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| 2009-06-29 19:50 |
| Concretize Me |
| Public |
 crazy |
| John Mayer - Waiting for the World to Change |
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Any one who has had a respectable exposure to provincial AM radio stations, particularly those of the DYHP family of broadcasts, knows of the story of the barangay politician (as told by Teban and Goliat) who one day went into an election rally held to support his bid for re-election. Before long, he was standing on the podium mightily belting his idyllic and almost predictable election platforms, his most favorite being having all the roads in his beloved barangay concreted and beautified (presumably to reduce the level of dust as is the usual case in highwayside-barangays with dry, grainy soil). He went through this routine long enough that one teenage boy who was sitting on the first row innocently inquired "But all our roads are concrete now. What else is there for concreting?" to which the politician cleverly retorted "Then I will 'concretize' all of your noses." Of course this is a joke, but one can't help but notice where the inspiration lies. When eletion year rolls around, a good portion of our roads and highways get a make-over. Those that have long remained forgotten in the intervening years after and before elections are suddenly remembered; those that have already been attended to in years past gets the unnecessary and quite costly remodelling, and those that have long shouted for attention (but have been conveniently ignored) with all their vulgar and half-a-meter-deep potholes suddenly find themselves in the middle of so much construction activity. We may not want to admit it or not but it's true, we tend to realize election is just around the corner because we start seeing construction workers remodel every road, bridge, waiting shed, basketball court they can lay their hands on!! This is a direct reflection of our mental status as a political animal! We as voters tend to gravitate more towards projects that are easily visible - the next barangay basketball court, the new road, the waiting shed, the remodelled bridge - even the skyway extension which by the way is privately contracted and in no way is a government project, we involuntarily associate with the upcoming elections. The thing that sticks most in our minds are those that are easily seen. The politicians know this, and they are not shy from broadcasting their accomplishments. Every new building/infrastructure/edifice is owned, claimed, and marked with "thru the initiative of..." slogans. And who can blame them for adapting this culture of blatant vulgarity when we mindlessly reward them with our votes and our collective trust for the next 3 years. This mental model of development, however, is not totally wrong. Every third world country-turn-first world invested heavily on infrastructure as a means towards economic development. Take Japan in the 1970s. GMA is in that breed and has made it awefully clear that farm-to-market roads remain a priority of her administration, and the politicians of old methodically exploit this by passing bills, lobbying (more like cozzying) for funds, getting appropriations for projects that marginally fit the description but are in truth concrete trophies necessary to support the "I accomplished this during my term!" claim. Perhaps it's time to be more aware of this fallacious and outdated dynamic of false concrete trophies. At the most basic level, we should be measuring worth by it's effects: the road that lessens traffic and shortens the travel time from farm to market is more valuable than the alleyway that cost as much but didn't find a good use. Or perhaps we can be more weary of the politician who is quiet all term-round but is suddenly in the middle of construction projects here and there right before the election period... and is oftentimes not completed especially when it is dragged after the elections are done. Or more importantly, that we start paying attention to accomplishments that are not direcly visible, not necessarily high-profile, but are in every other way as significant and as profound: the reforms on healthcare and the lower cost of drugs, the creation of schools and scholarships, the cheaper prime commodities, the provision of low-interest loans to farmers and SMEs or the preservation of the environment and the restoration of mauled and over-logged forests, harsher penalties for corruption, and a more efficient tax-collection system which sees that taxes go right back to the people and not to deep-pocketed swindlers. Our ability to transition to a higher state of maturity, one that marginally honors the visual rhetoric of construction and puts more prime on the value of achieving more for the people while asking for lesser demands from the people will ultimately dictate how politicians view their performance and how this translates to precious votes and mandate. There is only that many roads to be concreted! I remain fearful that our inability to do so can only lead to concrete noses. Or perhaps, we should let them have our noses concreted now if that takes away their excuse for high-visibility/low-impact projects in the future! If we are going down that path, we might as well do it now and save ourselves the misery of the next few years of the same traffic-invested political grandstanding on our very streets. Sometimes the most inane of solutions shatter the most stupid of convensions.
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I thought of "dramatizing" this goodbye post with all the adjectives that I can pull out of Webster's latest release and chalking them up to paint what today amounts to The Big Blue being gutted, sold, auctioned, stripped to the almost bare minimum, and to the throngs of memorable people walking out the door never to see these halls again. I thought long and hard, and then thought some more. Where before their used to be a bustle, a melodic hum, the perfect marriage of control and chaos, there is now only silence; an eery mystery punctuated only by the sound of the airconditioning against bare walls and hollow halls. Where before every thing shines and sparkles, now there is only dimness and dark; empty cubicles, dead lights, abandoned potpourri, forgotten mementos, unwanted things! No more machines wailing, people talking, music playing, footsteps carrying people here and there.... None!! Empty! Bare! Silence! Undying, ever-deafening silence! But these condemned walls will not crush everything! Memories live on; friendships do not die. Laughter has and will always remain priceless! So there is no need for drama! The physical might crumble, the distance will divide! But the memories will linger, the thoughts remain, the feelings are ever present! Going! Gutted! Gone! But not goodbye; never goodbye! There is only "Until the next time we meet again!" Now, it's on to better horizons and brighter tomorrows.. *_*
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We've all seen this in one form or another: we are confronted with a problem and instead of dealing with the problem, we resort to an indirect approach that upon closer examination completely misses the point of that which we want to achieve. Oftentimes, the problems we encounter are those of the emotional variety, and our classic response is to do something physical to overcome the problem.
Consider, after a messy and painful break-up which leaves one hanging and still struggling while the other has already presumably moved on, the classic response to stemming the urge to text or call and ask how the other is doing is to delete their number from our phonebook/s. Don't get me wrong, if the intention is really to sever all forms of communication with the bastard, this response is highly appropriate. However, if the intention is to develop the psyche to resist the temptation to consciously flung ourselves into more pain, this response is just plain wrong. We have been conditioned to design a physical outlet for all our troubles, regardless if the issue is really emotional and/or mental and not physical that we forget most of the battles we wage everyday is of the psychological variety and can only be assuaged by appropriate psychological responses. To name a few - the lady in the department store fitting the latest Bayo or Maldita release and says "I'm going to buy this even if at the moment I know I look like a tin-foil wrapped banana just because this will motivate me to lose weight and be sexy again" (C'mon, we've all heard or said that before, haven't we?!?); the young new graduate who confesses to being a shopaholic and decides to kick-start her saving habits by only making purchases when there is a sale instead of just changing her lifestyle; the student-procrastinator who decides he'll just waste away the remainder of the sem in booze and parties and will start his reformation the sem thereafter; or the employee who tolerates verbal abuse every single day and quixotically claims it'll prepare him for whatever his career throws at him in the future. In each of these cases, a psychological response would have been the more appropriate solution but because we believe everything has to start with something physical - because we are beings more of sense and less of mental fortitude - we let things pass and we endure unnecessarily or justify the mistake or worse device responses that not only miss the mark, they only serve to prolong the problem and delude us with temporary feelings of victory and satisfaction. I realized this while I was mired in my own version of formulating the wrong solution. Simply put, I want to lose weight for health reasons (everybody does, right?!?) and the most sound solution isn't exercise and a lifestyle change but to altogether stop eating meals. Ha! I know, when you say it that way, it just doesn't sound that good anymore compared to when you were still mulling it over in your head. Science claims we haven't even used 25% of our brain power, that we have been living content with the obvious and the apparent because it's the easiest way. But time and again, experience has taught us, although we all choose to ignore it, that most of our battles are in the mind. Most deal with the conscious and uberly hard decisions that we just can't seem to make even if we know we have to. Our darkest hours have pushed us to turning points when good decisions would have turned our lives around and instead we resort to band-aid solutions and table-top responses. We bury ourselves deeper in the quagmire of our own problems, and in the long-run it gets deep enough that no amount of therapy can overhaul us. I do not mean to preach, I only mean to share. Because accept it, we will never be devoid of problems and issues and conflicts and trouble. They are here to stay. We might as well start dealing with them the right way. And oftentimes, it all starts with the conscious decision for a lifestyle change.
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Crossroads
(author anonymous) Shall I follow the stream, or cross the sea?
