Category Archives: Dreams

Final Sunday night thoughts

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It’s been a long time since I last wrote something here.  Before social media exploded in the last decade, this blog was my avenue for everything I wanted to say what I felt inside.  Be it personal experiences, ideas, opinions, or just shouting my frustration and emotions to the world, this was the most personal of my personal spaces.  Call it a shout to the void, a drop in the ocean, or a micro-blip on the radar, I felt comfortable knowing that everything I say here will forever be a part of history where only a tiny fraction of an audience among billions around the world will be able to pick up.

And yet, after posting this, I don’t know when my presence will be felt here again.  A lot of things happened during the last couple of months.  I became the happiest, most successful version of myself I have ever been in my life; and also became the lowest, most downtrodden shell of a person I have been.

During the early part of the year, my career was as its highest, and I was able to finally have a girlfriend.  Everything was going my way, and I couldn’t have asked for anything more.

Yet, in a span of five months, I lost everything.  And more.

Without going into too much specifics, first, I lost my job because the company I worked for decided to close down.  It wasn’t the closing itself, but how it happened.  I tried whatever I can to minimize the impact it had on the rest of us, but the decisions I made when things were winding down were probably wrong, to put it bluntly.  Secondly, while I was going through that tumultuous point in my career, my girlfriend left me (after initially asking for space).  She knew what was going on with my career, and she felt that how I handled life-changing situations–among other things–such as what happened at work is not how I should’ve done it; hence, she doesn’t feel safe and broke up with me…  via Messenger.  And third, the closing of the company hit me hard financially because we were not given any severance pay; so my savings also took a hit.  I had “friends” who borrowed money from me the last couple of months and years.  I had to ask them to pay me back since I needed the money for my expenses and payments.  Some with meager amounts owed me did pay up.  Others, just ignored and left me high and dry.

For me, it was a compounded version of Murphy’s Law.  For about eight weeks, I struggled with the backlash of what happened with work, while at the same time trying to save a relationship and figuring out how to make ends meet.  I averaged only two to three hours of sleep which affected my health.  Some of my real friends who saw me were surprised at the amount of weight I lost.  Suicidal tendencies were not uncommon in my thoughts, wherein I was wishing that I wouldn’t wake up anymore or I would get into an accident, or someone who threatened to kill me will actually do it; just to “end it all.”  But, I’m still able to write this, so I am still alive.

What hurt me the most are the people who said that they care, or even love me, but just decided to not want to be a part of what I was going through.  Yes, I made mistakes; but I never blamed anyone except myself.  I may have fucked up in the worst possible way, and maybe I am reaping the fruits from it.  But I never, ever pointed a finger on anyone for the cause of whatever demise that came my way.

On the other hand, the age-old adage has been proven true:  “hard times reveal true friends.”  There were a count-by-one-hand number of people who still put friendship above everything else.  Of course, a tongue-lashing of what I should’ve or shouldn’t have done, or making me see the mistakes I’ve done are a given; but despite all of that, they still showed and gave support and encouragement in what I was going through.  Whether it be by simply asking how I am, or telling me to hang in there, or inviting me over for coffee just to talk about something entirely different to make me forget things temporarily, or offering whatever kind of help I need, those people became for me the embodiment of true friendship.

By them doing that, it made me also realize that there is some truth to another saying that goes, “treat others how you want to be treated.”  Some, because I almost always never get treated the way I treat others, especially those who I really care about.  As a friend, I’m someone who doesn’t interfere with my friends’ decisions or choices.  Like I’ve always said time and again to friends who are at a crossroads, “I can always tell you what you want to hear, or what you need to hear; in the end, the decision is yours to make and yours alone.  But whatever that decision is, right or wrong, I will support you as a friend.”  It’s rather unfortunate that these days, practicality takes precedence–even over friendship.  Or in some cases, believing what others say instead of what the friend says.

