White noise

As a writer, my one greatest weakness is that I suffer from the potential of giving people what Mao used to call "logorrhea." It's like loose bowel movement but with words instead of feces.

I am so jealous of people - songwriters, lyricists and poets, for instance - who can drive home their loaded point with the sparest of verses. Perhaps I'm more jealous of songwriters as I hardly read poetry anyway. It's amazing how the songs with the best and deepest emotional connections to our hearts are those that have the simplest lyrics paired with the most appropriate melody.

Other people have told me my talent is in explanation. Sometimes I get sick of it. As a speaker I am proud of it, but as a writer, there's no challenge in explaining things as best as I could in black and white. If I were a novel --- and I say this because there's no way I can be a song or poem ---I'd barely have turned any of my pages; if I were a magazine I'd barely have sold because I don't have a good angle.

Keane. Sugarfree. Vienna Teng. I envy them all, their profound lingual grasp of "less is more," their letting the music speak.

Arthur Golden. Bill Dare. Banana Yoshimoto. I envy them all, their grasp of "KISS" - keep it simple, stupid.

Maybe I have no mystique left to me because I'm all explained out. I'm all white noise, there but not there.

The perennially late reaction engine

No, that's not something from Macross. I'm talking about myself.

Lately I seem to have become a reactionary hair-trigger. It's not as if it's anything new. I guess I've struggled with this my whole life. This past week I've failed putting a throttle on my reactions, the end result being a huge mess that's gotten me in trouble with my leads.

They've expressed their disappointment with me. It's a shame I have such a tendency to snap at people because my skills are more than adequate, they told me. Why don't you realize your reactions have an effect on the people around you?

I can't go on like this. The world is becoming less and less forgiving of my actions. I feel like I'm always playing catch-up and learning the old lessons in a ball game everybody else has played and finished at least once. Not everyone understands that I'm basically a late bloomer. How long am I going to be a late bloomer? How long will I go through the motions of learning things I should have known years ago because everybody else does?

This just bums me out. The pathetic thing about this is I can't turn to anyone for help.

How much is enough?

Yes, I'm supposed to be studying for the upcoming CSTE certification exam on the 26th. But CSTE is one of those things where regardless of how hard you study, you will always be thinking that you haven't studied enough.

Makes me wonder whether I should have taken ISEB instead.

So near, yet still so far: after four months...

The weather's getting colder, the days are getting uncharacteristically busier, and the bonuses are coming in.

Frustratingly though, I'm still nowhere close to getting that Bride Digo seat even if I do have the money already. Other big-ticket expenses---most of which are maintenance-related---have popped up and demand greater priority. My A/C compressor has gone finicky, my L13A3 engine needs the dreaded x40,000-km tune-up, and my aging tires need replacement. Replacing the compressor alone is enough to put a substantial dent on the money I've religiously saved up the past few months.

Chalk it up to impatience perhaps, but it just highlights one thing: Given the amount of work I do, my paycheck is pitiful.

Career crossroads

My friend Angiela is leaving for Washington D.C. at the end of the month. We hadn't seen each other in a long, long while, so she asked me to dinner at Robinsons Galleria last Friday.

While we were talking I found myself getting jealous of her position. She'll be earning ten times her old salary at her previous firm over there, and she'll find it a lot easier compared to her overworked/underpaid days here. She's even getting a car once she gets there, too.

I felt happy for her. But compared to all that, I felt a little sorry for myself. I have nowhere near the toxicity of her workload, but I do have to admit I'm not paid enough for the kind of work I'm doing. My eyes turned green with envy for the better part of a weekend.

I work in an industry I don't exactly love. I work in a company that pays its employees peanuts compared to other companies...at least until I work my ass off and get at least 4 promotions, at which point the pay becomes merely "livable." I'm not getting any younger.

But I'm not willing to leave the Philippines, either.

I'm free of any extra-contractual obligations now. At this point I'm not quite sure what I should be doing. At least thanks to PJ, I know that I'm not really in as bad a position as I had thought. I guess the best thing I could do is do well in my current assignment, and tough it out.

Enough is enough

I've just about had it with women. I'm sick of putting them on a pedestal, listening to them, trying to be extra nice to them...I want them to give me back the time and effort I wasted. If friendships and relationships are investments I'm damn sure I'm overdue on my return.

