Tag Archives: Life

Blindsided

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I was supposed to continue with the story I had going on my last post, but despite having the plot flow going through my head over the last few weeks, I couldn’t seem to structure it to a solid entry. Why? Because things happened this past week that threw me off. Way, way off that I spent the weekend downing an entire bottle of Jack Daniels… by myself.

In any case, I’ll still have that story plot pinned down and will pen it hopefully by next weekend.

But let me just say this: my life experiences made me develop trust issues. And just when I thought being myself and being able to treat others how I want to be treated will make things better, it ultimately let my guard down somehow; and as always, people take advantage. Sometimes, people who I thought would never do.

I’ve never felt so disappointed, betrayed, and frustrated in years. Not to mention being the most alone since the closest people I would’ve run to are either caught up in this, or are too proud to keep in touch after they themselves have somehow did me wrong that they felt that they don’t need to reach out; or worse, they think that I need to reach out to them.

I don’t know what this week will bring, or how the succeeding weeks or months will fare. But let me make one thing clear: I’ve been alive and have endured enough to know what needs to be done. I’ve made a lot of sacrifices against my own personal happiness, and wouldn’t hesitate to do so again for someone I care deeply about; and if that person is threatened, hurt, or maligned in any way, I would jump in in a heartbeat to defend their dignity at my own expense. And believe me when I say: you do not want to make me angry, much less back me into a corner and force my hand to do something you will definitely regret.

Death doesn’t scare or faze me one bit, so there’s nothing one can do to me anything less that would make me cower in fear or give in to pressure. You want to get rid of the best of me? Then you would have to kill me. Literally.

Try me. Test me. Provoke me. I dare you. I fucking double dare you. You’ll either wish you didn’t, or felt so fucking sorry that you made a Karen or Maritess out of yourself for such a petty thing.

Let the week begin.

Short and quick

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There are times when you just can’t seem to understand certain things… no matter how hard you try.

You do what you can, knowing what’s good and what’s not.

You mind and go about your own business, and not mind others’ too much.

You do right by people, care deeply for those dear to you and do what you can to make them feel better or be happy.

You appreciate the little things and value what you’re fortunate enough to have.

You’re generous with your time, and spare whatever resources you have to lend a hand without having a second thought.

And yet… things still happen. Or don’t, depending on your perspective.

You try to smile in the midst of all that, and the cycle repeats itself.

Some get lucky and things change for the better. Most others, not so much.

Until such time that you come to terms with what is and what will be.

I have lost count of how many times I asked myself this question during the course of my life:

“will I ever be enough?”

I have yet to hear an answer of more than two letters.

Whether I hear or find it in this lifetime, or someone can truly answer otherwise for me, only time will tell.

Until then, I do what I can.

Have a good week ahead, everyone.

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.

Hello, old friend

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Some say that in revisiting an old hobby, you’d never know what to expect. It could be scary, especially if you haven’t done it for quite a while and you’re afraid to mess it up or not follow through; it could be therapeutic, if you’re undergoing a lot of stress lately. It could also be overwhelming, if you’re trying too much or too hard; or it could be a re-discovery of yourself when you think or realize you don’t know where you’re headed.

When I was a kid, I loved reading. From the 15 volumes of “Charlie Brown’s ‘Cyclopedia” and the entire 1988 edition of World Book Encyclopedia, to Norton Juster’s “The Phantom Tollbooth” and the “Choose Your Own Adventure” series, reading fueled my imagination. which is as vivid today as it was back then. But as I grew older, reading stories told by other people started to lose its luster. The excitement is still there; but for some reason, reading for me had become more of a way to pass the time idly. I still do read from time to time, but not as much as way back then. I tried to revive reading some years ago. I got the first four books of “Game of Thrones” but never got halfway through the first one. Same with Roland Lazenby’s “Michael Jordan: The Life” (which was actually a gift). It just wasn’t the same.

