I told myself before I started this job that this was going to be temporary -- a filler, at least until I figure out what to do with my life. Well it's almost eight months since I've been here and I still haven't figured out what I should really be doing.
To be fair, being here opened up new paths for me and made me rediscover old ones as well. For instance, I realized how much I wanted to teach. (Maybe things like that really do run in the family.) The program is thinking of hiring new people, and it excites me to know that I will be handling that new batch. I haven't done anything formal yet, but being in front of a group of people and sharing things I know is not uncharted territory for me. As a matter of fact, it's a continent I'm willing to explore further. And this new possibility should give me the chance to do just that.
Also recently, someone I did freelance graphics work for months ago contacted me again for a possible new project. I'm not holding my breath for it since I could barely find time to do anything else other than my job now, but I still emailed him back, telling him I'd be willing to work with him again.
Now I took this as a nudge on the cosmos' part to make me buy a new computer -- which I did, just last week. My plans of saving up for a Mac was temporarily shelved, and I jumped into the foray of dual core processors. I geared myself up for serious digital graphic design damage and memory-hogging multimedia applications. Lappie taught me a lot about taking care of the things that are important to me and I am going to take care of this baby.
Speaking of lappie, he's still here, shadowing my new PC. I still use him sometimes, but I informally bequeathed him to my brother and sister. He has played a huge and significant part of my life that I can't even bear the thought of not seeing him anymore. He's here to stay as my best friend, brother, companion, and lover. :')
Sigh... Anyway, apart from teaching and doing graphic arts, I would still like to pursue web design. I can't even remember the last time I've written CSS, but I'm willing to dive into it again. I realize I have a lot of new things to catch up on, but I hope I will have enough time to do so.
And then the two things which I have grown to consider more than mere hobbies -- writing and sketching. I still doodle, and I still write a stanza or two on any piece of paper I can get my reluctant little hands on sometimes... but I feel as if it's not enough. Like I'm holding myself back. Like I've neglected something I still love -- even if that love may seem dormant now -- and broken away from any commitments I made with it in the past. I feel like I should say sorry, and do something to make up for what I did, or did not do.
So now that the cosmos has opened up new doors for me, I should think about which direction I should take the first step to -- like what I did eight months ago. But, as life is wont to do, anything new opened must mean something else must be closed. Moving on has always been a sad choice to make thus far.
Thursday, June 22, 2006
Tuesday, June 13, 2006
Life's Simple Pleasures
Finally gotten around to doing this meme thing from my lovey-dovey. I'm afraid if I put it off any longer, he might deprive me of kissing privileges again. Goddess forbid I'd let that happen. So here goes.
•••
Ten of My Life's Simple Pleasures:
1. Drinking cold cold San Mig Light.
2. Drinking cold cold Mountain Dew.
3. The first minute after the end of a work week.
4. Singing any or all of the following songs in karaoke with friends:
o Bituing Walang Ningning
o Sana'y Wala Nang Wakas
o Total Eclipse of the Heart
o Anything AEGIS
o Anything Spice Girls
5. Live bands in a not-so-crowded but nice enough bar.
6. Poetry readings.
7. Book sales.
8. Blueberry Cheesecake.
9. Dining out.
10. Hugs, kisses, thank yous, I love yous.
1. Drinking cold cold San Mig Light.
2. Drinking cold cold Mountain Dew.
3. The first minute after the end of a work week.
4. Singing any or all of the following songs in karaoke with friends:
o Bituing Walang Ningning
o Sana'y Wala Nang Wakas
o Total Eclipse of the Heart
o Anything AEGIS
o Anything Spice Girls
5. Live bands in a not-so-crowded but nice enough bar.
6. Poetry readings.
7. Book sales.
8. Blueberry Cheesecake.
9. Dining out.
10. Hugs, kisses, thank yous, I love yous.
Monday, June 12, 2006
Cut or Uncut
Someone asked me about my hair and why I don't have it cut. Apart from looking like a nerdy, underfed, pale-skinned straight boy when I'm sporting short hair, growing it has become a promise -- a symbol if you will -- that if I believe in nothing, then at least I can believe I can grow my hair long.
and the whole point of this exercise is to try my
hand at photoshop again, plus a long overdue
camwhoring session
and the whole point of this exercise is to try my
hand at photoshop again, plus a long overdue
camwhoring session
Wednesday, June 07, 2006
When Women Weep
Over the course of four days, four women have cried within my periphery. I do not, in any direct way, affect their lives. But for some cosmic reason, their threads managed to cross mine -- unbidden, but not necessarily unwelcomed.
