And the Joker was right...

Why so serious? This question kept on buzzing in my head since I started this unlikely charade of working like a bee, and studying at the same time. Don’t get me wrong… I’m not complaining at all. In fact, I wanted how this life’s set-up was arranged for me. I guess these series of work-related burn outs I’ve been experiencing lately made me wonder what I have been ignoring, and eventually, missing.

I have to say that I’m somewhat getting the hang of putting up a smile when faced with my daily dose of stress. Whenever I can, I try to laugh at every wacky moment there is, to distract me from every visible and unforeseen pressure in this pseudo-corporate world I currently affiliate myself with. But you’ll just have to pardon my random (and sudden) bursts of insubordination and sarcastic comments—because I, at the very least, am being humane (I’m being polite here, and I’d rather you don’t want to see my not-so humane side as well). Know this that I’m not being pretentious or anything similar to that kind of fashion because I try my best to be at my tip-top working condition, without losing my own mind (?!)—as much as I can.

Life, in its entirety, is harsh just as it is fair. We do everything in our capacity to make sure we can get by with our daily challenges. Yes it may be too much to handle at times, regardless of how much effort we exert to overcome or (in some cases) ignore it. But it does not necessarily mean that it has to be that hard. Our minds focus too much on this concoction of fixed and random goals that we’re forgetting the reasons why we exist. We beat ourselves too much at the beginning of the day, thinking that we’re making our sacrifices and immersing ourselves to do what we’re asked to do… But for what reason? Is it not to live? Is it not to provide a better life for our current (and future) offspring/s and loved ones? If it is so, then why do we have these times when we could not even appreciate the simplest things being handed or showcased to us? Is it a matter of satisfying our pseudo-obsessive selves? Is it to maintain our personal level of “security”? Is it because everybody does it? Somebody tell me, because I want to know.

This would actually be the first time I’ve ever agreed with a villain’s viewpoint, moreover, the first time I’ve agreed with the psychotic type. Does that make me crazy too? I don’t know about that. All I can say is he made a lot more sense than any idealistic plots there is thinkable. I’ll probably keep on asking myself this question until I find an answer. But I’ll share this question to you as well.

Why so serious?

On Friends (and a handful of people I trust)

It’s been a while since I’ve gone all personal. Though I couldn’t deny the fact that all my works came from the eccentricities or the farthest sides of my reality, I’m beginning to find it hard to expose the very side of me that only a handful of people know (lately). After all, the very reason why these blog entries exist is to unravel my life’s, and probably other people’s, mysteries and for my ongoing quest to search for the orgasmic life. I guess it is okay for one to be weak and emotional once in a while, right? Anyway, read along if you will… just like before, feel free to express your thoughts and reactions towards this week’s viewpoint.

I’ve looked at http://www.dictionary.com for the definition of this word. No, I’m not stupid. It’s just that I’ve never given so much time and effort on finding out what this actually meant.

Friend - a person attached to another by feelings of affection or personal regard

When I was kid, my teachers kept telling my parents that I was really friendly. I could recall fragments of that timeline that I was all smiles, enthusiastic in meeting different people, and that all-positive attitude towards everyone around me, regardless of age and sexual preference. Probably it’s because those factors didn’t matter to me at all. As I grew up, I believed that a child’s heart is both a precious and fragile thing to hold on to, and it’s because of a very sensitive element that will become essential to every relationship he/she will undertake as they mature—trust. I still do grasp that kind of truth until now, by the way…

To those who don’t actually know, I learned how to choose my friends when I was on my third grade. I transferred to a different school where, even if kids play the same kind of games, the rules are followed differently. I was then segregated from the general norms and I was even bullied at one point because it is only I who believed that the earth is round and that it revolved around the sun (okay, I’m being figurative here, but you get the gist right?).

This…treatment (if you will) did not just take my smiles away, but every single thing that my teachers used to define me as well. I rewrote my entire definition of the word and lived through a different code. I’ve unconsciously made a fortress against this “normal” society and learned to only trust individuals who either share the similar, if not the same thought-pattern and/or interest, or those who proved themselves worthy of. Yes, I know I’m being judgmental and it’s a sad way of evolving, but what can I say? We’ve got to get by and survive in this harsh and somewhat just world, and there are different ways to live through it. I did these things, and decided on what I believed is right at that time.

I hope I’m not able to send the wrong message because at this very moment, I want to let everyone know that I love my friends, wherever they may be or whatever they’re currently doing.

