Creatives & connections

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To end my four-day holiday weekend, I was in the middle of writing a story when I suddenly hit a brick wall. I couldn’t creatively continue, or was not quite satisfied with the direction the story was going despite knowing what the plot was. And to think that I’ve had that plot running through my head since the beginning of last week. I did save it as a draft though; but based from experience, me saving drafts of what should be blog entries would never end up seeing the light of day (hence I don’t do drafts).

I then remembered something I saw on Instagram during breakfast today that woke me up better than the mug of coffee I was having. It was posted by none other than Miss Lea Salonga (my childhood crush, who I still have the same up to this very day), and it spoke about creative people. And I guess it directly reflects what happened as I was writing earlier. Allow me to share that here:

“Artists are not like athletes. We cannot win gold. We cannot ‘beat’ other creatives. We cannot come first. Sport is objective. Our craft is subjective. Creating (something) to ‘be the best’ is a waste of energy. Instead, create to connect to the people who need you. Because they’re out there. Create in your way, because there is no right way. Take the pressure off, and focus on your unique brand of magic.”

A lot of people have told me to make money off my blog. Or to be a writer (or at least a contributing writer). And I tell them the same thing time and again: I do not like to be bound or pressured by deadlines with the stuff I write or want to write. I won’t be able to write or create something that’s time-bound. It’s just not me. I write when I feel like it, not when I have to or out of necessity. If you’re thinking of telling me, “then how come it works for others? Maybe you’re just not trying hard enough,” then please don’t tell that to me in person. Not if you want to continue breathing; figuratively speaking. First off, I’m not “them,” and I go back to what I said earlier about me and deadlines. Secondly, I’m at the point in my life that I don’t care what other people think of me personally, or my blog. If you like the stuff I write, thank you. If not, I couldn’t care less and will still sleep soundly. So by them “forcing” me on how to do my hobby is an imprint of my size 10.5 foot on their face waiting to happen. Again, figuratively speaking.

Does that mean what I write is not open to be critiqued? No, by all means, go for it. I even encourage comments. I provide my own comments and opinions to others’ written work too when I feel like it. But here’s the thing with those: they’re subjective as well. The writer, author, or creator should never, ever be personally bound by those comments. What I’m seeing nowadays is creatives are easily getting influenced by the audience through comments. And it’s sad when a good writer starts off well, but changes the style because those who see their work “suggest” to do so in order to be more “well-accepted.” The second half of the above-mentioned quote has been my guiding principle when I write. My entries don’t suit you? Then you’re not my audience. Don’t tell me to change my writing style just so a group or majority can relate to it, or be more “mainstream.”

In closing, I’d like to continue focusing on that second half of the quote. Like sport, majority of what we do these days is purely objective. And there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. What does, though, is focusing on it way too much that it’s taking away our connections with people; sometimes even those close to us or who we care about. Covid has already done a masterful job of severing human personal interaction, so why add to it? It’s not about lessening the objectives or objectivity; there will always be solutions to that. But people need people, now more than ever. Improve your human connections. You may not always eye to eye with each other on certain things, but remember that there’s always agreeing to disagree; and more importantly, respecting one’s perspective.

I write the things I write because it’s an expression and extension of who I am; and I know there are individuals out there in the world–no matter how little in number–who can relate. I may not know them, but through what I write, connections can be established. It may not be personal, but just having that connection is enough. And I value that pretty highly. Would I be wrong in saying that it’s probably what the world needs to start valuing that in the same light? I leave it up to you.

It’s now four minutes before September begins. Here in the Philippines, that only means one thing. No, it’s not related to that Green Day song.

Have a good month ahead, everyone.

Searching (in more ways than one)

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Disclaimer: this entry may end up as an incoherent rambling on my part as I type what’s exactly on my mind the moment I come up with it (like I always do whenever I write my entries). This is probably more personal than anything I’ve ever written (from my recollection). I just need to get this off, so don’t expect any structure in what I’m about to say. I’ve had no alcohol as well since I was told to not consume any for seven days after getting my first vaccine dose (alcohol while I’m writing makes my train of thought go smoothly, or so I’ve recently discovered). So, don’t say I didn’t warn you.