Yet in spite of some friends and loved ones leaving me, I try to understand them.  It’s painful, but as just mentioned, it’s their decision to make.  All I can do in the end is show them respect and make the effort to understand even though in doesn’t make sense trying to do so.  In the case of my ex leaving me, I’ll just put the blame on myself.  She did what she had to do which is look out what’s best for herself and for her kid.  The manner and timing may have not been ideal, but using her own words, “it is what it is.”  Despite trying hard to make her understand that what happened at work would definitely make me learn something aside from trying to improve in other aspects, she felt otherwise.  That being said, let me take this space and opportunity to apologize for me not being enough for you; for making the wrong decisions, and for letting you down.  I am terribly sorry.  Yet nothing changes in how I feel for you.  I understand what you did–or at least I am still trying to.

One thing that will probably never change in me though, is how I am.  I trust or put value in what others tell me–sometimes to a fault–especially in terms of agreements.  I don’t believe in the principle of “things can always change,” despite it being true, especially in this day and age.  I was raised to keep my word; so unless it’s a matter of life or death, when something is agreed upon, I will do anything and everything to uphold my end.  I almost always see the good in the people I meet; I never see the negative things outright even though we are always reminded to always be on guard.  Again, it goes back to treating others the way we want to be treated.  Another thing about me is that whenever I make a decision, especially personal ones, I stick to it no matter what.  If it kills me, so be it.  I sometimes take a long time in making those, but once I set my mind and heart to it, changing my mind will be an impossibility.  I know what I deserve, but I don’t have a sense of entitlement to be accorded that.  I’d rather go for what I want and love because we don’t always get what we know we deserve.  And even if what makes me happy makes me sad, then so be it.  I’d still go for it.

Slowly and painfully, I am getting back up.  I start a new chapter tomorrow.  It’s a long, long road back, and the backlash of everything that has happened isn’t over yet; but having a starting point is exactly just that:  a start.  With this new beginning, I have made some personal decisions.  One of them is logging off from all forms of social media.  I have stopped using Twitter for a couple of years now.  As for Facebook, well, since everything that has happened, I have been silent.  I already uninstalled the app from both my phones a couple of weeks ago and I haven’t checked on anything there, even from my laptop.  For me, nothing is worth posting or sharing anymore.  I’ve felt the happiest and most complete I’ve ever been in my life; and posting something that doesn’t come from the exact same feeling just doesn’t make sense.  And I’m not looking to replicate that happiness with anyone else.  Again, for me it doesn’t make sense anymore.  Why try to look for someone else when you’ve already found your happiness?  Moving forward, all I can do is what I do best:  survive.  Whether I become successful or not in my journey out of the absolute lowest point in my life, it doesn’t matter.  What’s important is I undertook the journey.

Let me end with two things.  First, no amount of preparation, foresight, planning, negotiations, contingency measures, or how you think you live your life, or have it all figured out will make your life–or anyone else’s–full-proof.  Life will find a way to absolutely fuck you up in ways you couldn’t imagine, things will go south on you, and everything may be swept from under your feet before you even know what happened or hit your head on the ground.  That’s how it is.  You’ll just have to deal with it as it happens.  You learn.  You get back up.  Whether you fully make it back up or not is irrelevant.  You tried.  And absolutely no one can take that away from you.

Secondly, here’s an excerpt from something I read a few weeks ago.  It’s about falling in love.  This describes how I am, or was, since I already made my choice.  At least I tried to make it work.  All I ask from everyone is to respect my decision about it.  Here it goes:

 

“Love is saying I see you, all of you, exactly how you are–the good, the bad, the things you don’t want anybody else to see.  I see what you’re ashamed of, what you wish you could hide.  I see these things, and I still love you.  I still choose you.

And you hope and pray and plead for the other person to do the same.

To take your set of shortcomings and love them in the same way.

To stick around when shit gets unimaginably hard and tough and complicated.

To choose you back.”

 

It’s now back to dinners and movies for one.

I don’t know when will I be back online again.  In any case, I already assigned a legacy contact to handle my Facebook account should something happen to me.

Until then, this is me, signing off.

loss

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It wasn’t how I imagined starting off my 39th year…  or ending this month for that matter.

In just a span of seven days, I have gone to two wakes:  one, for the father of a good friend; the other, for the six-month old son of a good former colleague.  With their ages on the opposite sides of the spectrum, so too were the nature of their deaths.

