Thursday, August 28, 2008

On Being Sick

As of writing, I recently just recovered from a nasty bout with colds after days of suffering with clogged nostrils and blowing snot all over fresh rolls of tissue paper. If there's one thing that I don't like besides that lame radio jingle of GIS Express, it's having colds. No, scratch that. I HATE getting sick. Maybe I didn't mind when I was a kid so I can stay at home and play the SNES or the Playstation until I get sicker (hehe). However, when you're focused on earning money to pay for the bills and sustain a particular lifestyle, getting sick is not even an option. It throws you off your groove and makes you cranky the whole time, which is pretty much a bummer. No, scratch that yet again. Getting sick FUCKING SUCKS.

Anyway, before the post-sickness stress takes its course, I was able to maintain my sanity throughout the sick week with a dose of laughter. It all started with the entry of my former co-worker to the company I currently am working for. She's not just a co-worker, but she allows me to relieve stress by being funny without even trying. See just sits there, does her work, and it's already funny! I shit you not, my friend. Seriously through, it's actually a good thing that I have someone to communicate to with any way or method. My time in the office, in terms of socializing, is as interesting as watching cows consume grass. In other words, my anti-social tendencies and my Person Repellant quality ingrained in my DNA are taking full effect. With my former co-worker in the fold, the silent dynamics change, something that I welcome with open arms.

Also, more adventures have occurred on my way home from work. If the constant bickering and fighting between passengers are not enough, I boarded a bus with a lonely trobadour at the back singing cheeky songs straight from sleaziest bar you can think of. So he's singing songs and belting out the big notes without care of the irritation and inconvenience he is causing to the other passengers. Either that guy lost it, or he has cojones bigger than his voice. Another incident with a strange passenger happened when I sat beside a seemingly innocent girl who obvious came from the office. The bus was showing Scary Movie (a good film) and the girl immediately busted out laughing when the scene with a huge man posing as a lesbian high school gym teacher flashed her balls. The raging laughter ensued with the other countless funny scenes, as the whole bus was staring at her. And she's still laughing. To her credit, she made the film funnier.

So where was I? Oh, yeah. I'm not sick anymore.

Wednesday, August 13, 2008

On Going Home

It's been a busy month for this working student. For those who don't know, I attend morning classes during Tuesdays and Thursdays before taking an hour-long travel to the office via car and bus. After arriving at work, I am immediately swamped with duties of editing documents about things I don't have any clue what it's about and don't have any intention to know. By the time I get back to the house late in the evening, all I want to do is take it easy as reward for a job well done today. However, I still have to catch up with the assigned readings for my Literature class.

This grueling schedule won't let up until the middle of October, when the academic semester gasps its final breaths. For now, I live by the mounting pressure of walking the thin line between order and chaos. It's not the easiest life in the world, mind you, but I wouldn't have it any other way.

If there's any consolation to this madness, the smoke-filled and heat-laden journey home is something I thoroughly enjoy.

There's nothing much to take pleasure from riding sloth-like buses in the metro as it slowly treks the highway, stopping in the middle of the road and scouring for more passengers, before riding two separate jeepneys (a trademark Filipino public transportation) on my way home. However, I have encountered a number of occasions where riding PUVs is much more interesting than driving a flashy automobile and head straight to the destination. Whereas driving a car is simply taking the straightforward route, riding public vehicles is akin to making complicated turns and encumbering stop before reaching the place. True, the latter is pretty silly and borderline stupid, but it does not fail to entertain.

The entertaining part of the trek back home, although it doesn't happen always, is the fighting engaged by passengers on the PUVs or people along the street. One time, I got to see hostile jacktards stuck together on the jeep I was also riding who were about to slug it out because one of them intentionally kicked the ass of the other riding the transportation. Unfortunately, just like real jacktards, they only exchanged menacing stares without laying a finger on each other. Lame.

Lately, while the jeep I was riding was put to a stop by the red lights, I witnessed a pair of dudes ganging up on a simpleton. The victim managed to break free from the headlock and immediately boarded our jeep wearing a disconcerted face. He told one of the passengers that he was simply walking along the street before both men lunged at him for the attack. Whether or not the debacle was all a stage to steal money I dare not ask, but it was the most glorious 2:30 AM ever.

More adventures in the future, perhaps?

Friday, August 8, 2008

On Quotable Quotes

To begin, I remember hearing a rather weird quote from a talk show program in the early '90s of a particular radio station. To paraphrase, the guy said that, "If you aim for the roof, you fall on the ground. But if you aim at the sky, you fall on the roof. So aim high!" This quote never made sense before, and it continues to baffle me up to this day as to why some guy would even coin such an asinine quote.

Let's analyze for a second. If the man falls on the ground, he would most likely break his bones at the very worst. However, if he falls on the roof, his body would pass through the steel (ouch) and come crashing down the ground(double ouch). The moral of the story? Never use houses and ground as an analogy to setting your goals.

Now, onto the gayness!

For years, I have dedicated my life to a simple saying, "The trick is to not care." Regardless of how pessimistic the quote may sound, I can honestly say that it has served be well throughout the times I was using it. In fact, the quote was never meant to be used in a negative way. For instance, I failed in a exam. Bah, who cares? I'll just ace the next one. Another example, a girl who I liked fucked me up big time. Screw that! I can get my nookie from someone else. In essence, the quote serves to see something positive from an awful situation by acknowledging the said incident and downplaying its effect to keep one from getting too absorbed with the failure. By not caring about my mishaps, I continue to act as a functioning human being.

However, ignoring feeling is one of the most difficult things that a person can actually do. I have seen people appear fine and dandy after a break-up or rejected from their job application, but they're obviously rotting in their core. I was rotting in my core for years by keeping inside bad feelings and disappointments towards people and things I cannot control. Those unspoken black emotions have become part of my character, which is why, for all my good nature and pleasant demeanor, I am essentially a sad and prosaic person.

Almost a year from now, I remember "giving" the quote to my officemate during her time of duress. I don't own the quote anymore (not that there it any owning in the first place) because it's not for me anymore. It has done me good, but it's probably time to move on into something much grander quote. What that is, however, is beyond me.

Monday, August 4, 2008

On Ennui

After getting accepted by my current employer, I was expecting a lot of work to be done judging from their tedious exam and interview process. It actually comes as a shock that I am bound to finish my first day with the company having done nothing but play online games at Albino Blacksheep (awesome site). For 8 hours. Worse, the languor will continue for another two months, said by some of the employees there. Imagine doing anything possible with a high-speed Internet -- without a firewall and blocked sites -- and get paid at the same time. Sounds like a great job, right?

I digress.

One of the reasons why I left my first job is the biting idleness. Although some people welcome it like a long lost friend, I treat it like visiting cousins I never got close with. Sure, the interest is there during the first few minutes when talking and getting to know them. However, after realizing that there's nothing else to talk about, you would probably be wishing that they leave the house soon.

I don't hate doing nothing, but I'm simply not used with being unproductive at work. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy watching random silliness from YouTube or playing close attention to basketball sites on the 'Net in between work, but doing that for 8 hours for the next two months? C'mon.

On a bright side, I could use this time to brush up on the assigned readings at the university. Thankfully. So I planned to devote the remaining hours at the office by reading Percy Bysshe Shelley and his magnificent contributions to the world of poetry. However, after reading a few pages from his A Defence of Poetry, I'd stick to ennui instead.

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