I have to admit that I’m no longer the type who’d make a lot of friends, not because that I was traumatized from whatever pain or torment I’ve endured through the years, but because all I wanted in my circle are individuals willing to believe or go against my ideals for the purpose of seeking greater enlightenment on random topics and events. Though I’m neither dedicated nor affiliated in any specific group, I never really wished for anyone to actually process thoughts the way I do it, nor to fully understand why I react differently on any definite occurrence but just to accept my rarity as a human being—that I behave on a given stimuli is more than enough. Lastly, it’s true that I swing by myself most of the time, but it doesn’t mean that always unavailable. With today’s technology, I’m only an SMS away.

This post is dedicated to the people who, personally, have seen me smile, laugh, and even act stupid without me having a care in the world. This is for the carefully hand-picked few who never stopped believing in, with, and even against me. For the ones who I cried, shared secrets, trained and played games with, I want to thank you for still keeping up with me and my “volatile” self. All of you are playing a vital role in my existence, making this life—an interesting story to tell.

I end this week’s post… ^^,

Time Crisis!

Time. An entity in our lives that can only be measured by sunrises and sunsets. You may disagree with me when I say this, but I have little respect for it. Please don’t get me wrong, for I, if not minutes or hours early, am on the dot on my itineraries and engagements. I am making a constant effort not to make anyone wait as much as possible because without my proper channels for distraction, I only have a cupful of patience for these.

Back in my hey-day college episodes, a friend of mine once told me that time does not exist. For whatever purpose, I don’t know. It may be for the reason that for something beautiful to be simulated or created, it should not be measured as to how long it took to achieve it. Because in a world where dreams, ingenuity and inspiration is involved, one should wait for that moment and drown themselves into that unexplainable rush and let loose of any reality-bound responsibilities (if need be) to create, innovate and even revolutionize whatever that needs to be done. Let the journalists, doctors, scientists, military tacticians, economists, businessmen and politicians (?!) worry about it. At the moment I don’t think I need it. I believe we shouldn't burden ourselves with something we’re not absolutely in control of.

But no matter how hard I try to tread on that path (and as much as I hate to admit to this), I am bound and enslaved to this… void. Logic says that the faster you process something that is of respectable quality and quantity, the more productive you are. Thus the general public rush to wherever they’re supposed to go, as if their lives might be taken away if they’re seconds late. People count how much do they still have to spend for themselves—how many minutes left with lunch, how much longer until the next break, how many tasks and problems were resolved for the day. I can go on with this, but I hope my point is clearly taken that what’s left of us at the end of the day is a few hours to get back to our respective caves, and maximize it as much as we can so we can get ourselves be beaten down the following work day.

And the people we meet get duller and duller as the hours pass—no more time to see and appreciate how the sun shine (or set, for those who work at night). They’d rather maximize their sleep/relaxation time at the confines of their own homes, or even worse think about how heavy their work will be come Monday (when it’s just Saturday). Sucks to admit that I am a victim of this cruel phenomenon, because I value my time, free from all the worldly hassles as much as possible, and that it’s eating my hakuna matata way of living away because of this.

As I conclude my weekly blog entry, I don't want to create any form of confusion and be misinterpreted with this rant-athon. All I want and desire is to own the liberty of our own creative and productive processes without the pressures of other people being rubbed on our cheeks.

I will continue to enjoy seeing how the sun rises and sets before me. I will not stop thinking out of the box. And I will try to break free from the shackles of time this normal world has set before us.

In search for the orgasmic life and living

Disclaimer: The following may have sexually-suggestive contents. Anyway, read it at your own risk.

I’m currently on a crazy quest to find and achieve the orgasmic life (Go ahead and call me a pervert for all I care). Now in case you’re asking why this life, when almost everyone is after the comfortable kind? I’ve got two reasons for that:

1. The “comfortable” psyche bores me. Sure, being the laid-back person that I am, I’d like to live my life as stress-free and as “drama-less” as possible. But also life, in my definition, says comfort and dullness is like a cocktail drink with a bad aftertaste. And I don’t like something like that poured over on my glass.

2. It has always been my intention from the very beginning to live an interesting life. As obvious as it can be.

This all started when I first set foot in the walled halls of the School of Design and Arts in 2005. I immersed myself into a world where a fraction of this country’s society truly appreciates their output and insight. I don’t mean to sound egotistic when I say this—I only say what I see and hear, that and nothing else. I’m hoping all this would change in the not-so-distant future. Moving on…

One Friday afternoon after I’ve had my training for fencing, I bought a big cup of noodles for lunch (we don’t usually eat anything before we rev up, because the extra weight takes a huge toll on our joints) and as I was about to enjoy my seemingly simple, yet-king-sized meal, both my teammates and some of my friends from the debate society started to criticize on the contents of my food, as the package was simple (I could still remember how their “entranced” looks were vividly well, after the steam and aroma came out as soon as I opened the lid).