The father, though advanced in years, was very healthy on the day he died.  As told to me by my friend, he even went to the market in the morning and did some other activities.  That night, after getting something to drink and upon sitting down on the bed to get some sleep, he just choked and died (if I remember the story correctly).  My friend was supposed to come home from Australia earlier during the month for a vacation, but since she was sick with the flu during that time, the father himself told her not to come home yet due to quarantine issues for travelers who are sick (and she even works in a hospital that accepts patients with Ebola symptoms).  I could just imagine the irony of it all.  The family refused to have the body autopsied since it would never really tell them anything; aside from the fact that, well, it won’t bring him back.

The baby boy on the other hand, had Type One Spinal Muscular Atrophy (SMA).  It was already diagnosed while he was still inside the womb, has no cure, and the life expectancy of the infant is between six months to two years.  It turns out that both parents unknowingly have that gene that passes SMA to their baby.  What’s more heartbreaking is that this is their second child who passed away with the same disease; their first born having died after seven months of him having it.  So in a way, both parents have somehow “prepared” for the inevitable.  The father (my former colleague) even had the notion of preparing a PowerPoint presentation of all the pictures taken of their baby during the short time he lived on this earth while he was confined in the hospital during the final days.  It was shown to me while I was there, and I just marveled at the baby’s smile despite not fully aware of what’s going to happen to him, as well as the parents’ strength to go through the same ordeal twice; only this time, they were more knowledgeable about the disease and did everything they could to make their son’s very short journey through life a memorable one.

It doesn’t matter if it was sudden or somehow anticipated, nothing really prepares you and nothing comes close to the pain of losing someone dear.  Whether it be a family member, a friend, or a loved one, the reality of not being with them anymore hits us so hard and cuts us so deep that it paralyzes us; and makes us question everything without really knowing anything.  I lost someone too this week.  Though not in the same manner as the two people I mentioned, but the feeling is exactly the same.  It is both as sudden as it is somehow anticipated; I did everything I can, yet it was also beyond my control.  I guess with these two wakes I went to, it’s like fate trying to soften the blow in dealing with my own loss.  But what it also did was made me lose one more thing:  my personal faith.  Up until last week, despite my struggles, I tried to keep that faith going.  That somehow despite fully knowing that what I am doing is sincere, selfless, and nothing short of pure, at the end of the day, goodness will always prevail over adversity.  But it didn’t.  At least for me.  It just showed how I am truly destined to be part of the unlucky ones.

So now, I also mourn.  Not just for what was lost, but also the loss of what might have been.  The loss of something so real that I risked everything for it.  The loss of happiness that I truly want.  The loss of believing.  .There may not be a wake or an elaborate final send off; just trying to keep a straight face amidst the tears and trying to act like nothing happened by covering it with a smile (if I can).  But the pain is there.  Pain so real it’s crippling inside.  And it may be there for a long time, or will probably never go away.

Toll the bell.

closing out a great year

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With five hours before the stroke of midnight and the new year begins, I can’t help but be reminiscent of the year that was.  Traditionally, I’m supposed to be outside the house, lighting rockets and probably halfway to tipsy land; but with all the things that happened to me this year, I’m feeling quite nostalgic.  So I’m veering away from what is the norm for me, and using the remaining time in the year 2013 to do a quick look back and savor all the events that helped make this year the best I’ve ever had in my life…  so far.

2013 for is memorable in so many aspects.  I won’t go into every little detail (for now) since I’m still in that place where I’d like to keep those memories to myself.  But to give you an idea, I’ve experienced the highest of highs and the lowest of lows this year.  And while 2014 has already a new challenge waiting for me, there’s still that part of me that refuses to let go of 2013–primarily due to the fact that personally speaking, I never thought I’d experience the one thing I wasn’t really looking forward to… and I mean that in the best of ways.

Let’s see…  I had the best birthday celebration I’ve had in years (decades even).  I upgraded my mobile phone after three years (into something that I really, really wanted).  I received good feedback about a story I wrote (and was even told I can be a full time writer). I went back to the gym (temporarily, but still had that experience of working out).

