Reverberation

Ever morning, I look in the mirror and say, “What are you smiling about?”. I start reminiscing, pondering whether I have anything to thank for from this small and stupid life. I stare blankly at the mirror at first. Then I begin to frown; my forehead starting to wrinkle from the stress of stressing myself. I sigh in frustration and open the faucet. The freezing, 4am temperature of the water wakes me and brings me back to reality. It’s time to go to work. I look around and realize that I’m not the only one grumbling, silently cursing the morning traffic jam. I unknowingly overhear a conversation of two of the jeepney passengers. One mutters, “Sus, ingani nasad ka traffic unyang hapon inig uli. Di na jud mo asenso ang Pilipinas!” (I bet the trafiic situation will be like this later in the after noon. The Philippines will never progress!); her voice trailing off as her words seep into my mind, lodging a thousand words. I was not a philosophy major. But I knew then, that her point of view was one that would give Socrates and his successors a sense of pride for what they had evoked upon the minds of many. I would normally dismiss such words and bury them under the most dorsal part of me, supporting my decision with the fact that I am just a simple citizen of this country, what can I do? But then, I start to think, these are the kind of behavior that bring about such comments.

The jeepney comes to a halt and a guy tries to squeeze his butt inside the crammed up jeepney. The thought that jeepneys have a 18-passenger capacity, provided that the latter is as thin as paper, immediately came fluttering around my think tank. I was going to catch a quick nap before I reached Lahug but then this guy brought out his mobile phone and started punching like crazy, sans the keypad tone which would give any normal person the initiative to plot vengeance. As if this was not irritating enough, we were in a dead zone. Ears are meant to be lent. But they’d rather have taken a back seat that time. The “Message Not Sent” beep was killing my two lovelies! What was this guy trying to do? Give us all auditory defects? Was it me or was everything getting to the driver too? He started honking at the pedestrians crossing the street, oblivious to the fact that the lights already signaled red. I tried shutting my ears from the world during that present scenario but to no avail, I was not able to catch a single wink. All this, and it wasn’t even raining. "Mag taxi jud ko unya inig uli kay para makapahuway ko." (I will definitely hail a cab later so I can rest well.) I got off the “teleserye” ride when we reached Salinas Drive. I hope the 9 - hour shift will zoom past me so I can go home to my friend’s house – my only refuge.

After hours of ranting, I was all ready to go. Drat! It felt like hell stepping out of the office's air-conditioned premises. Just a few steps to the jeepney stop and I was there. As I got in and waited for the jeepney to hit the road, I began to recognize that familiar smell passengers chance to whiff each time they take the ride. When will all the PUJs be equipped with air conditioners or should we say odor blasters? Even the humid atmosphere inside the train seemed to take shape and form a veil around me, making me even more uncomfortable. Little did I know, this was just the beginning of another hilarious adventure. I couldn’t help but smirk when two men started shouting, each accusing the other of having the bad odor. I was grinning from ear to ear and before I knew it, all the other passengers were gregariously laughing, some, routing for one of the two contenders; some, stoking fire on the two’s already heated argument; some, commenting out loud that we all had the same uninviting scent, thanks to the jeepney's crammed up accommodations; and some simply shrugging off the petty incident.

Robinson's Mall! This was where I finally got off. I rode a jeepney to Mandaue, considering the smoke from the passing vehicles my final touch-up. I arrived at A’s house, an ugly wreck. But he smiled, asked me to come in, offered me his towel to freshen up, and bought bottled water from the sari-sari store across. We had a rich conversation of funny experiences and instances you’d love to abhor’ our personal vendettas, and our not-so-secret aspirations. This was when my post-thoughts earlier in the morning came flooding back. What did I have to thank for in my life? Then the answer turned crystal. The simple things of course! Turning bad things into a good laugh, a friend being there for you, signs and mementos of love, prayer. It’s nice to know that everything is not so senseless. That there is always purpose whether it be for the simple reason of reflection, or for the optimistic reason of making a difference.