From then on, it was aliased as “orgasmic noodles”, because there was no dull moment in eating it (apparently they tried it out afterwards). Stupid as it may sound, the experience left them on the climax from the first to last noodle (or sip, in whatever way they like it). For a moment it left 7-11 out of stock of that particular food item, which kind of left me a mixed feeling of content and irritation—because the elite-like people around me were able to appreciate the simple and unforgettable experience in a cup, so much that I couldn’t buy one for myself.

Jumping now to the present, the very familiar and satisfying feeling reincarnated from a simple form of cup noodles to a plastic platter of Greek cuisine. Regardless of how you eat it and which part to start on, it’ll definitely leave you in pure and unadulterated satisfaction. Yes, the food they serve at that corner of Glorietta is also orgasmic.

Thus I have a theory: what if we could live our lives as one, big and long orgasm (multiple times can be an option)? Reality speaks in a lustful way that all our lives we humped, thrusted and performed every position in the book that’s being asked of us (I’m not talking solely about sex here, so keep on thinking out-of-the-box will ya?). And sure it is directed to whoever’s gain with a “wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am/Stan” twist.

And we’re left with what? An awfully-familiar hung-up-and-so-dissatisfied feeling that stings you so bad, you wished you didn’t have that in the first place. What if we do or add something in our activities, that at the end of the day, that no matter how long or hard we hump and thrust the satisfaction is and will always be there? I’m sorry for being vague here for I’m only in the position to speak for my own viewpoint. But I hope I was able to relay my idea.

The very reason why I chose food, and not sex among anything else because for one I don’t want to cite the obvious. On an introspective manner, we all have our own personal desires, each has a particular fashion unique to its own. And since I enjoy dining, experiencing something that is so unexpected and exciting brings out an insightfully-different and far-out version of myself. And I’m willing to (figuratively) jump cliffs and scale mountains to attain this larger-than-life adventure. I’ll let you know how far I’ve gone on this.

So I end this short and weekly blog entry with a lustful question…you don’t have to respond, but it would be nice if you share me your thoughts.

What tickles your fancies, and would you chase it so bad to make you come?

The "kaladkarin" is faced with a crossroad

So far I’ve been working as a Customer Service Representative since 2004. Six years of carrying the huge task of carrying the crap out of people I don’t even have a direct connection with, for the very purpose that you could get by with life’s stress (financial stress to be specific). Individuals like me whose patience level depends on how long and comfortable their sleep was (that, among other things) may not even last a week putting up a poker face and feint a smile and kiss some foreigner’s behind for eight hours each day, every work day.

I guess you can imagine how successful I am with coping with stress for me to last this long, because it cost me a lot to stay on a company, thinking of how and what to do to get by with these… obstacles out of my system. This involved buying a lot of toys and doing worldly (and realistic) vices and every miscellaneous item you could think of, just to keep it on the low for my advantage, that is. That, to which might take my breath away if I keep on with this (I’m not kidding here).

But when that moment arises, one would realize that the pay no longer suffices to stay—thus, one resigns him/herself to the company he/she is currently affiliated with in search of “greener” pastures which, in general truth, follows the same job description as the latter (I may be wrong in this). And the ruthless and ugly cycle begins anew. I guess you can say that through the years my expectations were stepped on several times that I’ll probably hide my smirk and the “yeah right” statement with my poker-faced smiles and nods (please don’t ask who and where I got that from).

To be honest, I never really wanted to carry this job description in my resume for it destroys one’s image and status if he/she enters to a different field of work (let’s say I’ve seen a lot of shattered dreams along the road). 2005 was a year when I was chasing after the dream –the very dream I’ve truly wanted for my own growth. But then my devilish self and I took another dangerous turn and…well, that’s the kind of past I never wanted to go back and reminisce to. All I ever want to do in my life is to work in a field where I enjoy doing. Simply because that it’d be something I’d never consider as a job at all. I know pretty well that I’m being idealistic when I say this, but I’d rather be paid less for the things I want to do than do something that pays me a lot, but my heart is not there when I do it. And it’s rare for me to actually know what I like, mind you.

I’m writing right now because I’m now facing another dilemma—a seemingly simple forked road in my life where, if I make my say now, will decide whether my “professional” family weighs more than my newfound passion. Just like on the previous companies I’ve worked with, where I’ve come across a professional “family” more than just mere office colleagues, it’s a no-turning-back thing when the die is cast. Don’t get me wrong… I’m more hesitant than confused. All I need is time to think and re-evaluate things over. More details on this, I promise you. But for now, I’ll end this entry with a period.