Strive for a dream or let life be?
Shall it be on neon lights that spell success?
Or a flickering lamplight for happiness? Follow the thunder? Follow the storm?
Follow the whisper that breeze and leaves form?
Follow my heartbeat, follow my head?
What shall each bring me? Where shall each lead?
I distinctly remembered this poem, from way back in highschool, today both for its dazzling simplicity and the overwhelming aptness with which this poem describes the state that I currently am in. I'm presented with options, none of which carries the ideal pay-proximity-positioning potential trifecta all in one package, and yes I just made up the 3Ps of career decision-making in a heartbeat. The truth is, there are just too many unknowns from where I currently stand; while I do not doubt that I will find work soon after I part ways with Intel, I do not know what kind of work that will be and whether I'd be happy in that work or will come to regret that which I end up choosing. In this economy, nothing's for certain, and ridiculous as it may sound, every opportunity that presents itself truly is a bargain.
I stand at the crossroads and before me is laid the widest expanse of potential and unknown. Shall I cross the sea and find my place elsewhere, or stay here and be happy where I know I am home? Is it still career, career, career? Or is it time to start arranging the pieces of what would be a life-long commitment? I don't even know if neon lights are out there, but I'm pretty sure any light is better than a flickering lamplight... but do I really want the bright lights now, or is this dimly lit paradise all that I need to grow and move on? Should I stand pat and let life be, or dare to take the reigns and drive down unchartered roads to find my gold mine? Should I listen to my heart, or should I follow my head? I know, I'm just re-hashing! In the grand scheme of things, something's gotta give! You can't have everything, not unless you reset your bearings and value the intangible over the obvious, live contently in the middle of life's unfailing and simple joys rather than lose sleep chasing dreams down avenues and boulevards that take you to cities you don't know where you find no family and get lost in all the madness and mayhem! I don't have my answers.... at least not yet! But two things I overwhelmingly hold on to: hope and faith, and the promise that whatever choice I come into, it won't be arrived at through the most pedestrian of efforts, and neither will it be regretted nor scoffed at, nor considered the lesser of available evils! At some point, I'll make this decision; and in the awkward and ironic abundance of viable opportunities, I absolutely relish the head scratch!
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If there's an award for the most subjective human endeavor, that award would probably go to the business of human relationships. There is just no objective metric for gauging how a prospective relationship will turn out, no clear-cut formula to ensure success, there isn't even a standard definition for success when it comes to relationships - some people think just being together for years on end already constitutes success, others scoff at the notion of success without happiness sprinkled somewhere in the equation; and worse yet, every single relationship is unique in its own right (different personalities, circumstances, expectations, social and personal pressures, religious idiosyncrasies, pet peeves and interests) that observations gathered from previous relationships are not exactly transferable to the current one in consideration. (I know I'm speaking like Sheldon Cooper, so sincere apologies are in order here.) A big reason why relationships are as subjective as they are is because people enter into relationships with widely varying expectations and end-goals: some just want to try it out and see how it works like test driving a car before fully making the purchase, some are tired with the single life and all the "snide" remarks that abound come Valentines Day that they jump at the first opportunity that presents itself, others think relationships pave the way for self-discovery as if it's a journey and along the way you learn more about who you really are, and still others just wanna have fun (or whatever wonderful euphemism you can come up with that alludes to that effect), others misunderstand "like" for "love", a few think that having the same interests on a few things implies compatibility, others go for the looks and disregard everything else, most argue that it's what's inside that's important but ironically they go into relationships without giving themselves sufficient time to know the person. Whatever you're dig is, there is a very high probability that you aren't one of those who have their own serendipity stories to share. Like the rest of us, you're most likely struggling with your relationships; the fights, the disagreement, the trust issues, the pet peeves, the things you want changed and the things you wish will forever remain constant (like men remembering important dates, and women appreciating sports and all the action, not just the things you see on the scoreboard, etc.). The sad thing is, most of the things that you dream will change or wish will remain constant forever are entirely out of your control. Going into a relationship means you are willingly subjecting yourself to the prospect of pain, allowing yourself to fall into the mercy of the other, opening yourself to things that you don't expect will come around to haunt you. In a phrase, it's all one giant gamble and you struggle to make sense out of everything. There is one assumption almost everyone wrongly takes into regarding love and relationships... it's that your partner, your spouse, your love, your bf/gf will complete you as a person! Every clinical psychologist, relationship counselor, shrink, Dr. Phil, will tell you that you are SPOT ON WRONG! (Sorry Jerry Maguire!!) The thing is, a relationship really is and should be about two complete people sharing their meaningful lives together; it's not about two people looking for answers to their own personal questions and hoping the other person has it, it's not about broken and battered folks expecting they will be loved by some stranger more than they can ever love themselves. You can't just give your broken and battered self to somebody and expect them to make something out of it, love you unconditionally, and not rant about the things they wish you have or have not! It's not about just wanting to get married and crossing your fingers and just praying that you made the right choice in a spouse. It's not a business venture, not just some arrangement, not some adhoc status that you prefer to be in, not some organization that you chose to be a part of for purposes of affiliation. Sooner or later, there will be fiasco and you both will not like it! The most ideal relationships are those that are borne out of mutual respect, admiration, and then love! There is no damsel in distress', no messiah complexes, no you-complete-me/s. There is only complementing, not completing! ..Which is why it is so damn hard to get it right! ..And which is why we all, or at least a good portion of us, oftentimes get it wrong - and end up crying, sobbing, sulking over it! There is only one question to gauge readiness: do you feel you are equipped enough - mentally, socially, all the -lly circles you can ever conceive of - to share something meaningful to some "likely random" strange other person, and does that person feel the same way about himself/herself and about you? if you're/they're not, then back off! That's the thing with relationships, you need to have THE thing for it before it develops a thing for you.
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Originally posted for FaceBook.