I trusted people who betrayed me and used personal stuff against me.  I saw first hand the worst of being unprofessional and unethical.  Grudges were held against me when all I did was comment on a procedure.  People took issue to what I say online when I have freedom of expression.  Plans were made only to be cancelled at the last minute.  A goodwill gesture I made was discarded like yesterday’s newspaper.  Subtle but obvious moves were made to get rid of me.  Negative stuff was said and written about me.  I was cast aside and taken for granted on multiple occasions; and my understanding, patience, and threshold for emotional pain were tested to their very limits…  until now.  My birthday and Christmas wishes did not come true.

I did things I wouldn’t normally do for someone.  I expanded my horizons and knowledge of what seemed to be trivial stuff, but important to other people.  I became more spiritual and prayerful.  I thought less of myself.  I rekindled my interest in dogs.  I’m beginning a new chapter in my career.

I went all in…  for the last time.  Whether it leads to happily ever after or another flat-faced disappointment, it’s something I’ll never do again for the rest of my life.

Yes, it has been a roller coaster ride; and it was all worth it.  There are less positives than the negatives and yet I still consider 2013 to be the best year for me.  The quality of the positives outweigh the quantity of the negatives.  Deep inside, until now, I can’t help but smile and shed a tear (literally as I’m typing this) as the year inches to a close.  I will always carry this year in my heart and fondly–and frequently–look back as this will serve as a treasure trove of inspiration and knowledge as 2014 runs its course.

It’s now less than four hours before midnight, and I suppose that’s enough reminiscing…  for now.  Time for me to start my way to tipsy land.  I hope 2013 was also a good year for everyone.  Here’s wishing that 2014 will be the same, if not better.  Stay safe in welcoming the new year, everyone!

And a most happy new year to you too.  #youknowwhoyouare

one heartfelt wish

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Prologue:  This will serve as an “unofficial reboot” of some sorts to my last entry.  Just mere minutes after publishing that one, a chain of events have unfolded which led me to… how would I say it… have a “change of heart” (pun intended).  Nevertheless, I still stood by what I wrote before, and since I’m human, I’m also allowed to change my mind sometimes; and this is one of them.

In a little over 30 days, I again turn another year older.  As I’ve mentioned before, I am a big fan of birthdays; just not my own anymore.  Because over the last decade or more, I have always made other people special when my birthday comes.  I throw parties (in which I obligatory do the spending, and it’s mostly for my family and relatives since they’re the closest to me), soaked up other people’s well-wishes, drank myself to a stupor, or practically did whatever the hell I wanted (within reason, of course).  But two things remained constant year after year:  one, I have not received a physical birthday gift since the early part of 2000 (if my memory serves me right, and yes, birthday cards do NOT count–at least for me; I consider that the thought, not a gift); and two, of course, I’m still single.

I don’t mind not getting any birthday gifts.  I’ve probably gotten used to that over time.  Maybe people throwing a party for me (and not me doing all the spending) would be something nice to experience at least once; but at this stage of my life, seeing most–if not all–my same-aged friends and schoolmates posting pictures online being with their significant others, or having their own families made me think, “am I ever, ever going to be like them?”

Those who really know me up close and personal know how my “love story” goes (if one would ever call it that).  I have fallen in love, was taken for granted, and gotten hurt several times but none even came close to having a real relationship after the last one I had back in ’95-’96.  It’s like I’ve mastered the art of picking up the pieces, falling in love with the wrong woman (always), and being that friend with benefits or the “meantime guy.”  It may be okay during the first few times, but like everything else, it too gets old.  So after having that episode five years ago with the last woman who I tried to pursue (who eventually took advantage of my attitude and ended up being torn to pieces online), not to mention the woman who I last fell in love with in 2004, I thought to myself that the next woman who I will seriously have feelings for, will be it; that she will be the last great risk I’ll have my battered, pieced-up, and tired heart taking.  I honestly never thought that would ever happen despite me continuing to go through the dating scene.  Or so I thought.