Every morning, I look in the mirror and say, “What are you smiling about?”. I start reminiscing, pondering whether I have anything to thank for from this small and stupid life. I stare blankly at the mirror at first. Yeah, I have a lot - friends and loved ones, food on the table, the crisp sound of a hundred peso bills, my job, being able to learn a new vocabulary (so feeling genius for a second)... That's indeed a lot! Then I begin to frown; my forehead starting to wrinkle from the stress of stressing myself. I sigh in frustration and open the faucet. I'll just think later. The freezing, 4am temperature of the water wakes me and brings me back to reality. It’s time to go to work.

Magic

You might have disappeared but still...

I am under your spell!

Annmae

The people who call themselves her friends say they like her; sometimes she isn't quite so sure. They are the same ones who raise their eyebrows at her. At least they sometime laugh at her jokes. She's going to prove them wrong one day. "They'll see", she says, like the typical 'misunderstood girl'.

She says she doesn't care, but I know she does. She doesn't feel like she's part of anything, like she's just there for the ride, or just "there" as she eloquently puts it. Maybe she'll find her niche somewhere. She wants to find herself, even though that's who she's always with. She knows the sun's going to blow up, but thinks that humans will have destroyed themselves by then.

She likes to hear both sides of the story.

She thinks she's slow. I think it's because she has so many ideas in her mind at once and just doesn't know how to express herself except through writing. Sometimes she has a hard time trying to find the right word. She writes down words she doesn't know when she's reading, but usually forgets to look them up afterwards. She likes to have a dictionary next to her when she reads so that she won't forget. Right now the dictionary is under her car seat, so I guess all new words will be forgotten.

She's two-sided, but not two-faced. She always compares things, and uses phrases like "on the other hand" often. People tell her she's smart, but when she looks in the mirror she just can't see it.

She's lost, although she's really good with directions.

Since she's such an indecisive person, she can't explain herself well at all. Maybe that's why she feels so misunderstood.

She likes to write poetry too. I can actually think some of it sucks, but I still like them because she tried to express herself. She's getting better at that too. Writing helps her to speak, which is something she thinks she needs to do more of, even though she knows that silence is golden and that the fool speaks because he has to say something while the wise man speaks because he has something to say.

Whenever she does something she's proud of, she usually despises it a minute after she finishes. Maybe it's because of her self-critical, self-conscious, paranoid, no-one-will-like-me nature. She wants to be accepted, even though she knows that doesn't matter. I like her but she doesn't really care about me.

She thinks she's a failure, but remembers that Einstein flunked math.
She doesn't understand why people say they like her, but never go through with their plans.
She wishes she could write a novel, but doesn't think her vocabulary is extensive enough.
She thinks she's going to ruin her life with so many "buts" and negatives.

You could call her depressed, happy, crazy, balanced, confused, organized, fickle, constant, skeptical, trusting, pensive, outgoing, intelligent, inept, vivacious, slothful, interesting, flat, fatuous, prudent, embarrassed, nonchalant, caring, apathetic, one-dimensional, multilateral.

I call her horseshit. And yes, she has a name. Annmae.

Triumphs!

I didn’t become a lawyer, as I would have planned. Neither have I bought a helicopter for my parents or a Benz for my brother. I entered a career divergent from my childhood dreams. My dreams may have changed, but my ideals have remained the same. The same as those of children.

Occasionally, I remind myself of those dreams, to refresh myself on personal designs in life. However, in life as it is said, nothing is constant but change. Sometimes, these ideals are lost during the early years of people’s careers. Sadly, principles deteriorate, as men grow older. When people begin to earn and get positions. When the concept of money and recognition comes in, values are distorted to conform to the norms and practicality of life.

For some people, the lawyer ambition will soon be replaced with a variety of goals like buying a new car, owning a flat, being promoted, or obtaining a higher degree. Goals digress to something material. Something we can squeeze out instant satisfaction from. Materials that people think gauge their success in life. Perhaps something to show off to their peers and tell how much they have gone in their careers.

I choose to remain naive and a child at this. I don’t believe that the time I’ll spend racing for money will surmount to the number of people I can help. I don’t believe that recognition will outdo lessons I will learn from others and from life. I don’t want to believe that a career should be spent egocentrically volleying for the highest position and earning the largest possible salary. I refuse to admit that a vain drive of achieving material ambitions would bring me contentment.