Scribbling Away on a Sunday Afternoon (Obviously I’m lazy and annoyed right now)

I have to admit that I go online on facebook.com whenever I can to update as to what’s happening with the people around me, as well as some events that may satisfy my random interests. It sometimes may not be on a daily basis, because work can be draining (yes, even to the point of sleeping with my PC on). But lately I have to go online to comply with the terms and conditions of my academic requirements.

Yes, the very social networking site that gave sleepless nights to countless unnamed individuals, of varying age, status, and occupation. I have not only need to go online, but I need to access it on a specific time so I’m able to work around it. I hope you can feel how annoyed I am on this, because I really am. Here’s why:

Last week, our professor in Aesthetics class gave us the midterm project we’ll never (EVER) forget. I was able to jot down the details so I won’t forget, though I doubt I’ll ever do. I have to hand it to her for her sense of imagination, but I’d rather do a 5-10 page research paper. Anyway, here’s what I’ve obtained.

Midterm Project:

Create or utilize an existing Facebook game account:

o Farmville

o Café World

o Farm town

o Island Paradise

Design the setting by applying any of the aesthetic principles taken

Write a one page paper and submit as a hard copy “defending” the aesthetic principle application

Passed during our next meeting

I was so annoyed that night, I called Hiphop music as pang-kanto (ghetto) without hesitation. I dunno. Probably I haven’t been dancing and bobbing my head to the endless slamming bass beats, and some big and threatening name for a random rapper who constantly brags about how many assess (hoes) they’ve screwed over, the number of bling-blings, cars and houses they have which may cause some to share the hate. Well what can I say? They gangsta… gotta lot of drug money to spend and get away with it and get shot in the end (okay I’m gonna stop on this). Oh yeah, I’d still say I’m a big fan of the music.

Anyway, like I mentioned earlier it’s been almost a week of having hurrying back home to go online and work on my project, like some crazy idiot whose life and sanity depends on the length of time playing the game. Though there are some games that I’m actually hooked when I log on, it’s just that the list of games are annoying enough for me to even do. I could barely do the things I want to do even!

Where’s the beach when I need it?

It sucks when "growing up" becomes more and more of a strict requirement.

Right at this very moment, I’m currently tracing back as far as my earthly existence is concerned. And so far, I’ve come to realized that I will be turning 27 in a few months. Three more years and I’m no longer within the age “20” bracket. That means 26 years of living and acting as if I’m a cartoon character in an anime show, minus the obvious expressions you’d normally see if you watch an episode (huge sweat drops, frantic movements etc). Usually these ideas don’t bother me at all since it would just be like what… a year older on my record? And most likely, celebrating my birthday wouldn’t be an explosive one compared to a couple of people I know. But now it alerts me the same way my alarm clock functions—may not be annoyingly loud, but a message can be clearly understood from it.

Guys, I’m worried about how my life would turn out in the next coming years, financially-speaking. I don’t usually worry a lot, but now it scares me by sheer thought of it.

Usually when I look at my desk, all I can see are 16 Gundam model kits that I’ve collected since the beginning of last year. Now, I look at approximately Php13,000 wasted completely on “toys”. That amount could’ve been allotted to something more productive and useful either with my academics or in handling my finances. I’m looking at the times when I splurge selflessly on things that temporarily satisfy my material desires (minds off the gutter, please). My somewhat rare escapades to the metro are becoming more and more… pointless.

I’m probably sober from my financial delusions that one day I’ll be hitting the lottery jackpot. Though wishful thinking that you may probably strike gold in that kind of fashion, it’s still illogical. A random John Doe would have more chances getting hit by an 18-wheeler in broad daylight, than winning in these kinds of games…

So… A quick reality check, here. Where am I now?

· I’m working as an agent in a call center, somewhere in the metro earning more or less around 8-9K per cut off every month.

· I’m currently taking up Arts Management in one of the newest artistically-involved institution since UST, and since my job involves working during the day and that night schedules are becoming more and more hard to find, I don’t think I’d be able to finish the course anytime soon.

· Dating myself for 500 bucks and less whenever I have the time. If not, then I’d be sticking my ass at home until further notice, since I can surf wirelessly with ease.

· Still stucked-up with my ideal lifestyle and is somewhat struggling to make that a reality.

The question I’m asking myself now, is.. What are my chances really of changing the course of my life and for me to stop sulking and brooding over lost hopes? I’m interested in making my life free from thinking too much about when will my next pay check will arrive for me to satisfy my needs and the family that I will establish in the future. One thing’s for sure… My current paycheck won’t satisfy much on that. What do I still need to do?

I hope I’m not all too late realizing this.