So here I am now in this situation again.  But there’s something different.  Really, really different.  The feelings I have for this woman right now is much more than what I’ve experienced before.  And that makes me more scared and excited at the same time.  More than I can imagine.  She makes me have butterflies in my stomach every time we’re together.  She makes my darkest days disappear whenever I see her.  She is my second wind when I feel exhausted.  And she makes me miss her terribly when we’re apart.  I could honestly say that I have never felt this way before.  But looking at the bigger picture, it won’t likely end well for me.  Again.  It’s the proverbial scenario where I have everything to gain and nothing to lose.  But I guess for me to risk every single one of whatever chips my heart has left, I still have something to lose.  And yet for me to feel this way is something I’m very thankful for.  It made me realize that I still have something left in the realm of giving myself to the one who I know (and if all goes well) will make me very happy and finally break that spell of me being single.  Fate has tested me.  Fate is still testing me.  And I’m calling the bluff.

So what does all that have to do with my month-away birthday?  Simple.  If I could have just one gift, just one; one that afterward, I would promise to never, ever have to ask for anything again, is for things to end up happily between us.  I have shown her who and what I am as a person, and what I am capable of doing for her.  Yes, this is me; here I am, pleading to the universe to conspire to have us end up being together.  I suppose I have done lots of good things to other people in my life over the years (including hers) and that I am hoping for some good luck to come my way at least once.  I know that she is the one for me.  Otherwise, I would not have felt this way.  This is whatever is left of me and my heart, and that I would do anything just to make her happy or see her smile and not make her shed a single tear of sadness or feel an ounce of neglect; that I will always be there for her, support her, fight for her and always be proud of her; and that I’d risk my own dreams being fulfilled just to see hers realized, and give up my own happiness in order for her to be treated the way she deserves to be.

And if I’m still not worthy of such a gift, then at least make her feel everything that I just said with someone who will do exactly the same for her.  And I will still do what I have promised, not to ask for anything again.

Though a party for me without me spending anything would be a nice fallback.  Just kidding.

Of fastfood and radio

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I think it was the great Bruce Lee who said somewhere along the lines that, “goals are not always meant to be reached; sometimes, goals are there so that there is something for you to aim at.” With that in mind, I think the same goes for our dreams. Whether you’ll admit it or not, we all have dreams about being this, or having that–whatever this and that may mean to be. Yes, I’m talking about dreams that are realistic in nature, or the ones that can be reached in one’s lifetime; not the fantasy-type ones that come true only in movies (yes, world peace being one of them). I’m guessing that out of the entire population on this Earth, only about 20 percent have reached or lived at least one of their dreams, whether it was from their childhood or dreams born out of inspiration; and about one to five percent that have two or more that came true. Consider me part of that lucky first group, who at an early age of 20, has lived the dream I had since I was around 9 years old. But more on that later. I wanted to focus more on a dream that came out of the love for music.

Music has played a very big part in my life. I remember the very first cassette album I had as a kid. It was called, “Puff, The Magic Dragon,” a collection of children’s songs (the album name ironically would become a slang for smoking pot, but that’s a different story altogether). I also had Lea Salonga’s very first album, a collection of songs from “Annie,” and in part because she was my childhood crush. And my Dad would always play either Abba, Glen Campbell, Don McLean or John Denver on our stereo during those days or in the car, and I would listen and enjoy it as well.

I got my first taste of listening to the radio when USA for Africa released “We Are The World” in 1985. It was the radio station 92.3 that had this MRS or Most Requested Song segment which played that song every hour, and I would make sure that I’m tuned in every time just to hear it. It was also around that time that I became conscious of the kind of music I listen to. Over time, I would become a regular listener for different radio stations, which, at that time, only played mostly foreign songs before the Pinoy band scene emerged in the 90s.

A childhood friend introduced me to radio station 97.1 LSFM right around 1992. There was this daily noon countdown (Top 20 at 12) he was listening to hosted by a DJ named Triggerman who he found amusing. I was immediately hooked and became an avid listener. I started to think then that playing the most popular and awesome music everyday was so cool. It was also around that year when the station introduced the Campus Aircheck program for college students who wanted to become radio DJs. But I would only learn of that a year later, during my freshman year in college. I was preparing for my mid-term exams when I heard the radio plug for it, calling for would-be aspirants. I got myself a bio-data all filled out, but became disappointed when the submission period turned out to be during my mid-term week. There was no way I could let that interfere with mid-terms (yes, I was still a good boy at that time). So I opted not to go through with it. But I would still be an avid listener of that station. I would also become a regular caller, not of that particular countdown program, but the station’s other programs where the resident DJs would already recognize my voice whenever I’d get through their busy phone lines. They would sometimes let me go on air to do some greetings or introduce the next song. It was that way throughout the first two years of college until I slowly started to drift away from radio to focus my attention on more serious matters.