About a few weeks ago, my colleagues and I had a session about “finding your why’s” where we shared our life experiences. The objective was for each one to know more about the other’s personalities; why we are the way we are, and basically, why we work in a certain style or manner. And for us to really understand our own selves and therefore be able to fully come to terms with the reason(s) why we are here, we had to go back to the beginning. Literally. Because what one may see as different or separate life events that we go through, they are actually connected; not by time, but subconsciously through our actions as we go through those events.

In going through that retrospective (which wasn’t easy, by the way), I was able to unearth things that I thought I’ve long forgotten, both good and bad (more of the latter). By carefully going through each phase in my life, it’s like re-living the past and seeing what my actions have done to shape the life I’m living now. Does that mean I have misgivings or regrets about the bad decisions I’ve made? No, not one bit. Does that mean I have learned from my mistakes? Yes and no. “No” because there still are that I continue to make for some reason (don’t we all?). All of my colleagues who had their turn to share their life experiences were able to find their why’s and put it in a statement (which could therefore be synonymous with “life purpose”). Being the most senior member of the management team with the most life experiences, you’d think I’d have one too, right?

No.

Which actually surprised me. And at the same time, had me at a loss. To think I’ve been carrying that around for weeks now, trying to figure out–no pun intended–why? Even now as I write this, there’s that void somewhere in the recesses of my head where I should have that “why” or purpose wherein I could be able to go and check to remind myself each and every day. But there isn’t. And as I continue to write this, I don’t see myself any closer to finding it out.

Those who know me well can say that I am the personification of a Gemini. And those who know me too well can say what one side of the twin has made me done in life or what it can be capable of doing; same goes with the other side. I am by no means a saint. and I don’t claim myself to be a fiend either. There’s that endless battle between that angel and demon on my shoulders. Due to my upbringing, the angel has more victories, and continues to have the upper hand. But whatever wins the demon has, have created such an impact that it eats up probably around four or five angel wins. And yet, there are those few and far in-between times that both of them either call a truce, or actually agree on something. Why am I saying this? Because it’s a huge part of who I am. And maybe by affirming that, I can probably be one step closer to what I’m trying to find out. Maybe.

Now, imagine an introvert who actually enjoys working with people. That’s me too. From my very first job to where I am now, it’s always dealing with people. Whether it be customers, colleagues, or even the other workers in a company, I never thought I would actually be comfortable in a people-oriented setting. To think I was very shy growing up and uneasy being in groups of people. I never raised my hand in class recitations, or volunteered for show-and-tell. And when I do get selected, I’d always have stage fright. Up until now, I still get an uncomfortable feeling talking up on stage in front of a crowd when asked to despite coming off as articulate or well-prepared (I’d rather not be on that stage at all). Maybe that’s why I wanted to become a radio DJ since they’re by themselves just playing music, and even though they talk to people, it’s not in front of them. And yet, people are essential in my current line of work. Now one would think that while I’ve been living by myself for more than two years now and working from home for almost more than a year and a half, I should be enjoying this, right? Well, it’s quite the opposite as I miss the personal interaction with my team members and colleagues. Weird, right? Go back to the previous paragraph of being a Gemini. This applies to that as well.