There is nothing wrong in seeking ambitions. But, there is no genuine satisfaction that can be attained from material wealth. The craving for it will leave a person more obsessed and yearning. A craving which can never be pacified. A new benz cannot replace the joy you gain from the company of your friends. A fat paycheck cannot compare to a peaceful mind. I believe that friends and family should be in the top of our priorities. I believe that happiness in what we do is significant in our lives. Above all, I believe that lives should be spent fruitfully with God.

I am not being a hypocrite by trying to live with such beliefs. Like all people, I falter too. But I would rather live materially incomplete but content, than be wealthy but selfish. Afterall, I am not the only needy person living in this world.

Almost!

The luminescent blue clock on the night table says it's 12:15 a.m. You wake up peacefully for a moment, then remember that it's not Saturday. It's Thursday. Two more heavy days when you still have to get up and work. It seems like you just lay your head on the pillow seconds ago...you were so tired after the third long day of the work week, and there are two more to go.

Dread sets in, and your innards rumble sympathetically. Sweaty hands...is this a hot flash, or just more anxiety? A tiny dull throbbing starts in your right temple.

Yes, I'm tired. I am not complaining about my job. I love what I do but as what the Spice Girls used to say, "too much of something is bad enough." I am disagreeing though with so much vehemence how classes and trainings are tossed to me like I'm some robot not capable of feeling exhaustion. A site with over 250 FTEs are resting on the palms of my hands, skin on my shoulders, and saliva on my mouth because of all the trainings that I do. And no, I am not bragging about my competence. Not that I disdain training all of them, I am just freakin tired and I need a break. Like a mad cow straight in the field for so long now (God knows I cant recall the last vacation I took), I'm all to weak and exhausted, I feel pangs of pain all over my body and throughtout my veins. I mean seriously! And yes, I am already starting to feel that I have lost the ability to work effectively. And when this starts eating me up, I only do one thing - QUIT the job and walk away with my ticking stilletos. Yes, I can be very bitchy sometimes!

So when should you quit your job? How much should you put up with before you quit your job? When do you draw the line and stand up for yourself?

When you dread the thought of going to work everyday. When you are already fed up.

Each individual has their own time clock for moving on. As the economy stands today, and with jobs being as scarce, we are more willing to put up with nonsense if necessary, but there does come a time when enough is enough.

Yes! I am on the verge. One more occurence of declined or cancelled VL then off I go.

The grass after all is greener in IT Park.

Regrets

A friend visited me yesterday in the training room and he was just a touch of sadness all over. You see, months ago, he made one great decision that he never thought would change is life three hundred sixty degrees. He left his girlfriend of 3 years for someone else. And details of the break up I'd rather not discuss because it's not my story to begin with. What I know of is that , he ripped and shattered the ex girlfriend's heart into pieces enough for her to resign and move on elsewhere. He was confident he made the right choice. He ranted about not being happy anymore and that being with the new girl just felt right. Then yesterday came. He cried and admitted that yes, he made the wrong choice. He realized what a fool he has been for chasing momentary happiness with the new girl; wasting years of friendship, love, and happiness with the ex. And now all he can think of is wish he'd be given this one chance to undo and live his life over again. Truly, one can never be completely happy at the expense of others. Oh, well. We all learn things the hard way.

Why do we have regrets?

We all have regrets. I do. They are the things we wish we hadn't said or done and things we wish we had. We regret we weren't able to fulfill some of our dreams. When we expected someone would do something and they did not, or when we expected circumstances would turn out differently, we regret it. When illness or accident prevents us from doing what we had our hearts set on accomplishing, regret may seem too limiting a word to express our anger at the unfairness of it all.

Why do some of us spend so much time thinking about our regrets? The reason, I think, is fairly simple. We don't plan on making as many mistakes as we do and we assume a lot of things will turn out as we expect them to. And when we do, our minds return again and again to what "might" have been, "could" have been, or "should" have been. We replay the images that connect us to the events we now regret. Rather than getting rid of these images, our constant ruminations only give them fuel to grow ever more persistent.

But then again, life is too short to be wasted on wallowing on the wrong choices we made. I'd understand my friend's despondent state. He should. After all, he let go of one person who could have loved him like no one else can. But then, life has to go on. Perhaps, they will be given the chance to be back in each other's arm in time. But for now, he has to move on. He has to accept the fact that his happiness is but entirely dependent on his own now. That instead of regrets, he has to look back and appreciate the lessons her learned out of the choices he made. Because that's just how it should be.