It was disconcerting, to say the least. And it might appear like the universe is telling me something, like lines in an old movie bubbling their way to the surface of my brain... but to be quite honest, all four of them were crying over the same thing.
NO ONE LISTENS.
Open your ears, everyone. Start listening. You might hear something worth listening to. You might save a life.
It was disconcerting, to say the least. And it might appear like the universe is telling me something, like lines in an old movie bubbling their way to the surface of my brain... but to be quite honest, all four of them were crying over the same thing.
NO ONE LISTENS.
Open your ears, everyone. Start listening. You might hear something worth listening to. You might save a life.
Wednesday, May 24, 2006
To Be Asleep
How is it possible that I am still here? How is it, despite the fact that sometimes, my heart feels like it is slowly being crushed by the weight of planets, that I am still living? What tethers me to this world so violently, enough to keep the life blood in my veins flowing relentlessly against time, fighting for all it's worth but with so little sense of purpose or freedom?
It becomes so unbearable, that pain. So sharp, and piercing, and quick, but driven in too deep that I can feel my organs throbbing against the invading cold, glinting metal, beat per beat.
Without wanting to sound more melodramatic than I am doing so already, I must confess that suicide has always been a shadow, stalking me silently ever since I was fifteen, sixteen. Back then, it was merely a matter of crying for help -- which I have gotten from a lot of the friendships I have made during the time, of which I am eternally grateful. But now, it is inexplicably blinding. I honestly cannot tell what it is borne from, even if most people would believe otherwise.
For now though, I will be keeping myself alive and ignore the incessant malevolence rupturing my heart -- as I have done so in the past. Tomorrow I will wake up beaten, yes, bruised, yes, but still very much alive. Although honestly, I do not mind not waking up anymore.
It becomes so unbearable, that pain. So sharp, and piercing, and quick, but driven in too deep that I can feel my organs throbbing against the invading cold, glinting metal, beat per beat.
Without wanting to sound more melodramatic than I am doing so already, I must confess that suicide has always been a shadow, stalking me silently ever since I was fifteen, sixteen. Back then, it was merely a matter of crying for help -- which I have gotten from a lot of the friendships I have made during the time, of which I am eternally grateful. But now, it is inexplicably blinding. I honestly cannot tell what it is borne from, even if most people would believe otherwise.
For now though, I will be keeping myself alive and ignore the incessant malevolence rupturing my heart -- as I have done so in the past. Tomorrow I will wake up beaten, yes, bruised, yes, but still very much alive. Although honestly, I do not mind not waking up anymore.
Substitute for Love
I was on a bed that wasn't mine, reading a book I had brought with me out of habit. He stepped out of the washroom, wet on his hair and only a white towel on. "Hey," his smile seemed to say.
I returned the smile and went back to my book. The words were marching through my mind, but nothing was really registering. The book was merely a convenient thing to be holding, going through the motions of letting time pass until he was beside me.
Just about the moment when the meaning of the words were starting to sink in, I felt the bed shift on his weight. The blending of soap and his scent filled my senses, and all other things save his name evaporated from my mind. I looked at him and he smiled again. This was what I wanted, I felt myself smiling back. This, when words were not needed anymore. When everything can be communicated through a slight convergence in the air, a minimal shift of muscle.
His face hovered near mine. We kissed, and then he held me to him. He saw the book I was still holding and asked what it was about. "I'm not really sure," I told him. He chuckled -- an odd and merry sound bouncing playfully off the four walls of the room. Another change in the air. Still pleasant.