Here comes probably the saddest or most personal part of my retrospective-slash-realization: I’m either demotivated or uninspired. Maybe both. Why? You tell me. Maybe the whole work-from-home setup is just too damn long. Not that I want to go back to working in the office right now, but I’ve always said that for me to maintain a healthy balance, I have to separate work from life. Pre-pandemic, that only means I drive to the office, put on my work hat and work my ass off. Once work is done, I take my work hat off, drive out of the office and have a life (however and whatever that may be) and not even think about work. Setting and atmosphere are huge essentials in having balance. These days, my work laptop being strictly out of sight on weekends just doesn’t work anymore even though I still put it away. And yet, I still need to work because my teams depend on me. And they are great people to work with. Outside of that, I’m in my mid-40s with no personal future in sight. I’ve long accepted the fact that I’ll probably die alone (seriously), yet there are times where I’d imagine what my life would be right now if I had someone. Most likely, it would be a lot different. Hell, I wouldn’t be writing this entry right now, that’s for sure. I often ask myself these two questions: “is there something wrong with me?” and “will I ever be enough?” When it comes to relationships, the one thing that I can truly say that I am good and proud of, is taking care of someone. What about incompatibility, you ask? Well, Geminis are known to work extremely hard to make relationships work, doing whatever they can. Particularly this Gemini. Yet no one is taking a chance on me. At least, no one who I wanted or loved. They all bailed saying, “I’m too good for them,” or something like that. And don’t tell me to settle for someone or play matchmaker just for me to get someone and be with someone. It just doesn’t work that way for me. I should probably get a dog instead.

Only time will tell if all that I’ve said here will help me, or bury me even further. The angel and demon both agree that doing this was right though. It’s just a matter of who will probably benefit the most. Going back to that sharing session, I ultimately said that I’m still finding my why; but what matters to me right now are the people I work with, the people closest to me, and the connections and relationships I have with them. They’re the ones helping my sanity stay delicately intact right now. To think a new work week is about to start and I still have pending items. I’ll be needing all the luck in the world–and beyond–for that.

In closing, let me leave everyone with two quotes that I’ve been keeping in mind often. They’re not my personal whys in any shape or form, but it’s something I could always draw something from. These two could probably sum up what kind of person I am. The first one goes,

“it’s nice to be important, but it’s more important to be nice.”

That, in a nutshell, speaks to me of humility in everything. Second one is,

“a person’s greatest emotional need is to feel appreciated.”

No explanation there; hence I always try to take care of people, especially those I care deeply about, the only way I know how. Even though they don’t necessarily do the same for me.

Have a good week ahead, everyone.

Time

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He peered through the window as he turned off the TV. His eyes darted around, watching the flurry of activity outside. It had just stopped raining as the room gradually fell silent. It’s as if the volume was on mute as he saw cars going by, people walking around, and building lights flicker. Clouds now partly covered the full moon as it gave off a weak, yet distinct radiant glow beneath it. He then leaned back, closed his eyes and let out a slow sigh.

The opening of the door broke the silence as his friend came in. He still lay there, motionless as his friend stopped suddenly upon seeing him. The awkward resumption of silence was only interrupted by his sudden burst of laughter, when he could not contain it any longer. “Just shut the door, will ‘ya?,” he added, still laughing. His friend joined in the laughter as he closed the door using a foot, as both hands were holding plastic bags.

“I thought you were–” the friend started to talk as he continued to go inside.

“Nah, I just finished something on Netflix,” was his quick interruption.

“Oh, what’d you watch?” the friend asked.

“Serendipity. Before that, Notting Hill,” was his reply. He then asked, “what in the hell took you so long?”

“In case you haven’t noticed, it was pouring out. I didn’t have an umbrella with me, so I had to wait it out. Do you really want me to get drenched?” the friend laughingly asked as he was thrown a small bag.

He tried to shield himself playfully as the bag came flying to him. “Seriously? Yes,” he replied laughing. “No, no, no, seriously? Absolutely!” More laughter ensued.

“What did you get me?,” he then asked as he tried to settle down. “See for yourself,” the friend said in reply. “Nah, I know it’s all good. Thank you,” he said back, clutching the bag.

His friend pulled up a chair beside him. He looked back at the window and saw that the clouds had parted; and the moon was as bright as ever. As his friend was going through some of the other items in the second bag, he asked, “do you have any regrets?”

“What? What are you talking about?” came the friend’s reply.

“You heard me. Do you have any regrets?”

His friend was a bit flustered coming up with an answer. “Yeah, I guess, maybe a few,” was the stammered answer that came out. And then added, “c’mon, you know me and my story. I’d suppose you know whether or not the things I did or did not are… the kind of ones I would regret.”