I'm sick of thinking about women.

Like my Tita Vik says, perhaps then they'd start coming...no pun intended.

Mwahahahaha!

If anyone of them wants me that fucking badly, I'll be working on my car.

2007: Maybe it hasn't been so bad...

Trying to tread the thin line between being appreciative and thinking about this thing too much isn't always easy, but I'm surprised how well I've been doing.

I guess I've gained some serenity over a 2007 filled with moments of disappointment, heartbreak, stupidity and living life dangerously. I've managed to stare my vices and evils in the face, indulge in them to see how far I can go, and come to some semblance of sanity and temperance.

Next year, perhaps, should be my full return to innocence. As much as I still seek the state of being "stupidly happy," I've come to the age where living stupidly with any other emotions attached cannot be tolerated.

I do not need to please everyone; I please enough of the people that matter. I do not need companionship as much as I thought; I have learned and have yet to learn to enjoy being lonely, being by myself.

This year has practically been put to bed, its heartbeat ebbing away in its death throes. From its dregs comes a new year, a chance to bet my life again.

"Grant me the courage to change the things I can, serenity to accept the things I cannot, and wisdom to know the difference."

Amen.

Jaded

Once again, Cher, you prove that you are indeed my fwend, because you can see right through me even though we've never met in person.

That's right, my day-to-day life is no fun at all. Maybe that's why, try as I might, I've had difficulty with saving as I keep squandering my money on pointless things. I am lonely but I am tired of trying to fit in with colleagues whom I know will never laugh or marvel at the same things I do. My laugh seems loud and full but frequntly it's just an act I put on.

Despite being jaded, I'm still hoping for someone to come along and prove that I can live my life laughing. I'm still hoping that someone could make me see the joy in things I've dismissed as overhyped.

I'm still waiting, but I'm not sure for how long I'll be willing to.

Something I've noticed

I'm looking for excuses to get out of the office as early as I can. Why? I guess it's because there's something in my job I'm not enjoying.

Given that I was never very keen on an IT career, and that the people are the only reasons why I'm enjoying...hmmm. What do you think?

Perhaps I've had my fill of my peer-level colleagues. I have to admit it. I am never going to fit in with them, and frankly I've given up trying. They're forming ever closer bonds with each day, bonds which they purposely avoid to form with me. Sigh. Such is life.

If I am to keep enjoying my work, I have to meet other people. My world does not have to end within the four walls of my office. I just hope that I find more real friends in the community activities I've committed myself to.

Ennui: Quarter-life crisis part deux

I want something new.

I don't like my circumstances at present. I am tired. I get cranky. I get weird. One by one, the reasons why I'm enjoying work seem like they're deleting themselves. I still have about ten months to go if I really want to leave.

Perhaps I just need a break; it's been a while since I had one. I filed for a week of vacation leave in mid-August. As yet, I have no idea what I'll be doing with my time. I want to invite some friends, but at the same time I would rather go somewhere or do something by myself in that span of time.

Sadness is creeping over me. Why exactly, I don't know. It just is. It's got nothing to do with love. I'm just dissatisfied and disillusioned, perhaps, with what's happening to me. I feel I should be doing something else that isn't such a waste of my youth. This was probably what my dad saw almost fifteen years ago.

The long and short of it is, all I really want to do is laugh. I want to guffaw and have it ping off the walls until my gut hurts. I'm tired of laughing and having it stop abruptly. I'm tired of being a laugh track for other people's stand-up comedy acts.

I want to meet someone who can make me---and I should really trademark this phrase because I use it so often---"stupidly happy."

That's because I want to live laughing.

Frailty

Lately I've come down with a severe case of the mopes.

I feel I don't really belong anywhere. While that's nothing new, I'm alarmed that I'm still feeling this way at this point in my life, where I'm no longer an adolescent nor a student. No, this had to linger until I became your present-day salaryman, and I feel stupid melting with self-loathing in my cubicle while I see and hear people enjoying everyone else's company.

I guess I'm too much of a perfectionist. I have such high expectations that I easily get disappointed when things don't go as planned. It's funny how I don't like being with my family because I don't want to hear any nitpicking, but here I am dragging it along with me. Given that, it's probably no surprise why very few people actually like being with me.