I set the book down on the bedside table and snuggled under his neck. His skin was still cold from the shower, but I can feel the warmth of his flesh -- how bare, how vulnerable, how human he seems. How real. There was a glimmer of doubt for one second, if everything that was happening was merely a delusion of mine uncanilly molded from a powerful dream, but when I felt his hand stroke my hair, I finally accepted its absolute, inexorable reality.
He lifted my face and kissed me again. We disrobed, and made love in silence. "How much do you love me?" I found myself asking. "This much," he said. "This much... and this... and this..." and on, and on, until we both came. It seemed like lifetimes, and then suddenly it was over. Still, silently over. We laid down again and slept.
I felt the bed shift again. He was getting up, getting dressed. He kissed my forehead, my consciousness eventually converging within the four walls of the room that was not mine. I rubbed the dust of sleep from my eyes, and got my wallet. I handed him two P500 bills. "Thanks," he said. "I'll see you again soon. Txt me."
Shivering from the air conditioning, I pulled on my jacket. "Sure. Thanks." He smiled one last smile, different from the ones he gave me an hour or two ago. I smiled back, also different from the ones I'd given him. He let himself out. I checked my mobile phone for the time. I still have an hour before I had to check out. I went back to sleep.
I returned the smile and went back to my book. The words were marching through my mind, but nothing was really registering. The book was merely a convenient thing to be holding, going through the motions of letting time pass until he was beside me.
Just about the moment when the meaning of the words were starting to sink in, I felt the bed shift on his weight. The blending of soap and his scent filled my senses, and all other things save his name evaporated from my mind. I looked at him and he smiled again. This was what I wanted, I felt myself smiling back. This, when words were not needed anymore. When everything can be communicated through a slight convergence in the air, a minimal shift of muscle.
His face hovered near mine. We kissed, and then he held me to him. He saw the book I was still holding and asked what it was about. "I'm not really sure," I told him. He chuckled -- an odd and merry sound bouncing playfully off the four walls of the room. Another change in the air. Still pleasant.
I set the book down on the bedside table and snuggled under his neck. His skin was still cold from the shower, but I can feel the warmth of his flesh -- how bare, how vulnerable, how human he seems. How real. There was a glimmer of doubt for one second, if everything that was happening was merely a delusion of mine uncanilly molded from a powerful dream, but when I felt his hand stroke my hair, I finally accepted its absolute, inexorable reality.
He lifted my face and kissed me again. We disrobed, and made love in silence. "How much do you love me?" I found myself asking. "This much," he said. "This much... and this... and this..." and on, and on, until we both came. It seemed like lifetimes, and then suddenly it was over. Still, silently over. We laid down again and slept.
I felt the bed shift again. He was getting up, getting dressed. He kissed my forehead, my consciousness eventually converging within the four walls of the room that was not mine. I rubbed the dust of sleep from my eyes, and got my wallet. I handed him two P500 bills. "Thanks," he said. "I'll see you again soon. Txt me."
Shivering from the air conditioning, I pulled on my jacket. "Sure. Thanks." He smiled one last smile, different from the ones he gave me an hour or two ago. I smiled back, also different from the ones I'd given him. He let himself out. I checked my mobile phone for the time. I still have an hour before I had to check out. I went back to sleep.
Tuesday, May 23, 2006
Summerland Doesn't Love Us Anymore
The universe just won't let us live in peace. The moment our program sees signs of settling down, something will come our way to shake up the dust.
After the innocuous event involving our boss and some of our teammates, another storm is brewing -- six of our people will be transferred to another account. This means from the twenty five people we have (excluding two supervisors and two leads), we will be reduced to nineteen.
Management says we're overstaffed. I say NO WE'RE NOT. What with the system latency we have to put up with day after day -- which by the way is another irritating issue with a simple solution but, for some weird reason it almost feels as if there's a conspiracy against us, our IT department doesn't do anything about -- and the occasional random unfortunate event, it's pretty apparent that we are just properly staffed. I can't even pull people out for up-training and coaching we so desperately need!