Rules: Once you've been tagged, you are supposed to write a note with 25 random things, facts, habits, or goals about you. At the end, choose 25 people to be tagged. You have to tag the person who tagged you. If I tagged you, it's because I want to know more about you. (To do this, go to “notes” under tabs on your profile page, paste these instructions in the body of the note, type your 25 random things, tag 25 people (in the right hand corner of the app) then click publish.) So, here goes... 1) I'll be out of my current job soon (I think I needed to get that out of the way fast and quick! *_*)... The global economic recession has been so far reaching that even those who previously thought they are safe are now the ones planning for the future, revising resumes, re-kindling old networks, and working on gaining as many new skills as possible - me included, not that I mind anyway! The good thing with all this hoopla though is that finally and quite ironically, fate has made the decision for me, and that's so much of a relief since I've been stuck in this limbo of what-to-do and when-to-do-it for the last year and a half.. At least now, I wouldn't have to deliberate; right before me is laid a fantastic opportunity to reinvent myself and, for the most part, finally decide what career path do I plan to take with me down the road... And in many ways, I'm already giddy, and to some level impatient, for it to happen... which is why I was depressed earlier this week for not getting "the envelope".. Oh well! 2) Nobody would have considered, or at least not in a hundred years, but in the absence of anything concrete to do (because of the impending work dissolution) during formerly holy hours, here is the most updated list of fantabulous TV series' that I (and a few others) diligently bank on to burn my/our 7AM-4PM office time: The Big Bang Theory (Season#2, waiting for Ep 15), Fringe (Season#1, and wishing Ep 13 is already available), Chuck (Season#2, Ep 12), House, M.D. (Season#5, waiting for Ep 15), and Numb3rs (Season#4). Determining the way to burn time has recently evolved into a full blown science in the office.. Trust me, it's a fiasco worthy of the most ardent praise. You can't even imagine how a formerly fiendish bunch of workaholics has turned into the most active FaceBook community/TV series afficionados in this part of the world. 3) I was dead stupid back in high school when it comes to Math! All the college engineering work and the board exam results goes to prove that Math can be learned, and that it isn't intrinsic at birth. *_* 4) My sports affiliations, in no particular order, are: badminton, chess, basketball, swimming (Michael Phelps wants it to be called a sport *_*), and a lot of jogging. I go to the gym, but deep inside I still believe nothing beats a good natural calorie-burn. 5) I dance folk dances back in elementary. When I look at the pictures now, I find them hilarious, but also nostalgic.. Hehehe! 6) I joined my highschool chorale through a favor; they never really allowed me to join the tryouts because they know I would just flunk it. 3 years later, I never thought I'd have a good singing voice enough to deceive people that I sing well.. Singing, I guess, never really ran in the genes.. but then
again, a lot of what's in me doesn't seem to be genetic, hahahaha! Should I say "Math"?!? 7) I learned to play the guitars because of a highschool crush! I fiendishly studied back then so I can impress her; now, I find it a truly admirable skill to be able to play a musical instrument, and I'm grateful I spent time learning it.. *_* I can read notes too, by the way.. ^_^ 8) I plan on running in the Milo Marathon 2 years from now.. That's contingent on two things, the obvious one being if I can get into shape sufficient enough to run in a marathon, and second that I solve this bum right shin that I seem to be feeling when I jog.. 9) I love books! You can put me in a room with food, water and a stack of good books of the widest variety and I'd gladly stay in for a week without complaining. 10) I'm not a morning person. I hate early morning activities. I'd rather wake up late, and work until late at night.. In the same way, I love sunsets more than sunrises, although it should be noted that sunrises are still way too beautiful that on random days, I don't mind the early morning jog just so that I can see the sun rise. 11) Music, writing, swimming (and jogging) are the four most therapeutic things that I can think of. Any other activity is normally secondary. *_* 12) I'm in love with coffee, and in particular, Starbucks. 13) I'm a fierce advocate of environmental conservation; funny when you recall that I'm a chemical engineer. I have ironed that out though, I think... *_* 14) I'll miss my job (#1) when I leave, but I can say with definite certainty that I'll miss my workmates more than I'll miss my job. Pay and work, that you can replace.. But you can never truly replace friends. They stick like gum, they remain, their impressions leave long-lasting memories. 15) I'm a Christian. My faith defines me! 16) I have three beautiful and intelligent sisters; I'm the only guy in the family after my mom and my father broke up about a year and a half ago. *_* 17) I love that I studied in MSU! If given the chance to choose again, I'd still probably want to study there. 18) I was into parliamentary debating back in college. I wouldn't mind being out of campus for weeks on end just to participate in debates. On the one hand, I kinda regretted not doing everything to get good grades (some of those major subjects, I just got serious in the finals), but on the other hand, at least I had a fairly decent outlet from all the nerdness inherent in engineering, and the skills are very much useful in real life.. *_* 19) I'm a creature of habit.. *_* I don't really want to expound on that, unless somebody asks.. and then again, I might only end up explaining to that person, hehehe! 20) I've been living pretty independently since first year college. That's about 10 years of emancipation already. *_* 21) I'm one of those who think shopping is therapeutic in a sense! Again, I don't want to expound on that subject, hehehe! 22) I love going to the movies; but I still firmly believe no movie is going to do justice to any book... 23) I love to travel! 24) I'm fine sitting in a park and just watch people do thier stuff.. The anonymity is welcome relief. 25) When not out of town, I'm probably online 98% of the time. I already wrote something like this before. It's here: http://rycke.livejournal.com/11922.html. Also, I really didn't end up tagging anyone. Just feel free to do yours; I know everyone wants it anyway so there was no sense tagging just a handful.. *_*
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The thing with losing your job is... well, its not a pleasant experience to say the least. No matter how prepared you think you are, there's always that part of you that screams foul over all the uncertainties; all the impending goodbyes to friends you know you'll soon leave behind as you move on to hopefully greener pastures; the prospect of relocating, settling down, getting used to living in a new and oftentimes foreign place - new faces, new routines, the same commute, the same perpetuality that drives all of human existence; the hassles of learning the vagaries of the new workplace - and that's assuming you are lucky enough to find one in this wretched economy; there's a whole laundry list of pains that you have to go through and none offers any consolation enough to offset the pains of moving on. The coping is beyond any adjective you want to wisely pull from a list of wonderful words! "There, there!" just doesn't cut if anymore! While every newspaper, every media outlet, every television station strives to make the report as humanly appealing as possible, all that they manage to achieve is to ramble endlessly over a new statistic. The pain remains, the fear never ends! The truth remains as lucid, the future as vague, the inordinate number of the newly jobless a cogent reminder of the restlessness of business and the volatility of life; at the end of the day, the report boils down to being a simple mention of the statistic, it remains fruitless in its effort to empathize, forever an inhuman tribute to the truly emotional process of being cut-off, regardless of how featurized it is intended to be. I say this so that everybody will remember that being saddened over the loss of a job is not something you go over, it's something you have to power through. You don't vault over losses, you live through them and in them until you find yourself on the other side, better and stronger. The denial of pain only prolongs the inevitable; tears have to be shed, goodbyes will have to be uttered; the prospect of starting anew without the company of people closest to you has to be said, lamented over, accepted, and carried on as you move towards the future. There's just no way around it. No amount of assistance minimizes the damage, no corporate talk will reduce the impact - it is only in powering through that we speed up the healing process! Because this, being jobless, isn't just another statistic! It is a process, a journey, and a painful one at that! It is a black parade into the unknown, a mourning of losses and a hopeful (but never blind) expectation of the gains. Only in that heartset is the truth tempered, digested, accepted, and renewed and learned from. So cry! Wash all the pain away. Vent, shout, hug your pillows dry! Keep the memories and tuck them safely in your basket of goodness! Because tomorrow, life goes on! And life is, and will always never be, just another statistic!
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I got into reflection mode late last night after hearing, for the umpteenth time, the story of another teenager-acquaintance potentially losing out on the benefits of college education because of unplanned pregnancy. True, not all who venture down teen-mommy boulevard end up not finishing college, but I'm guessing nobody would be willing to bet against the fact that once you have a 6-lb bundle of (crying, burping, peeing, smiling) joy, the last thing on your mind is getting your diploma. This becomes especially and painfully true when the demographic in question consists of the many of us who, through the misfortune afforded by the lineage lottery, were born into poor families. After maybe an hour of endlessly tossing and turning in my bed, I came to one stirring and largely uncomplicated conclusion - there is wisdom in age. If you closely examine the reasons and precursors for teenage pregnancy, you'll mostly end up exploring the intricacies of parental guidance, and in cases where teenagers beget sons and daughters that would have otherwise qualified as their siblings 15 years down the road, you find a good percentage of the population blaming it all on the absence of a strong guiding hand. The drama of teenager-parent disagreement, oftentimes attributed to generational gap, is actually a struggle between wisdom learned from years of experience, and the simple proclivity for the unknown and the adventurous that is almost inherent in the adolescent. It’s just another dimension to the ageless war between sociology-philosophy and biology. Before, we think our parents were simply being harsh and strict (this is not to say every parent is rational, yes there are those who simply live within the confines of self-imposed and baseless paranoia and would rather kill their kids than expose them to the value-divested, culturally corrupted, morally decadent social circles that we have come to call "Generation Y") and because we want to get out and learn the lessons for ourselves, we rebel! We resist control, we dare question their motives; we subject them to the dilemma that goes "If you trust me, you'll allow me my extended social leash. Trust me Mom, nothing’s going to happen. I won’t get pregnant (or get some girl pregnant)" or some subtle variation along those same lines. Here is why parenting can be likened to walking on eggshells! You have the thinnest of red lines, between allowing your kids the freedom to explore their new-found (biological) sexual and social interests, but at the same time making sure that they don't go too far as to cause irreparable damage to their future. The simple predicate? Parents understand that it is not a matter of trust as it is a matter of the young and inexperienced possessing the constitution, the moral foundation, and the normal deductive and rational logic to resist the temptation to explore (and be explored), to test the waters rather recklessly without taking swimming lessons prior, and to subject oneself to social dangers without the promise of personal protection along the way - double entendre intended. Some intuitively get it… Most, unfortunately, don’t! In the presence of a strong guiding hand, a sound upbringing rooted on the fact that delaying a few social perks early on will go a long way into building one's stock for a better future, teenagers are given a better chance at life. I know a lot of friends who gained respectable jobs because they did okay in college, something that would be alien to those who spent their late teens and onwards raising babies and caring for immature, childishly-fixated, "barkadista" husbands. There are, obviously, exceptions but the prevailing statistics strongly support that those who did well in college went on to have better lives than those who did not; and for that we have Tatay and Nanay to thank for. Which gives us more reason to heed Mom, just a little bit more, this time around. I guess the phrase "Mommy knows best!" is more than just another cliché! And then, the next obvious dimension to this age-old circle of life: what kind of parent will you become?