------
Side track:
My good friend Stan dropped by my training room today and gave me a 200g Cadbury Chocolate from Singapore. Yes, dear readers, I am well - loved and thought of! =)

Now Sober!

No. I haven't lost my mind. Nor did some random soul claim possession of my body.

It's been over five long years since I became deviant. And by that, I mean literally obsessing my self of the world. I started to question my faith and stopped practicing the religion I grew up with - Mormonism. Five years ago, I made the choice to stop going to church and along with this, I chose to forget all the principles and standards that I vowed to follow and embody. I drowned myself with alcohol almost every damn day of my life. I smoked like I had no lungs. I cursed like there was no tomorrow. I ALMOST lost my virginity a lot of times. I literally forgot who I was years ago - the obedient daughter of Heavenly Father who goes to church every Sunday. My life then was totally different to what it is now. But then again, we all make big choices sometimes and this time there is no turning back anymore...

I have decided to quit drinking, smoking, and all that and will try so hard to work for my own salvation. It's not gonna be an easy task. I will receive mockery and most of my friends will perhaps question my ways and raise their eyebrows on the sides. But I will try harder to hold on to the iron rod with an unwavering faith and a firm testimony of how His gospel and teaching will change me in more ways than one.

No. I haven't lost my mind. Nor did some random soul claim possession of my body. I just believe that play time is over. Now I'm gearing up for yet another battle I will be facing and with steadfastness, I might just come out victorious in the end. =)

Efffffiiinnnggg!!!

I got off the cab and didn't expect to see you sitting by the stairs. Though I was rushing my way to the 3rd floor, the moment I saw you, I felt this sudden twitch of pain. Memories flashed like visions while I strutted towards the area you were sitting. You attempted to smile but I decided to look away and pretended that you were some random stranger. I was already inside the elevator on my way up when these thoughts resonated like raging wildfire. Things that I wanted to tell you but I never had the chance or couldn't muster the the courage to do so:

• fuck you for making me believe that there is hope in us by telling me to wait 'till you get your life straightened after that long and tumultuous hurdle with your addiction to all things prohibited...
• fuck you for seeing me that Saturday evening to get the dog I gave you when you were already officially together with J that same morning...
• fuck you for making me feel like Im the loveliest girl in this side of the archipelago when all that mattered to you was what I can give and what you can get out of it...
• fuck you for all the lies you told people and me...
• fuck you for raining me with text messages after I decided to turn away from you for good, trying to hurl me again to your web...
• fuck you for blaming me that you got terminated, you got no one to blame but you because you screwed your fucking calls up...
  
• and most of all, FUCK YOU for making me lose my sanity for a good three months...

You're one pathological liar and may you rot in hell alive!

Fuck you!

Back!

So I haven't been writing for the longest time.. I wouldnt make work the excuse this time because really, twas my decision not to write at all. I felt like all the things running around my head were nonsensical piece of crap that I opted to keep them in the remote areas of my consciousness.

How am I? Loaded. And that is even an understatement. 'Tis one of those days when you'd want to summon all the gods of the earth to just eat you alive. Stress level in the work place has reached the ultimate level of my tolerance and believe me, what I would give to be able to chase adrenaline like a junkie again. I mean seriously, all that politicking and self - gratification has weakened me to the core. An emotional wreck!

Take for example the fact that people are disappearing like hell and resigning because some idiots just don't know how to compromise. We are losing tenured agents because apparently management (that includes me) are so obsessed with pleasing the clients without even realizing that agents are already pitied against each other. I asked myself a million times what I can do to at least reach out to them but it turns out that my hands are tied, mouth is glued, and my principles are even stuck on some baseless judgment. Yes, I feel so disabled and it's hell of a frustration to look at them suffer and left to lick their wounds and whimper in the brush! That alone stresses the hell out of me... Messianic complex. I wish I can do something. But yeah, even wishing turned out to be nothing but an elusive dream.

That among others, has caused nothing but erratic surge and yes, I am already choking.

Somebody call 911.