Sigh. I say it's one of the many desperate measures management has been making recently just to cut corners. I doubt transferring people would help though. Our group is very small, and people have already expressed intent on resigning if ever they get chosen to be transferred. Bad move for management. No one wins.
And even I, who normally wouldn't even spare half a glance -- let alone complain -- towards such things involving finances, am being affected by their decisions. I am doing the job of a Lead Agent, QA, and Trainer, and still I'm earning the salary of an agent, give or take a thousand pesos. They even had the gall to mark me down as being absent for one day and then being late for three hours on my payslip when here I am, going to work four-fucking-hours early almost everyday the past week just to finish the GODDAMNED UPTRAINING I AM NOT ABLE TO DO BECAUSE I CAN'T PULL PEOPLE OUT, WHY? Oh right. THE IRRITATING SYSTEM LATENCY OUR IT DEPARTMENT DOESN'T DO JACK SHIT ABOUT!
WHERE IS THE LOVE, PEOPLE?!?!
After the innocuous event involving our boss and some of our teammates, another storm is brewing -- six of our people will be transferred to another account. This means from the twenty five people we have (excluding two supervisors and two leads), we will be reduced to nineteen.
Management says we're overstaffed. I say NO WE'RE NOT. What with the system latency we have to put up with day after day -- which by the way is another irritating issue with a simple solution but, for some weird reason it almost feels as if there's a conspiracy against us, our IT department doesn't do anything about -- and the occasional random unfortunate event, it's pretty apparent that we are just properly staffed. I can't even pull people out for up-training and coaching we so desperately need!
Sigh. I say it's one of the many desperate measures management has been making recently just to cut corners. I doubt transferring people would help though. Our group is very small, and people have already expressed intent on resigning if ever they get chosen to be transferred. Bad move for management. No one wins.
And even I, who normally wouldn't even spare half a glance -- let alone complain -- towards such things involving finances, am being affected by their decisions. I am doing the job of a Lead Agent, QA, and Trainer, and still I'm earning the salary of an agent, give or take a thousand pesos. They even had the gall to mark me down as being absent for one day and then being late for three hours on my payslip when here I am, going to work four-fucking-hours early almost everyday the past week just to finish the GODDAMNED UPTRAINING I AM NOT ABLE TO DO BECAUSE I CAN'T PULL PEOPLE OUT, WHY? Oh right. THE IRRITATING SYSTEM LATENCY OUR IT DEPARTMENT DOESN'T DO JACK SHIT ABOUT!
WHERE IS THE LOVE, PEOPLE?!?!
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
Still Running
I couldn't shake away the feeling -- the uncertainty -- whether I'm running towards something or running away from something. This limbo is going on longer than I'd anticipated. No sight of the great white light yet.
So tomorrow's another day. Still running. Still running.
So tomorrow's another day. Still running. Still running.
Tuesday, April 18, 2006
Eve of the 19th
A universe of things happening tomorrow: my demo to the head of the another department at work, Harold leaving for Dubai (or was it Riyadh?), Hono'o-chan's birthday -- the reality of each refusing to sink in just yet.
•••
I still haven't started drafting my presentation, even if I knew about it for a week already. Seems when it comes to things like these, I revert to my usual college habits. I hope I'd be able to talk my way through with what I can work with. If not, well, it's no big deal. Not for me at least.
Our program doesn't need a dedicated trainer, I plan to tell the department head. No need to waste company resources on a relatively small account which can stand on its own and just ask for help when absolutely needed. Staying with ops as a Lead and functioning only as a trainer when needed is more practical.
Besides, all this position-hopping is not doing any good for my mental health. I'm not even a regular employee yet and I've done more leaps than Super Mario on mushrooms. Now I don't want to sound ungrateful, and I sincerely appreciate what the company has given, but honestly, I would be just as happy being an ordinary agent. Happier even, since it's closer to the Zen-ordinariness which I so crave. But who am I to fight when the cosmos thinks otherwise.