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I think it'd be an injustice if we let the day die down without a post, and in particular a Pacquiao post. As we slowly bear witness to the close of what is surely not your ordinary Saturday, we are counting down the remaining 14 hours before Manny PACMAN Pacquiao steps into the ring in what is, thus far, the biggest fight of his boxing life. The nation, this nation of 90 million strong, is holding its collective breath; the international sports media is filled to the brim with anticipation and excitement; we are heading into a grand spectacle, a sports hysteria rivalled only by the Superbowl or the Soccer World Cup; and with us is the world looking on as Dela Hoya and Pacquiao gets ready for one of the most controversial, lucrative - recession or no recession, certainly imaginative, and definitely intriguing match-up in boxing history. While the gambling odds indicate they are rather evenly matched with DLH sporting just a slight edge over PacMan, the opinion as to who wins and how can never be more varied and polarized. The reason why I'm burning extra time talking about this is largely self-explanatory; we root for Filipinos, even the ones that go on to have ripped bathing suits after preliminary heats in an actual Olympic swimming event. We hold it dear in our hearts that the Filipino name is being hailed a winner, we fancy hearing our National Anthem played in international sports arenas, we dream about our national flag being lifted inches higher than that of the 2nd and 3rd place finishers, we adore the prospect of gold medals and wondrous glittering, stunning trophies. And not coincidentally, rooting for Pacquaio sits as the ultimate example of such devotion to winning and being recognized. Manny has been our poster boy for excellence; Former Manila Mayor Lito Atienza dubs him the Philippine's greatest natural resource, and he said that on HBO's 24/7 DLH-Pacquaio documentary series nonetheless. Why Pacquaio has received such adulation needs no further explanation; he is the frog prince fairy tale turned reality. And in spite of his "greatness", he has remained steadfast to the virtues of humility, family, and love of country. He is the walking "ang hindi marunong lumingon sa pinanggalingan ay hindi makakarating sa paroroonan", there is no pretense in his use of the English language rather he conveys the sense that while he isn't essentially fluent he won't resort to the unnecessary use of interpreters to deliver his ever quaint retorts. His regal stature notwithstanding, he is never beyond reach by his fellowmen; his faith is an open book, his mistakes and follies and his willingness to admit them and ask for forgiveness where it is due is certainly well-known and documented. Simply put, he is a man no different than the rest of us, and yet ironically he is different in ways most of us will never understand. His ascent to fame and fortune, for example, is the hallmark of the FIlipino struggle out of poverty and to this day, a lot of us are still stuck on the proverbial "Square 1". Such foibles have made for interesting cinema - and it so deeply explains why we shut down an entire country when he fights. Ubiquitously riding on every punch is the collective aspirations of an entire nation. We are never more united in a single cause than when he puts his life on the line; we are never more quiet than when we listen to his every passionate growl in the ring, we are never more watchful than when he puts his game face on; we are never more jubilant than when he is victorious; we are never more believing and prayerful than when he goes up to face another Mexican legend. In the most telling of examples, we are never more traffic or crime-free than when he goes all out in another mega-match. Oddly enough, tomorrow will the first time I am going to watch him fight LIVE! Where before I was content on watching him slug it out 4 hours delayed, or just hearing it from all the folks, or reading it from the internet a full day after, tomorrow is something I am not prepared to miss even for just a minute. Why? No, it's not because it has taken me all this time to jump into his bandwagon realizing that he is for real! Rather, it is because we are standing on the precipice of what is going to be the greatest turning-point in our collective boxing-ogling lives. When, not if, Pacquaio wins this bout, he will have shoot to the stratosphere of boxing, and together with him is a basket full of "us." With this fight, he is slowly but surely becoming our own version of Barack Obama, the prodigious child smashing boundaries and bringing change; you certainly wouldn't want to miss that moment when he breaks through and redeem us from all the years of sporting clunkers that we have impassionately managed to turn in so far. We are seeing history unfolding, and I'd gladly pay Php500 to see it LIVE! And simpler still, you wouldn't really want to run out of digs to dish on what is sure to be a busy water cooler and an even busier lunch table. So, I call a Pacquiao TKO in the 11th. Tomorrow, I'm simply going out to see how he does it!
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Today was supposed to be a hectic day and true to workaholic and obsessive-compulsive tradition, I had all my horses lined up and scheduled down to the minute so I can manage to finish everything in time. I sorely lack sleep, a sorry by-product of PSP parties playing NFS-Carbon and hours infront of the TV catching the replay of Fernando Alonso's 2nd F1 victory for the season; I badly need to catch a wind and enjoy a "break" - and it most definitely isn't the sorts that everybody typically wants to find themselves in.
The truth is that I'm finding the world to be moving too slowly for comfort. It seems to me like I'm on hyperdrive and the rest is of the world is on cruise control. That would have been fine except for the fact that I'm counting on the world to do stuff so I can do mine in turn. I'm waiting for data, looking up people on the office communicator to see if they are available so I can buzz them to their total discomfort just so that they finish their legs of the task and I can start on mine.. If the heavens doled out slow-motion serum so everybody can relax a little bit on a supposedly frantic-frenetic Monday, then I must have missed it all while I was in the production line busy arranging my things-to-do for the day. This coming at the most inopportune of times, that moment when the workaholic in you realizes that there is no purpose in frivolity, and no sense in procrastination, I'm totally catching bad luck on my wind-beaten sails. Today was supposed to be the day I catch up with all the workload! I was supposed to get into pole position today, enjoy the benefits of hard-earned labor by finally being on top of everything... and in a flash, I see those dreams of being ahead dashed into the doldrums of "there'll always be a tomorrow" and the tragedy of putting it out for the next day. At this pace, I could very well spill-over into the night; something I wasn't looking forward to doing given the drowsiness and what else it is that comes along with sleep-deprivation. I was gunning for a 7PM respite, at this rate I'm lucky if I get rest by 10. I can go on a drivel and mince the bad luck that has given me this unfortunate plight of having to wait when I'm in total 7th gear (but just can't dig in and get going because the world wouldn't want to be left behind) - all this misery exclusive to the too-motivated, alien to the rest who love nothing but hours of office downtime - but that would just underscore my helplessness! I'm at the mercy of the corporate elements, totally powerless to resist, utterly inconsolable at the very least. My saga is such that I can dare go fast, but I keep getting bogged down by sweaky wheels and loose bolts. ..And so the analogy that goes "a chain is only as strong as it's weakest link." I need a break! Throw me a lifeline! I need the world to spin faster; please don't let it slow down!
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| 2008-10-03 19:06 |
| Wanted: Anonymity |
| Public |
 contemplative |
| John Legend - Don't You Worry 'Bout A Thing |
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"Men go abroad to wonder at the heights of mountains, at the huge waves of the sea, at the long courses of the rivers, at the vast compass of the ocean, at the circular motions of the stars, but they pass by themselves, and they don't even notice." - Saint Augustine
There is never a dull moment when it comes to people! On the one hand, the business of dealing with a myriad of personalities whether at work or afterwards, whether you are putting your best foot forward during a date, or unshamelessly stinking it out in the company of "the guys", whether you're with old friends or new friends, with fellow coffee fiends or with those who shun the smell of caffeine thinking it's unhealthy and uselessly addictive - that business demands so much effort and gives so much social exposure and experience in return that you never really run out of things to smile about or be frustrated about. The ultimate Friendster or Facebook experience lies in the streets, in coffee shops,in and around cubicles, in the cafeteria, and it's one that almost always beats the hell out of facing your computer and wasting away to digi-heaven.