He gave a wry smile and nodded as his friend was talking. At that moment, his mind was racing through different things he’d done. Some good, some not. “How about you? Any regrets?,” he was then asked.

“Me? Nah,” was the quick answer. He then continued, “I never fully understood the concept of having regrets. I mean, sure, you can be sorry for some of the things you did or did not do. But to have that feeling of deep down inside, wishing you either did not do this or did that; to the point that it eats you up inside? Whatever the action was, it already happened. You can’t change it, or even go back in time to change it. All you can do is move on, live with it and learn from it. Having regrets is like slapping a teacher in the face for trying to give you a lesson you needed to learn. Or at least that’s how I see it.”

After a brief silence, he slid back, his mind deep in thought. He went on, “I’m not perfect. No one is. I was raised well enough to know good from bad, to trust my instincts, draw from experience, and follow what my heart says. You know that, right?,” he asked as he looked at this friend in the eye.

His friend gave a slow nod. As a witness to most of his life’s exploits, what he went through was stuff movies are made of. His friend would always say, “you can’t write this shit up,” as he told almost every life-experience he had. Especially the trying ones.

“I mean, c’mon, there’s gotta be something that’s… well… there must be at least one thing, at least one, that should I say, come close to being a regret, isn’t there?,” the friend asked.

He gave a heavy sigh as he tried to think. He thought long and hard, went back through some of the most ugly, embarrassing, painful, and even the fucked up experiences he’s had. “No, nothing,” came the reply. “I suppose I’m not built that way,” he added.

“How about not telling her?,” his friend then asked.

“Wait, what? Her? Why would I tell her?,” he asked back.

“Because that’s what you need to do. Or, rather, needed.”

“Look, we’ve been over this several times. Yes, I do need to tell her. But the right thing to do is to not tell her. There’s just too much at stake. Besides, you and I both know that nothing–and I mean absolutely nothing–will ever come out of it. I’m not the type of guy she wants,” he said in frustration.

“How do you even know that? You told me the things she’s looking for in a guy, and you have almost everything, especially the major ones that are the deal-sealers. So what do you mean you’re not the type of guy for her?,” the friend asked back in frustration.

“Look, having what you want in a person is one thing. Being attracted to the person who has what you want is a completely different story. And I’m the completely different story with the ending that comes up short.”

“How can you know for sure if you don’t tell her?”

“And risk turning something that we have into completely nothing with me wondering why? Listen, I’ve been in one too many of these scenarios to know better. And this, this is something that I don’t need to see through. I… I just won’t be able to handle it if I tell her and things go south. No… I’ve bled and cried enough times. Never again,” he ended as a tear ran down his cheek.

Silence fell into the room. His friend leaned back at the chair and looked at him as he tried to make himself more comfortable. Right then, the rain started to fall again. What was awkward silence was suddenly filled with the sound of water drops pelting the window.

“Do you think she knows?,” he then asked, breaking the uneasiness. “Or at least has an idea?”

“It’s kinda hard to tell, to be honest,” his friend replied. “I mean, you’ve always been there for her, you get along well, she trusts you, she’s probably comfortable being around you… I mean… who knows… Maybe?,” added the friend.

“I can settle with ‘maybe,'” he said back. “At least I’ve done right by her, put her interests first, and not really aiming something for myself, you know? I suppose that’s enough.” He added, “if only I had enough time…” and trailed off as he became lost in thought and started to become drowsy.

His friend tried to catch his attention by asking, “hey, what do you think she’s doing right now?”

He slowly looked back at his friend, saying, “her? Really?” The friend nodded in agreement.

“Probably fucking the brains out of some guy,” he answered, laughing sheepishly as exhaustion crept up. “You really can’t keep her out any conversation we have, can you?,” he asked.

“I’m your friend. You know I’ll always mess with you; especially when it comes to her,” replied the friend.