•••
I txted Harold this afternoon. I'm really glad his trip is pushing through. We haven't talked about it much when we were together, basically because it was just a passing thought back then. But now that it's really happening... I don't know what to feel. It's unfamiliar, but pleasant. All I know is I have a gut feeling Harold will be happy when he gets to where he's going.
•••
And then there's Hono'o-chan...
I still haven't started drafting my presentation, even if I knew about it for a week already. Seems when it comes to things like these, I revert to my usual college habits. I hope I'd be able to talk my way through with what I can work with. If not, well, it's no big deal. Not for me at least.
Our program doesn't need a dedicated trainer, I plan to tell the department head. No need to waste company resources on a relatively small account which can stand on its own and just ask for help when absolutely needed. Staying with ops as a Lead and functioning only as a trainer when needed is more practical.
Besides, all this position-hopping is not doing any good for my mental health. I'm not even a regular employee yet and I've done more leaps than Super Mario on mushrooms. Now I don't want to sound ungrateful, and I sincerely appreciate what the company has given, but honestly, I would be just as happy being an ordinary agent. Happier even, since it's closer to the Zen-ordinariness which I so crave. But who am I to fight when the cosmos thinks otherwise.
I txted Harold this afternoon. I'm really glad his trip is pushing through. We haven't talked about it much when we were together, basically because it was just a passing thought back then. But now that it's really happening... I don't know what to feel. It's unfamiliar, but pleasant. All I know is I have a gut feeling Harold will be happy when he gets to where he's going.
And then there's Hono'o-chan...
Monday, April 10, 2006
Weathering the Storm
A little disappointed this part wasn't in the movie:
It really hit close to home. Too bad recently I've been a little apprehensive referring to work as a temporary sanctuary. Past few days, a lot of things are happening -- specifically very murky office politics -- which are proving to be very difficult territories to wade through.
Regardless whether both sides have valid arguments, it's still undeniably a dirty affair and I'd rather have nothing to do with it. Which I don't, as a matter of fact, but with an account as small as ours, even the innocent ones feel the wave, and little earthquakes in between are unavoidable.
I called a meeting for my team before the shift ended tonight, told them to try and weather what's happening, and to not get involved anymore. If things go well, we can expect minimal turbulence at most. Otherwise, I will have to force myself step up and see what I can do about it.
Sigh. Honestly I just want a normal, ordinary job. Why can't one collective of minds just get along while going the same direction? But I think we all know the answer to that already. It's just that with a group as small as ours, it shouldn't be that difficult getting along, right?
Princess Serenity is right. Life is not a Great Game, but a Great Dance. Still, there are people who'd rather experience life as a Game. And I can't hold it against them either.
ROGER: "Mark has got his work," they say "Mark lives for his work," and "Mark's in love with his work." MARK HIDES IN HIS WORK.
MARK: From what?!
ROGER: From facing your failure, facing your loneliness, facing the fact you live a lie. Yes, you live a lie! Tell you why -- you're always preaching not to be numb, when that's how you thrive. You pretend to create and observe when you're really detached from feeling alive.
It really hit close to home. Too bad recently I've been a little apprehensive referring to work as a temporary sanctuary. Past few days, a lot of things are happening -- specifically very murky office politics -- which are proving to be very difficult territories to wade through.
Regardless whether both sides have valid arguments, it's still undeniably a dirty affair and I'd rather have nothing to do with it. Which I don't, as a matter of fact, but with an account as small as ours, even the innocent ones feel the wave, and little earthquakes in between are unavoidable.
I called a meeting for my team before the shift ended tonight, told them to try and weather what's happening, and to not get involved anymore. If things go well, we can expect minimal turbulence at most. Otherwise, I will have to force myself step up and see what I can do about it.
Sigh. Honestly I just want a normal, ordinary job. Why can't one collective of minds just get along while going the same direction? But I think we all know the answer to that already. It's just that with a group as small as ours, it shouldn't be that difficult getting along, right?
Princess Serenity is right. Life is not a Great Game, but a Great Dance. Still, there are people who'd rather experience life as a Game. And I can't hold it against them either.