The reason why I mentioned these things is because over the years I've developed a liking to the security blanket provided by anonymity, that complete opposite of the things that fuel paparazzi feeding frenzies, and have since then enjoyed what it has brought to my table. It's like being in a library, and you have the fat picking of any book that strikes your interest. This feeling I best experience by losing myself in a crowd, becoming just another nobody in a sea of faces, feasting on the benefits of being inconspicuous, shunning the limelight, trading specialness for that momentary sense of blandness that allows you to blend it, and getting lost amidst all the humanity, the joys and and pains that all come along with it. When I get there, I breathe better, I feel lighter. You get treated to the cinema of life; you see people's faces, you hear people's stories, you see people together with other people, a giant convoluted, complex social experiment, a jumble of episodes and chapters and prequels and sequels, some fancy, others rivetting; and it all flows through the thread of life, unhindered by nothing, unscripted by no one. While everybody likes to be alone to enjoy a little peace, a little downtime and that much-needed break from all the hassles and pressures of daily living, the other dimension of this page lies in the story of others, the very morsels of information that color street conversations, bar room jokes, coffee shop businesses, and feeds the hunger for retail therapy to the few who can afford the loss of a few pesos in exchange for the relief of holding (and smelling) something new. In lies in the faces, the smiles and frowns; it lies in the droopy curves or the elegant confidence of shoulders, in the way hands touch and people hug, in the way they walk and talk, the sparkling eyes or the contempt made plain by raised eyebrows or frowning lips; there is so much language and most of them do not use the luxury of words. In this is why I, personally, love to balance my downtimes with that shrinking feeling when you become just one amidst the many, when you get swallowed by the throng, swept by the peaceful mob of fellow onlookers and real life actors and actresses living the story of their lives; those moments when all the pressure to look good evaporates amidst the normalcy. There is nothing to worry about but the firmness of the next step, the pureness of the next breath, the validity of one's being gets realized by the rubbing of elbows, the squeezing through crowds, the heat and the sweat that comes with it! And the truth is, regardless of the circumstance, this is just another way to spend your downtime! It's walking, at it's most unpretentious. You can even stuff earphones in your ear, jog your way to health, and still appreciate the human drama unfolding before your eyes. It really is, just another downtime! It cures you of the thirst to be special, of that strong urge to shine and be recognized, it reminds you that we belong and that we need to co-exist so we can live our lives the way we should. When the next downtime comes around, try it! Like a box of chocolates, you never know what you're gonna get!
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to be able to hold you is in itself a lovely gift of time,
to be assured that you exist,
that you breathe, that you live!
to watch you sleep, your face in my arms;
to watch you drift away for a time, to your dreams,
and then to wait, all the while charmed by your love,
for that one clear day,
to be finally free... to profess you are mine!
- from his little girl-
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I got this from a Reader's Digest link; the thought is something that I've been advocating for so long, and at one point really became a passion and a daily exercise, but that in all the ups and downs of daily living, I got lost somewhere and didn't manage to find my way back as evidenced by the eons that have come and went before I manage to visit this page again - and to think, I'm not even posting an original write-up. These doldrums, these silence..
..Here's something that I hope will spur me on to writing again. *_*
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10 Reasons You Should Write Something Each Day
The written word is a part of every day life. At its most basic, writing is a way of communicating. This is the one inalienable characteristic of writing itself, whether you’re communicating with a colleague or friend or you’re actually communicating with yourself - through a shopping list, for instance.
Aside from the fact that writing is an inescapable part of every day life, there are many good reasons you should make a good session of writing part of your daily routine, even if it’s just a few hundred words. You don’t have to be a pro to reap the benefits of creating the written word. 1. Remove stress from mind, place it on paper
Writing can be therapeutic. It can be a way to vent all the pent-up frustrations burdening your mind into a far less volatile form, paper (or screen). You can address your anger, fear, worry and stress without bludgeoning the person who embodies those emotions for you with a paperweight. Writing can serve as a form of cathartic stress relief where you finally get to say what you can’t say out loud, in real life. Just don’t let your vented feelings get into the wrong hands, or you may end up paying some pretty hefty blackmail cash. 2. Sweep Your Mind
A daily writing habit gives you regular time to sweep your mind for forgotten tasks and ideas that have been fermenting in the back of your head without your knowledge. It allows you to take the unordered thoughts floating around your head like lost puppies in zero gravity, and turn them into ordered plans and actions. This is the fundamental principle that the mindsweep and weekly review are based on: getting everything you can think of out of your head, and into a written format. This simple process can save your life when things are getting overwhelming and complicated. 3. Keep Your Writing Skills Sharp
Write every day to keep your skill with the written word sharp. Like any skill, the ability to communicate clearly, concisely and aesthetically degrades without practice. As a result, many people who don’t write regularly can freeze up, lost for words, on something so simple as an email to a friend. Writing every day, even in a stream-of-consciousness, unedited format will maintain and gradually improve your writing skills, and since dealing with the written word is a fundamental part of daily modern life, there’s nothing bad about that. 4. Make Some Pocket Money
If you’re not a professional writer, pocket money is probably all you’ll ever want to earn from your words. But if you’ve got a knack for it and just had a great dinner at a new restaurant and written about it for your daily pages, then isn’t it better to have a shot at getting that review published instead of letting the piece do absolutely nothing? These days, it’s easy to submit to many publications without spending considerable time and money doing so. While you’re unlikely to get too many bites without a good track record as a writer, it’s certainly easy enough to be worth the effort, and your wallet will be pleased. 5. Turn the Noise Off
Get away from the constant low-quality input and output systems of day-to-day life, such as meaningless small-talk and weather conversations, text messaging, Twitter, checking the mailbox, and most email and many websites. You receive and create barrages of useless distractions that don’t help you or the people you know; sitting down to write lets you get away from it all. It’s important to keep the noise to a minimum so you can focus on creating and receiving strong material, things that are really worth reading and writing. 6. Enhance Your Communication Skills
Use daily writing to enhance your communication skills. In this culture, communication is so often hampered because we don’t know how to express ourselves, whether it be verbal or written. Writing regularly can hone the skill of self-expression, something that is useful in written communications such as email, and that can translate into improved verbal communication. If you have trouble communicating what you want or asking tough questions, regular writing will give you a mind for structuring words quickly to achieve the desired affect in a diplomatic way. 7. Know What You Want
Part of the reason so many people do not get what they want in life is because they do not know what they want from it. Certainly not the main reason that people don’t get what they want, but in so many cases it is the obstacle. How can you get what you want or achieve your dreams if you’re not 100% clear on what they are? Writing each day gives you time to think carefully and reflect on what you want to achieve the most, and develop a clearer, achievable image and plan for that result. 8. Develop Your Analytical Skills
Writing regularly develops your analytical and rational skills. Working through your problems with a piece of paper encourages you to think things through clearly, in both linear (sequential) and non-linear (creative) ways. The best solutions come from a mix of both logical and creative thinking. Many people tend to panic and react emotionally to their problems, but if you’re used to solving them by processing each component of the problem in writing, you’ll develop a better approach and skillset. You’ll at least pause to think through the situation before hitting the panic button next time something comes up! 9. Get Away from Technology
In #5 we talked about turning the noise off for a while, which comes from all sorts of sources - not just tech-related sources. But another problem of ours is our dependence on technology, and it seems that everything that can be done on a computer, is done on a computer. If you opt to use a pen and paper instead of a computer, you give yourself valuable time away from technology to gather your thoughts without constant, meaningless interruptions and distractions. But more importantly, you give yourself time with the tactile and real. 10. Meet Yourself All Over Again
In a fast-paced society it’s easy to forget things like what you believe in and what you’re doing this (whatever this may be) for. Letting words flow out of your brain unedited can introduce you to a part of yourself you’d been censoring from yourself to cope with everyday life. Why did you start down the path you’re currently on? This is an important question whether you consider your current path to have begun on the weekend, or a decade ago. Discontentment, disillusionment, and unhappiness often come from forgetting why we’re doing something (or, on a different track, not having a good reason for living a certain way) and it is important to keep those simple reasons at the forefront of your mind or you run the risk of letting your life become a series of boring, menial actions. It’s not only important to remind yourself of your motives for your current actions; it’s important to monitor your actions to see if they align with your life goals so that you can change them. Sometimes, the only way to keep such a close monitor on your actions and goals is to write about them every day ====================================
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Innocence, bold as frailty in the dimming sun,
Her radiant glow, a beaming light, a dash of fun.
Pampered dear, she smiles so bright
Her essence pierces through the darkest night.