My first dream came true in 1996 when I started working for McDonald’s while I was still in college. I always thought when I was a kid when our family used to go to McDonald’s, how it would be fun to prepare my favorite burgers, fries, and spaghetti. I would always peek behind the counter to try to see how it all came about. Now that I was working for them during the mornings and attending class during the afternoons, my free time was few and far in between. I hardly listened to the radio during those years. My music preference was experiencing a roller coaster ride of some sorts at that time. After being a metal-head during the early 90s where I even grew my hair long and had it straightened regularly, I started to appreciate ballads and mellow love songs, as well as new wave music. Heavy metal then turned to alternative rock which I still listen to on a regular basis up to this day. I went back to listening to the radio in 1999. 97.1 had already switched to a different format that is not to my liking, so I looked for another one, and eventually found RX93.1. With the rise of the internet during that time, I eventually found the station’s website and signed up for their online mailing list. It proved to be one of the more life-changing things I’ve done as I met a lot of new people who became my friends until today. I also became friends and acquaintances with some of their DJs and would get tickets to the station’s events and parties; all because I am a member of their mailing list. Unfortunately, their Radio1 program (their version of Campus Aircheck) was not suitable for me anymore since I already got my college degree. Yet, I would continue to call the station, go on air to join promos, greet, or request for a song. And that for me, was a taste of somehow being a DJ already. The station would eventually have an audition or two for those outside of college wanting to be their next DJ. I would attend those auditions, but unfortunately, I won’t make the cut. Despite being disappointed, I continued to be a fan of that station, and other radio stations that had good music programming. And that dream of playing the best songs slowly faded into oblivion. In consolation, I just told myself that at least I had one of my dreams come true in my lifetime; and that one out of two ain’t bad.

Until recently. Just last month, I woke up one morning having a dream that involved me wearing a headset and talking on a microphone with a switchboard of some sort in front of me. Turns out, I was hosting some sort of radio show with a female co-DJ. We were both talking with someone on the phone, though I cannot remember what the topic was. I remember that after recalling that dream after waking up, how real it felt. I even posted it on Twitter, but shortly after, reality checked in. I thought that it was nice going through that, despite it being in the dream world. But at my age, I thought that all the best music I’ll be playing will be in the confines of my own house. Then about two weeks ago, one of the stations I listen to, Jam 88.3, started airing a plug saying that they are looking for their next radio superstar. Imagine lights and bells going off inside my head as I heard that plug for the very first time. In addition, the station plays all alternative music, which is up my alley. Within a week, I recorded my voice demo. It took me around 30 takes to get the feel I wanted to convey on that demo. I thought to myself that this would be my final shot at that elusive dream, so it’s all or nothing. I submitted my voice demo this past Monday. I was talking to Mike, who graciously accepted my demo which was in .mp3 format, and I was told that it would take a couple more weeks for them to choose which will make the initial cut. It was also sort of an informal interview as he asked me about my background and music interests. As I left the station, I felt a sense of relief that I really decided to go through with it, even after having some initial dissenting thoughts about it.

What happens in a couple of weeks is anyone’s guess. I know and believe–together with the encouragement and support of friends–that I have what it takes (the voice, eloquence, wit, desire, and love for music) to live that elusive dream. If I do make it all the way, then I’m really considering myself very, very lucky. If I don’t or don’t receive any call from them, I won’t whine about it–I mean, not really. But it’ll be no regrets like how i’ve always lived. What’s important is that I took advantage of the opportunity given and made the most of it. Music will continue to be a big part of me now, tomorrow, until I go six feet under. Yet the dream will always be there. If that dream I had last month was any indication of it coming true, then maybe it’s a sign of things to come. If not, well, at least aiming and going for it was worth it. And like I said, one of two ain’t bad. But it would’ve been real cool though. Real effin’ cool.