“Remember that,” he said back, his eyes slowly blinking as he tried to stay awake. “And you know what to do,” he added as he straightened his head. “She was something though, right?,” he asked, struggling to finish the question.

“Indeed she was,” replied the friend.

He raised his shoulder a bit and went back down, trying to fix his posture. In a slow, slurred manner, he said, “yep, she was. But maybe not as fascinating as her. Not by a long shot. Maybe.”

He tried to look back at his friend, saying, “could you do me a favor?,” he asked as he exhaled.

“Okay,” the friend replied, wiith head bowed down.

Silence followed as the rain stopped again. Suddenly, the door opened and a woman hurriedly came in, dripping wet from the rain. His friend, teary-eyed, looked up with disappointment at the woman.

“You’re too late. He’s gone.”

The Girl Who Broke Me (a.k.a the greatest love I never got to have) (Part II)

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The last time I wrote about you, I was coming from a place of hurt and anguish. I needed to get that out, believing it was the right thing to do. And in some aspects, it was. I never really expressed that kind of anger before; or maybe I wasn’t really good at it. But yes, writing that piece somehow gave me that sense of closure I longed for. Something that I thought can be obtained by a decent conversation between us. But for some reason, you never wanted any part of it believing it was a non-issue. So I wrote what I wrote despite significant time having passed of us not communicating. A small part of me still thinks it wasn’t necessary, but that doesn’t mean I have regrets. And I honestly thought that would be the very last one… until today.

Early this morning, I unexpectedly found out something about you. I was shocked, to tell you the truth. And during the first minute upon seeing that, it felt heavy and numb inside at the same time. I guess it was just a matter of time, but I never imagined it to happen so soon; especially after the last time we saw each other four months ago where I thought there was a chance for us. But who am I kidding, right? You never changed. You treated me the same all those years ago, and despite the distance I tried hard to keep from you for close to three years, somehow, you managed to find your way and tug at my strings again at the beginning of this year. I was foolish to think that somehow you’ve changed and probably realized what you were missing out. And just after about a month, it was like 2013 to 2016 all over again.

Yet somehow, despite the numbness and shock I first felt when I saw what I saw, I tried to remember how I felt when I saw the same thing happen to you twice before. And I realized that this one didn’t hurt as much back then. Maybe because I had probably finally given up on the thought of us after what happened early this year. That despite in some small way and me hoping against the tiniest hope that you’d come around and see how great we can be together, nothing will ever come out of it.

In exasperation, I surprisingly turned to the man upstairs. I know I haven’t had a good relationship with him over the last couple of years, yet I found myself uttering these words: “it’s all up to you. Please take good care of her. You know how she’s the love of my life and how I felt–how I still feel–about her. I only wish and hope that she gets the happiness that I know I could have given her, if not more. Please, just let her be finally happy… even at my own expense.” With how he probably hates my guts right now, I’m pretty sure that my words were clearly heard and will be acted upon. Instantly.

In what was probably an added insult to injury (or probably a bad joke of fate), this morning’s road trip took me to somewhere the two of us frequented before, upon the unwitting suggestion of a friend. Most of the drive was all too familiar, and had me reminiscing those precious and unforgettable times we took those trips there. Probably it’s fate’s way of performing another closure for me. And I really hope that this time, there’d be no more cracks because I’m just too fucking tired of playing that game. Yes, that same game even though I’m having an eye for someone right now. It just won’t happen because that person will never take a chance on me in spite of, well, everything I’ve done.

So on my sixth shot of whisky (or probably seventh? I lost count while conjuring up the will to write this–good thing I don’t have work tomorrow) and third bottle of beer, I raise a toast to her (and I sincerely mean this, by the way): it doesn’t matter what you did to me, or didn’t because nothing could now change those anyway. To your happiness. May it be the one that warms your heart and soul everyday; may it make you constantly beam that smile and melt him the way it has always melted me whenever I see it; may it make you feel secure and not having an ounce of doubt; and may it radiate upon you always so that you’ll never shed a single tear of sadness. This is the happiness I want for you. May it last.