A mix of stuff, a potpourri –
Her cries; her laughs; her undying, unyielding ecstasy.
At home in fields where wild flowers bloom;
Endless frolic, the death of gloom!
Oh, just pure heaven! A Sunday setting sun in a beach,
Where all things are none;
Where ribbons and daisies frame her angelic face;
Her big brown eyes, sparkling pools of love and life;
A praise, a song; a silent never-ending cheer!
She is, she is! A baby at heart; the ever truthful bliss of utter youth –
When nothing matters but the fun, the growth, the learning, the promise of a rising sun!
That, and all just fades into the paleness of a grayish sky.
In time, the baby grows to be the lady every man will be swoon by;
And yet, never a sigh; in her presence all the world’s just truth, there is no lie.
Her radiance, the answer to life’s daily grip;
Her love, the ship – to which I sail into a sunset that sparkles with forever’s warmth!
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Two schools of thought: 1) that happiness is best achieved when you know what you want and you set out to get it, or 2) that the best way to being happy is to make sure that people around you are happy first and foremost, and your shot at happiness will figure itself out. Both schools of thought require completely different approaches to life, and varying priorities that have to be catered in a precise and specific order for the desired outcome to be realized. In the first model of thought, the tricky part is figuring out what you want in life, and then re-aligning one's priorities so you can get there. This process requires a significant level of introspection - one will never know what he wants in life unless he fully knows and understands himself, and in today's dogged and jaded age where happiness comes in spurts and is as fickle-minded as the weather, this is easier said than done. Self-realization and actualization requires time; and while many will claim to know "who they are", not many are accurate and correct in that regard. The quest to know oneself, though pursued in a more discreet and dissident manner, is as ageless as the more popular, enigmatic and well-debated questions of evolution or religion or of encounters with the third kind. We are born with a barrel-load of questions, none more puzzling than "Who are we?" and "Why are we here?" and many have tried, and failed, in their personal quests to know who they are and what they want in life. But the alternative doesn't offer much either. The second model requires that we spend more time socializing; that we crawl out of our hermit shells and explore our proximate world, that we actually acquire the gusto and the vigor to care about other people's business; that we are willing to lay on the line our own personal quirks and idiosyncracies just so that we can put others' first and the "I" only second. While it is actually easier to just listen from people and deduce from all these conversations, assuming you have all the patience in the world to actually care and give a d*mn, as to what makes them happy, the harder part is convincing yourself that such an exercise in self-sacrifice will really yield positive effects. Unfortunately, and this is not to demean what it means to be human, man is.... as he is currently constituted... inherently selfish! We all have our agendas, and most of them aren't for the greater or common good. The state of things have reduced our spirit to one of cynicism and self-preservation; gone are the optimists and the prime movers, all that we have are vagabonds and stargazers, the dreamers and well-wishers who got stuck in the quagmire of the present and have since built their own cocoons of self-preservation and isolation. And it's not as if, even after you've figured out what is it that makes you happy, working for the stuff that matters comes that easily. Life never plays fair, does it? If not for the indomitable spirit that defines us to be men and not mere animalia, we would have lost out on living and loving ages ago. But then again, the reason why ants and bees have been successful in the race to conquer the earth is precisely because they do not have a sense of self outside of that which is required by the colony. They all have their places in the hierarchy of things, and while life might not play fair all the time, they can always take comfort in the fact that as long as they did their best in what they're supposed to do, everything would have already been fine and where they will have failed despite giving their best, they know someone's always there to take their place and carry the struggle on. From the ants' or the bees' point of view, it could have been completely incomprehensible to live life alone; to have so many things to deal with all at the same time, after all these 6-feeble-insect legs can only carry that much weight. In the same regard, it would have been completely incomprehensible for man to forget his sense of identity and live within the confines of Plato's idyllic The Republic. We've all known that absolute power corrupts absolutely, and that there still is no better alternative to the blessings of democracy and individual freedom. We'd rather be dead than be enslaved by the system or by individuals pretending they want to uphold "the" system. If it was up to me, and I've always lived this way, when it comes to family model#2 has always been best; anything and anyone outside of family, because everybody would like to think that "to each his own", only model#1 can save you from certain disaster. The challenge therefore is to make friends, as many as you can ever make, and strive to have as many of them as logically, emotionally, and practically possible, qualify to becoming family - and in the process hope that you won't get a painful crash course in trust matters (but of course, life tells you issues on trust is a virtual certainty, ala Chapter#2 in Life101). After all, we've been taught that no life is more enviable than that lived with close friends and family because where the tangibles will run short, it is the love from those people that we truly value that is the penultimate source of happiness, joy, satisfaction and contentment. If we've made friends, then we would have travelled more than halfway through to happiness valley. Or as Dr. House would put it ever so clearly: "There's an evolutionary imperative why we give a crap about our family and friends. And there's an evolutionary imperative why we don't give a crap about anybody else. If we loved all people indiscriminately, we couldn't function." Now, ain''t that the perfect excuse to be "self-interested?" Don't trust my opinion though... Heavy psychoanalysis on supposedly chill-out weekends don't make for excellent Monday opening salvos. Besides, you wouldn't really want to listen to a drivel on old-soul issues when life can be much more fun, right? Welcome (the narcissistic) Dr. House!
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| 2008-07-10 06:46 |
| Us, Boys |
| Public |
| contemplative |
| Nickelback - Far Away |
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Sitting in my Friendster Inbox not that many hours ago was a mail from a childhood friend, one that asked whether there's anything that I can do to help him find work in the Metro. Work! Yes, work! That mail made me laugh and at the same time sent shivers down my spine. Not only did it make me realize how my perspective and priorities, and social circles and the breadth of my social awareness, change over the years that I haven't been able to brush elbows with that friend, it also sent my head spinning back into "reminisce mode." Right before my eyes flashed the best and the worst moments of a childhood spent in the bowels of provincial living: the bullies and the bullied - feel free to guess where my lanky frame back in the day classified me into, as if by the ever-complex and unfathomable rules of genetic or nutritional lottery how the course of my next 15 years of formative growth were already decided just by how tall or stocky I was; the muddied shirts at days' end; the endless frolic in the waist-high bushes that could have housed a 10-foot snake and nobody who have noticed, and gave nothing but rashes and welts and itches once you're done conquering, or being conquered, by such an unforgiving playground. Back in those days, the only computer that we knew of was Nintendo's family computer made famous by cool "Super" Mario, his laid-back brother Luigi, and that princess who always manages to get herself abducted by that spiky green specked cuddly-cutie we all called a "dragon" (and who wouldn't if your bodyguard is a guy with a polka-dot mushroom dome for a head). There were no PSPs, no DOTAs, no Warcrafts or Starcrafts or Counterstrikes; heck, we we're 5 years removed from the addiction that is Sega! Back then, fun only meant one thing: getting dirty, and we liked it no other way! Fast forward to today where advances in technology have suddenly ushered in the era of college drop-out billionaires, computer savvy 10-year olds, faceless and visaless cyber-travellers, information gobblers turned celebrity stalkers; one way or another, even the youngest of the young is now hooked up to a digital network, free to roam the world at the touch of a button. While these developments have considerably helped us in the way we get and process information, it also has undoutedly cocooned us in our own perfect worlds, oblivious to nothing but the remaining balance on your Ragnarok card, and accountable to no one. We have created our own little bubbles, alternative states of reality behind paper-thin LCD monitors and power-saving microprocessors. As the cliche goes, we have shrunk our world to such a small size and yet we are further from each other than we were ever before. Our social skills are now honed in the hallways of Friendster and MySpace, our politeness in the art of social interaction bound only by the rule that a phrase written in all capitals is equivalent to a shout. Gone are the hard-earned lessons in the playgrounds of life. Instead of brained and brawned teens shaped and molded by the miles of running playing tag (in Bisaya, "dakpanay"), we now have eyeglass-wearing 12 year olds that are for sure 15 pounds overweight and are slaves to soda and pizza. Where before, our ability to think strategy was polished by "patintero", we now have the blessings of computer-based strategy-games, packed with the hottest challenges and the coolest features, as a welcomed substitute. The risk-taking values taught by "tumbang preso" are now nothing more than a history lesson, something that we have lost to the meager grains of the sands of intervening time; the value of trusting your teammate to pull you through in a game of "syatong", of social acceptability despite obvious deficiencies in the area of physical strength or street-smarts, are now nothing if not replaced by calling for reinforcements when your homebase is hard-pressed in a Warcraft game; even the sheer joy of hoarding filthy marbles, and rubber bands, and text cards are now nothing if not memory to the young and the growing. In a span of less than 15 years, the games that I have grown playing in are nothing but gone! Arguments can be made as to how this digital age has reshaped, for the worse, the way we socially raise a growing kid - but I won't go there. Like every change in social norm, the things that we now enjoy as need are packaged with as much caution and warning; used the wrong