As I slowly started to lose interest in reading, I tried to find something else to fill the void. By then, I was in college but had no idea where to start. I was always shy around other people during my growing up years (and sometimes, even up until now). I remember one time during an English class when I was called to recite about how we spent our semestral break, I couldn’t get a single word out. I mean, I knew what to say, I just couldn’t put together the words. We were then told to write it down, and I was able to fill an entire sheet of yellow pad paper in minutes. Since then, in answering questions on tests and exams that require an essay, I would almost always lack space in writing them; not to mention running out of time. I then initially thought that I found something I may be good at: writing a paper based on research and explaining material we were asked to read. And that slowly became something I was looking forward to.

I never thought of doing creative writing… until I fell in love. I started writing poems. Of course they were disgustingly cheesy since I was exploring putting unabashed, flying-on-cloud-nine emotions into a literary piece that was trying to make her heart flutter. Yet ironically, what kicked my creative writing into overdrive was when I got my heart broken for the first time, I wrote poem after poem about how I loved her, and the misery I felt in losing her. Some of my friends were able to read those, and the feedback I got was surprisingly positive. They never thought I was capable of poetry. So I continued to write and write. Some of those are immortalized on this blog, you just have to dig deep and find them. But there are those that may have been entirely lost since I wasn’t able to keep a copy of them, especially the first few ones (ugh, damn it).

As I started my professional career, my poetry-writing started to decline. Although I’d still write here and there, I then thought, “what’s next?” The idea of having a journal wasn’t really that appealing to me since at that time, it was an unwritten rule or requirement that you have to write something on a daily basis if you do decide to have one (plus the fact that having a physical journal at home containing your unguarded feelings is not entirely safe from your parents). The internet age was just starting at that time, and little did I know what that had in store for me. It was around early 2004 when the notion of having an online journal hit me. I didn’t know much about going online (okay, except for Friendster), but having a personal computer at home suddenly made me realize that I can digitally save whatever I write since the folks don’t know much about accessing files on a computer. So I started to write based on what I felt at that time. I almost always had no drafts, nor made edits along the way or before I published them; I wrote about topics and subjects free flowingly as they came to mind. I also wrote poems, trying to see if I still can do so. Again, some of them–if not most–are published here.

Since then, I’ve had several incarnations of my blog. Twitter and Facebook introduced me to micro-blogging which then became more effective for me, so I found myself slowly ditching the long-form of blogging. I became so active in Facebook posting whatever comes to mind. From politics, to what I was doing at that moment; to interview (horror) stories and current events. I “quit” Facebook in 2016 after another heartbreak, and, looking back at it now, I’m thankful I did. What started as a social media break eventually turned to a sabbatical, in which stepping away made me see how the world has changed dramatically since that year. And though I had several dances and skirmishes with so-called affairs of the heart since then, it never really rekindled my passion for writing. The few entries I’ve had over the last five years are testament to an attempt to reignite that old passion I had. Some of them are really bad, but I prefer not to delete them just to make me see where I was during those times. I have no regrets posting them (nor have any regrets about anything in my life), since they still came from deep inside. And for me, that’s the most important thing in expressing yourself. Being brutally honest, if need be.

So here I am again. Full circle. Again. I’ve said on previous entries that I’d be posting more often, but end up not doing so. I won’t make that same promise; but the one thing I can do is, whenever I can, to post from the heart… or whatever you call this thing that’s pumping blood through my veins. All I know is that I’m currently going through something. And writing about it may be a form of therapy. When you’re caught in between something you know and something you feel and they are on the opposite sides of the spectrum, but they’re both right, you have one big clusterfuck on your hands. Or maybe it’s just me being a Gemini: having that little angel and devil on my shoulder constantly arguing about who and what’s right. At least I’m writing about it. Or at least some semblance of it. For now, this would have to do.

And as I down my final shot of whisky in concluding this journal entry, I raise this toast that I heard being said somewhere before: “to unspoken words of affection that continue to keep you anchored down, may they one day be set free to discover the possibilities of happiness, or forever be chained in the name of keeping the peace.” Whatever that means.

Good to see you, old friend. Let’s try to make this a regular thing, shall we? Starting with this one.

Happy Easter, everyone.