Have a good week ahead, everyone.

Midyear Feels

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I was talking to a friend a little over a week ago. It’s been a while since we last spoke, and spent probably half the entire time catching up over what has been going on in our own lives since the pandemic started. We’ve both been lucky to survive thus far and doing fairly well in our respective careers; though I’ve always admired the resilience this person has in the midst of what came their way, and I tend to draw inspiration whenever similar things happen to me. And just like me, this person has been single for quite a while, so naturally, the conversation shifted to the matters of the heart.

“You’ve had experience in this area,” the friend started off. Then came the swing: “so what do you do when you fall for someone you know can’t be yours?” I was quite dumbfounded with the question. “Well, I can’t answer that thoroughly unless you provide me some context,” I answered after what seemed to me like a half-minute of silence.

Turns out, my friend has fallen for a colleague. “Is it your boss? Your peer? Or one of your directs?” I prodded. “Does it matter?” The friend replied. “I sure as hell know you’ve experienced falling for each one at separate points in time, right? Right?” came the pressing question. I suddenly got that sinking feeling in my stomach. Friend was right. Over my colorful professional life, I’ve had my fair share of attempting to mix business with pleasure. Keyword: attempt. And at that moment, all of those memories flashed back right in front of my eyes.

“Yes, I did; and I handled all of them in different ways. But, one thing was the same for all three of them: the result. You remember me telling you those, right?” I told the friend with a sigh. “Oh, yeah,” came the reply. “And how did it come about?” I asked. “Not good. Not good at all,” was the answer back.

I felt the tone of sadness that came with that answer and sensed deflation in the sigh that followed afterward. “Look, each person is different. Maybe what happened to me may not happen with you, so you’ll never know,” was my follow up, trying to give some sense of friendly assurance. “So c’mon, tell me everything.”

My friend laid out the whole story and current situation to me for about a little over five minutes with me intently listening. I found some similarities in some of the bits and pieces of the story in each of the experiences I’ve had, so I can definitely relate. Understanding that my friend knows I write on my blog; and knowing I sometimes use conversations as material, out of respect, I promised not to elaborate or tell that story here. But I definitely felt the predicament my friend was going through as the story ended up to where they are now.

“So, what do you think? Or more importantly, what should I do?” The exasperation in my friend’s voice was very telling. I could tell that the feeling for that colleague was deep, but not that deep. Yet. Recalling some of the things I did and didn’t do in the situations I experienced, it was hard to come up with a straight answer. Yet my friend appreciated the honesty and directness I was able to provide, quipping, “as you always do.” Our conversation ended with the promise of getting together over a meal and some drinks once curfew hours start later than when they do currently.

So what did I tell my friend?

We’ve always been told that “love conquers all.” Whether it be in books, songs, TV series, movies, and some real-life stories, the power of love can and will prevail against all odds, professionalism included. But the reality is, not always. No matter how sincere and pure our intentions are, or how you think you’re destined to be together, or how “it just feels right, like a hand to a glove,” not all people ride off happily ever after. In this particular setting, I don’t know what needs to be done. I’ve taken the risk of coming clean, and got my heart broken. I’ve also opted to stay in the sidelines, and got my heart broken too. So you may ask, which then, is the lesser of the two? Definitely loving the person from afar. You do what you can without going overboard. You do the little things that make the person happy, you savor every conversation you have, time seemingly stands still whenever you pass by one another, and there will be times when you have to stop yourself from messaging the person, even if it’s just small talk. You condition yourself and your mind that what you do from a distance is enough. You catch yourself lovingly staring at the person, knowing that’s all you can do because you’ll risk losing everything if you cross the barrier. And you must always ask yourself from a practical standpoint, “is it really worth the risk?” 9 times out of 10, the answer is no. Because sometimes, loving a person is putting respect of the current situation front and center before your own emotions. That’s probably the most selfless thing you can do. And if that doesn’t portray what true love is, then I don’t know what does.

There. No wonder unrequited love is my forte.

Have a good week ahead, everyone.