way or in excess and the disadvantage can be staggering, and at times irrepairable. That cautionary tale rings through to every parent who is now having a hard time prying his kid from infront of the computer monitor or the tv and into the outside world where bruises and cuts are trophies to be proud of, not pains to be shunned from; where sweat is welcome, not grossed on; where fist fights are sometimes a necessity if we are to raise kids that are a little bit stronger, more attuned to the realization that life is a procession sprinkled with a few nails and thorns in a road as unpaved as they can come, so that somehow, someway we would have equipped them with the skills necessary to tough it out when the going gets rough (which, as life has taught us, is a virtual certainty). As for me, I can only smile. Call me lucky! I've been caught in the transition phase, a taste of both worlds, and handed the keys to picking that which I think will make me better in the things that I will do moving forward. But that's not the best thing about this exercise in remembering. What strikes me the most is the realization that all those times, I've made good friends, great friends! The very same guys I've fought with over marbles or rubber bands or text cards, either because they cheated (or I cheated) when counting the pay-out, the very same ones I've had fist fights with - gloves or no boxing gloves, the very folks that I shouted profanities to, the ones that I laughed with, did stupid things with, the very partners who I enjoyed eating "ginataang" catfish with, the very ones who have pushed me to the ground and/or helped me get up - those very folks, in hindsight, are the ones I can truly call as friends. Those relationships, honed in the battlegrounds of youth and fueled by the gusto of teenage hormones, are now the ones that I fondly remember when asked to name my "so-called" buddies. They're the ones I've spent the most time with, the ones I bathed in mud with, the ones who saw me butt-naked singing in the rain. They! Friends! And while we all have blazed our separate trails to the top, we would have all looked back and smiled at our exploits however stupid they now seem to be! They're the ones who never fails to send a text message or post Friendster comments come birthdays, wherever they may currently be, the ones that I manage to squeeze a few hours with over the Christmas holidays to catch up on stuff, talk about the good and the bad and everything else that is off-limits to anybody we haven't had the pleasure of brushing naked butts with back then. It's funny how we can be just boys back then, how we've grown to become men, now! And yet time still changes nothing; it's still us, boys! And I can't help but smile.
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| 2008-06-12 17:09 |
| Still |
| Public |
 peaceful |
| Hillsong Australia - Still |
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..It's been a month since I last wrote something here; for a while there I thought I'd spend a good portion of the rest of my life writing after the proverbial dam broke almost a year ago and I found it so wanting to start writing again. If you remember those times as I fondly remember them, writing has been cathartic; it has been a refuge; the beauty of writing is that there are no real expectations associated with it - you simply write what you feel without regard for tone or voice (angst or optimism are as transparent as emotions come), take away the occasional grammatical blunders and the world is a happy place when you write from the heart! For the most part, writing is something that most people run to when they want to express good or bad feelings! Some write to share, whether it be the learnings from a bad week or the blessings from a good one. For others, writing is the first thing that gives when things turn for the worse and you need to surrender something "extra"; and still for others, writing is that one thing that ever remains constant - so constant in fact that you can take away almost everything from them, leave them with a pen and a few sheets of paper, and they'll find solace in the fact that they have that avenue to share their emotions to the world at large. I haven't been writing, but that isn't the news! While I have had a rollercoaster of a ride in the last month, and a lot of those had to do with heavy hearts and missed chances, I have continued to dwell in the blessings that the LORD never fails to provide.. When it rains it pours; in some cultures, the rain is a sign of blessing! When GOD opens the heavens for His blessings to flow, they come in truckloads, boatloads! We only need to be more aware, we only need to be more trusting; in these tense moments that we feel we are lost, or battered, or tossed, it is comforting to know that we can look up and recognize that someone bigger than all these has our hearts in His hands. He never fails! The news is that I haven't been writing because I've been busy counting my blessings; that the very reason why I have remained silent all this time was not because of the bumpy road, but the sights that I see in the distant horizon and how I have been lost in the amazement that comes with that feeling that regardless of what happens, there is THE God that comforts and THE God that heals! I still love writing! But every writer has to find solace one time or another to collect his thoughts, savor his victories, lick his wounds, and plan his next masterpiece. This is mine, my moment when I seek refuge not in the words that I write but in the words of Him that holds me in His hands. Perhaps after this, I will be writing again - to tell of the good fortune that awaits those who see life the way He masterfully planned it to pan out. Until then, I'm just here... ..Indeed, silence is golden, and more so for the verbose! I am never more comforted than when I allow Him to speak; His words, not mine! *_*
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I've been dying to write something about the benefits, and vagaries, of optimism and/or pessimism, of the countless and incalculable intangibles that people tend to miss when all that they have going in their heads are negative thoughts and suffocating worries; when all that they have left in their lives is the assurance that if you think negatively about the future, then life wouldn't get any worse that what it currently is and by then, you wouldn't be disappointed by anything that comes your way.. ..Well, that and the fact that there's an inherent dilemma in being an optimist: people keep telling you how fortunate you are to be in a different boat, that you are better off with all that positivism and energy, that there's a whole world out there that can find use of your exuberance and fire; and yet amidst all the hype that optimism cures most of our worldly woes, we can't find it within ourselves to cross that thin gray line between being a pessimist towards becoming an optimist, that in all these mantra and chanting and exultation of the positive energies that flow through life, we - the positivists few - end up appearing as if we are plain delusional, detached from the harshness of reality, devoid of the concept of pain and suffering, or worse a walking indifferent moron, oblivious to or just simply too calloused, amidst the blanket of daily absurdities and profligacies that have become our bread-and-butter but that which continues to elude the optimists while it has all this time managed to shelter the pessimists by arming them their daily dose of cynicism and realism. I find it hard to fathom that we adore optimists, but we fall back to the comforts of "This is me, this is just how I am!" when the call to become one knocks on our doors. I've had more than my share of these thoughts, and while I continue to "preach" optimism in healthy doses, I'm not sure if I have been speaking loud enough for everybody to hear. This is frustration at it's finest, a realization that most things are simply beyond your control no matter how hard you try, a recognition of the one true concept that man is independent and wholly self-sustaining, that we are islands separated by the widest expanse of water symbolic of life's ever-pressing problems - waves that pound our shores to the extent that when the clear waters come, we lose sight of its beauty because we get caught up in the preparations for the next coming storm... This is a "matter-of-fact" difference in opinion that will not be resolved by discussions over coffee, unless caffeine suddenly turns into this perspective-altering drug that can make you see how beautiful is the view from the other side. This isn't about putting down the opposite side, arguing from the other's podium, and raising wine glasses to honor your uber-enlightened self. This is not a debate, and even if it is, there is no side that's assured of winning.. This is... This is me talking in my head! This is me writing! Because.. I can't help but realize that it might just have been me that's wrong all this time; I'm fighting a losing cause; I've been swimming against the current for a while now and I'm just starting to realize that I might be just swimming in the wrong direction; I'm waging a fruitless war! All this notion that different is good, that retrograde Venus is beautiful, that being an oasis of spirit and passion is salvation in the finest of definitions; all this belief that I am a torch, bearing change, daring norms, defying conventions... All this, all this could be wrong! What I think is my reality; I revel in it. But to many, that torch might just have been a candle in the wind.. So I write this to release myself from all this doubt! The lures of "If you can't beat them, join them!" are much to dazzling to be ignored; not without an outlet to free yourself from all this tar! Because accept it, why should I put an effort into mustering a smile every day when the obvious and easy way would have been to frown and sulk? This is me, doing therapy to my own self; this is me vainly hoping that catharsis can come from within, because when we've lost hope that the world will provide, that last bastion of self-assurance lies within, in the very spirit that made me me this all this time! I can't wait for the world to change! Neither will I strive to change the world. Perhaps that's where things can be different this time. It's the realization that we're not being asked-tasked-dared to change the world; surely, not by ourselves, and not just like that.. We are rather asked-tasked-dared to change our little part of the world, that portion that we belong to everyday, what we call work, home, and friends.. Ten people, maybe twenty. Still no easy task! But better than changing the perspective of 6 billion people.. Surely, a much more doable dare! Something much more achievable than being Gandhi or mirroring Nelson Mandela where "fulfillment doesn't only mean achieving your highest dreams in life, but also living a life that makes the lives of others worth living." Perhaps that very same definition in the context of a more "important" few, no longer that of the exorbitant many! This is my ministry, my curse! I dare to be bright because perhaps I still believe that the dying embers of a lone cigarette butt can ignite a forest fire that will burn to change the landscape. Perhaps! I'm optimistic, call me weird, in that regard... Even if reality doesn't really favor my cause! But then again, isn't that what optimism is supposed to mean?