Times like these, I feel how hard it is to be an adult. Bill Gates was correct, no one cares about your self-esteem...especially not your colleagues. I remember one of my old high school teachers telling me I was in such a hurry to grow up. Now I feel as if things are passing too quickly for me to catch up, as if everyone's in top gear on the unrestricted autobahn while I'm hesitantly driving with a learner permit. And I'm scared.

I want to talk to the few people I can truly call my friends, but it feels like I'm wasting their time. They've got better things to do than listen to me whine...or so I thought.
***

Cher and I had a chat after what seems like months. It's amazing how someone you've never met can make you feel so good about yourself, just because of the sheer belief and faith that you are a good person. She managed to do just that, and I am very grateful.

Everyone's scared, she told me, you're not the only one. There are simply too many uncertainties. I told her everything that was on my mind, all the loneliness, bitterness and the things I kept from everyone else for fear of further rejection, and it felt good to finally have someone to talk to.

One day within this year, I will visit her. Now that I'm working that shouldn't be such a problem. Thanks, fwend, for four wonderful years.

Maybes.

Maybes.

Maybe it'll hurt a lot less if I don't see you on a daily basis.

Maybe I can finally get over you if I no longer felt the compulsion to sneak a glance at you every day.

Maybe I can finally convince myself that behind the comely appearance you're really nothing special.

Maybe I should start being a jerk.

Maybe it's time for a distraction on the highest scale.

Maybe I should stop torturing myself.

Bummer. I'm an addict and I'm having withdrawal symptoms. I have to stop before this kills me.

Longing for the embrace to end all others.

Longing for the embrace to end all others.

I am sad once again.

I'm sick of talking and writing. Tonight, I simply wish that there's a girl out there who will accept me for what I am and hold me in her arms really tight and sing this song to my ear and mean every damn word of it.

This girl I know needs some shelter
She don't believe anyone can help her
She's doing so much harm, doing so much damage
But you don't want to get involved
You tell her she can manage
And you can't change the way she feels
But you could put your arms around her

I know you want to live yourself
But could you forgive yourself
If you left her just the way
You found her

I stand in front of you
I'll take the force of the blow
Protection

You're a boy and I'm a girl
But you know you can lean on me
And I don't have no fear
I'll take on any man here
Who says that's not the way it should be

I stand in front of you
I'll take the force of the blow
Protection

She's a girl and you're a boy
Sometimes you look so small, look so small
You've got a baby of your own
When your baby's gone, she'll be the one
To catch you when you fall

I stand in front of you
I'll take the force of the blow
Protection

I stand in front of you
I'll take the force of the blow
Protection

You're a girl and I'm a boy...

Sometimes you look so small, need some shelter
Just runnin' round and round, helter skelter
And I've leaned on me for years
Now you can lean on me
And that's more than love, that's the way it should be
Now I can't change the way you feel
But I can put my arms around you
That's just part of the deal
That's the way I feel
I'll put my arms around you

I stand in front of you
I'll take the force of the blow
Protection

You're a boy and I'm a girl...

- Massive Attack featuring Tracy Thorn, "Protection"

Seeking a definitive diagnosis.

Seeking a definitive diagnosis.

What the hell is wrong with me?

My face hurts. My eyes are red and puffy. My nose runs like a leaking tap. My head has a dull ache. All these point to sinusitis and not enough sleep.

But I'm sure there's something else not on that diagnosis.

My self-control is shot. I'm in a lousy mood. On the road I pick fights with trucks and buses. I am irritable and very cranky. I am amazed by how quickly I can push people away from me. All I can do is sit back and watch idly by as another me acts of its own accord and ransacks everything I built up. I try to find explanations but all I can do is study this other self.

Maybe I'm just in a selfish phase right now. Today, I'm not the listening JM people know. I'm not the one who's generous with time or things. I want things. I want someone to listen for once. I want someone to care. I couldn't care less what your beef is, what your standing is with your previous lovers, what newfangled credit card you have to sell me over the phone. I just don't give a damn. I feel miserable and I want to stew in it. I want to lock myself in my room and play Sugar Free on maximum volume, while singing my heart out and not caring if I wake up and piss off the neighbors.

When will the study end? When will there ever be any acceptable explanations? Is this some sort of condition? Can I even be "treated?"