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There's a particularly interesting lesson that can be learned from roller coasters that apply perfectly to our disjointed and oftentimes twisted view of life. Consider, the ultimate roller coaster ride is one where you feel the most twists and turns, the bumps and hazards, the thrill and the pleasure all at the same time. The ultimate ride is that which brings you to the edge and then back, one that sometimes demands so much screaming and cursing, and yet the adrenaline rush tells you life can't be any sweeter than where you currently are; you heartbeat is raised to the extreme, pupil dilation is at a maximum, arteries constrict, core temperature rises, blood pressure skyrockets, respiration becomes rapid and shallow - if not totally suspended at times - the brain bursts of electrical impulses from nowhere to nowhere alerting you of danger that isn't really there, you're senses are on hyperdrive, loads of endorphins are released into the bloodstream firing up every single cell that deals with sensation and feeling, every single muscle tightens and spasm. Rollercoasters bring you to the very brink of sensation and thrill, right up there where you can look at death in the eye and spat on his face knowing you win this round and that his time is yet to come. All these things are mirrored in this thing we call "life" where problems and dangers and issues and heartaches and challenges and pains and brokenness and death follow us like a plague of locusts feasting on a green leafy field in spring. We are like food to the gods of malice; pawns to the gods of war and misfortune; slaves to the demons of pain and anguish. We are toys, experimental lab rats made to enjoy the ride while the master controller comfortably sits in his chair awaiting the conclusion of one and the start of another batch, and with it bringing more screams and hysterics. But get this; the truly spirited, the optimist, the realist, the cynic, the pessimist, the calculating and always guarded, the subtly decadent and the sensually hedonistic, the weirdo's and the vagabonds - all these can't help but marvel at the captivating power of those metal monsters that call miles and miles of twisted track and inverted loops their home. Right before we step into the demon that takes us to wherever, we feel a pang of apprehension and a tinge of fear. We wish there was a way to back out, that we wouldn't need to be there in the first place, that all this is just another leisure we can do without. And then the thrill.... And beyond that, just a calming conquering feeling, the type that tells you "you are great" for mastering your inner demon, a sense of achievement that defies comprehension, some form of success that you can't begin to describe.. When you think about it, rollercoasters are the kings of the park. We most often can't do without them. We find ourselves happy and content and peaceful, and then the dare for a rollercoaster ride presents itself. The beauty of it all, this trip to the park, this dare to jump and just be carried around, this wanton disregard for control, this thirst to be subjected to a force greater than ourselves, this intentional subscription to suffering and pain, all this is what makes that trip to the park such a worthwhile endeavor. It tells us that happiness isn't mutually exclusive with pain, or the concept of it. It's all a giant roller coaster ride; we have moments where we just wanna throw up, moments that spin our world around, moments when we are upside down and totally helpless, moments when we are completely at the mercy of the elements, when we are thrown around from side to side, when all semblance of control has left us. And at the end of it all, we stand smiling and happy, a little roughed up, but happy nonetheless. We can't get all that we want in life. Our profound obsession with "what could be's" will only leave us battered and torn and disappointed. There is the path of the rollercoaster, a meandering mess of twists and turns and bumps and thrill. You don't know where it will take you, you only know where it will end up. But does it really matter? After all, it's the thrill of the ride, the joy of the wind rushing through your face, that split-second of reality where we loss ourselves, where we feel we are one with life, that's that really counts. And you can even consider; in the off-chance that we die in the process, morbidity aside, at least we have spent our very last moments enjoying the ride! It couldn't be sweeter no matter the outcome! And with it the feeling that in that one fleeting instant, we have never felt more alive than we currently are!
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Everything is hazy! There's a blur everywhere I look, a curtain of uncertainty draped upon the waking hours that I use to relish and be proud off. Where there was once clarity and purpose, now there is only vagueness and ambiguity. I seem to have stumbled into a sea of fog and confusion; where before my compass was sure and determined, now there is only a hint of that which I previously "thought" I believed in, and I am desperately hanging on to that tiny sliver of what has once for me a purpose and a sense. But everytime I think about it, I fall even further. I'm losing grip. From here, I can only see the fall to perdition. I suppose I had this coming all along, I was simply not paying attention and could have missed the signals. That light, that sparkle, my light, my sparkle! That incessant whisper in my ear like a demon, my inner demon, ambling, fighting for possession and waging war on the "is" for want of a "would be." When one is most complacent, he is most vulnerable. Whether intentional or not, the only thing that matters is that one moment in the beginning, that point of suggestion when everything else comes to life. "Let there be "this"!" Then, everything flashes right before your eyes. Everything is given reason, all things are being accounted for! You start seeing logic where before there was only coincidence and randomness. The conception of the thought, the birth of the feeling made real by the claim that now it is observable when once there was only normality. Now there is preference! You look at a tree and realize it was once just a tiny seed; you marvel at canyons and remember that where there is now an expanse there was once only a crack; from a single-celled organism out grows man - the examples are endless, the possibilities are boundless; ideation is the thief that steals what is and throws you into a tossing sea of uncertainty where not even your heart or your head can do anything to help you. It's sick, this confusion, this erosion of belief and the birth of something else! It bothers you the way a mosquito does on a warm humid night. The only respite is sleep, but you know you can't because it won't let you. You simply stay awake, a prisoned insomniac to the delusions of conscientious morality! Stuck; caught knee-deep in the quicksand of lies and deceits; where the struggle only leads you to sink more. I no longer know what to believe. My truth has been muddled and obscured by my wants and my desires. I know not what to choose. I know there is no both, there is only here and there. I could just stop and leave things as they are, but then I'd be crying in my sleep and would have wasted to forgottenness. Will I be trading pain and ruin for a lifetime of superficial happiness? Or I could be free and lose everything. The road to Golgotha is laden with thorns, not one of which you can dare escape from once the walk has been made. Surely I can muster that; better a litfetime of ridicule and intrigue than this secret that's devouring me from within. I don't know! I'm simply plodding along, hauling this carcass of indecision. I catch myself oftentimes staring into nothing, thinking about nothing, and hoping for nothing. The day is my enemy, the night my tormentor. There is no escape, no way out. I pray I get sorted out, just like that. My Deus Ex Machina! My fairy godmother waving her magic staff and things are well again! "Prince Charming coincidentally finding Cinderella!" But it's not that easy. This is not a fairy tale, it's a nightmare of epic proportions. A dilemma so gripping, I don't know what to do! I want to melt into a wall, and disappear from memory. If cowardice is my "ever after" then so be it! So help me God! It has everything to do with that conversation, that suggestion, that tease that rolled out everything like a dam suddenly breaking under the weight of a wild raging river. I'm not blaming you. But, damn! To hell with reason! My "aura has betrayed" me, and now I'm doomed to dying whichever road I take. I'm lost! Save me! Help me find my way back! Rescue me from these delusions of belongingness. Make me understand, make me wake up. Make me know this irresponsibility. Let me think again; allow me once more to be sane and be lucid. Chase away these shadows.., Please don't let them come back again.
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confused
chipper
ditzy
thankful
sore
sick
quixotic
artistic