I now know why Rubik's cubes never appealed to me. I'm already too big of a puzzle to solve by myself.

Unfortunately people don't have the time or patience to help me along.

Redemption from myself...came within myself

Redemption from myself...came within myself

The ability to forgive yourself is the most important of all.

This point I realized when I was tossing and turning in bed last night, the lights turned out, the fluorescent light of the neighbors' empty house penetrating my curtains. I was miserable. I was sick of the heavy burden of guilt and blame I had put on myself, when in Tita Vik's words I had committed no grave sins. I had simply made a few mistakes.

Contrary to what I was thinking, I never needed permission nor an excuse to do so. I am simply a human being. Sure, people will say I have a lot of growing-up to do...but who doesn't? In the tradition of Jean-Paul Sartre, the only people who can truly say they are mature and cannot grow any longer are all dead, the en-soi beings. I am certainly still alive, still a pour-soi entity.

In my misery, I cried and wailed in private, for the first time in a long time. Within the loneliness, I was able to find myself again and make peace. What they say is true: the only person we truly have our whole lives is ourselves, and we should be able to live with ourselves if we are to live at all.

Thank you, Tita Vik. Thank you, Celine. Your words rang so true and clear. Sometimes things can be a lot better if I just disconnected my overactive superego, stopped thinking, and enjoyed living.

Ne'er-do-well

Ne'er-do-well

My friend Ria has found herself a new job with a local petroleum company. Unfortunately on her first day she didn’t even get to step on the frying pan; she was thrown into the fire almost immediately. She told me she was really overwhelmed on the first day because of the lack of orientation.

I pray she does well in her new job, though. I’ve listened to her tales of hideous stress from her former job, the kind that cost her her health, and I figure nothing’s worth that much. If you don’t have your health, you have nothing.

These days I can never seem to do anything right. I can’t make people laugh, I can’t make them comfortable with me, I can’t make my patience last, and I can’t mend my broken friendships.

All I have left for certain is the red mist in my eyes. It’s the only thing that’s left me fulfilled lately—the confidence that I can now take the fight to the streets with the Jazz instead of being pushed around like a fool.

It’s a dangerous gift, I know, but for now it’s all I have.

I am sick of always feeling sullen and guilty. I have to grit my teeth today, and pray that it will be my turn to have a little sunshine tomorrow.

God, please bestow upon me the power of great music. I need it. People will come and go from my life, but music will always be there.

Alcoholic epiphany

Alcoholic epiphany

All along I was excited to go to Puerto Galera to get drunk with my friends. Now, however, I don't think it's such a good idea anymore.

Alcohol seems to magnify everything in me. It's strange how a couple of light beers can make me a happy camper, but can also amplify my moping to the point where I become unsociable. Now I even managed to hurt or alienate a few of my friends in the process...sadly they had to be those I treasure the most.

I am ashamed of myself. If this is the price I have to pay for getting smashed every once in a while, I'd rather stay sober and continue playing the part of designated driver.

It's that old familiar feeling again...

It's that old familiar feeling again...

Just when I needed a boost to my flagging morale, the friends I so wanted to talk and pour my heart out to are nowhere to be found.

I am lonely again, despite having people to talk to nearby. Once again, there is no one to help me through, no open hand to fish me out of this freezing hole I fell into.

Time and again I keep telling myself to cope with the loneliness. Yet I know deep down it's never a healthy thing harboring this sickening feeling.

Now that I have chosen to take a chance with you, I wonder if you will be able to take it away?

It started off so well
They said we made a perfect pair
I clothed myself in your glory and your love
How I loved you
How I cried...
The years of care and loyalty
Were nothing but a sham it seems
The years belie, we lived a lie
I love you till I die
Save me, save me, save me
I can't face this life alone
Save me, save me, save me...
I'm naked and I'm far from home

The slate will soon be clean
I'll erase the memories
To start again with somebody new
Was it all wasted,
All that love? ...
I hang my head and I advertise:
A soul for sale or rent
I have no heart, I'm cold inside
I have no real intent
Save me, save me, save me
I can't face this life alone
Save me, save me, save me...
I'm naked and I'm far from home

Each night I cry I still believe the lie
I love you till I die
Save me, save me, save me
Don't let me face my life alone
Save me, save me, ooh...
I'm naked and I'm far from home...

-Queen, "Save Me"