día triste

Odio que yo a veces sé demasiado.

rise

deadma.

that's what i am according to a friend, when i told her how i felt during my latest performance review with our boss. it's a filipino slang for being apathetic. maybe, but i find the word...errr...too heavy. apathy implies not giving a damn, and that is definitely not the case.

what made her say this is probably because i said i am not worried with work at all, even after i was told that the one big thing i was supposed to handle, a project, had been 'postponed indefinitely.' it seemed more like 'discarded' to me. net - this leaves me with nothing to do (sometimes I imagine roots slowly creeping under my aptly colored green office chair).

even i was surprised with what i felt - yes, there was a slight twinge of uncertainty but that was it. am i being cocky? no, i just know i'm ready.

now i'm not exactly wishing for things to change drastically, but my world won't crumble down if they do. besides, as Carlos Castaneda said, a path is only a path -- so why should i get attached? i admit it will be difficult and scary (well, my parents will also probably freak out and ask me what the hell am i doing with my life) to leave this path but when the time comes that i must, there will be no hesitancy. nor guilt. no one will make the decisions for you (unless you're still gurgling and drinking from a teat); your life is yours to take, heck that's what free will is all about.

it has taken too long for me to snap back and i've forgotten how freeing it is to realize that i am capable of becoming the super-me.

time to break the chains that has held me to the ground.

desiderata

i feel like lashing out right now but thanks to fatigue and the heavy feeling that a rice-based meal leaves, i do not. this is not to say that the chaos inside me has gone; it has somewhat subsided but there's still a probability of me punching err..a pillow perhaps, otherwise i will be typing with bloodied hands and amuse you with my typos.

now many people think we're a normal family - and they are correct, we are. i've just seen it proven today. oh you won't believe the drama. the drama! often i feel like living inside a boob tube being watched by crying, shouting throngs of people.

but i'm digressing, because really, what i am trying to do is find sense in all these, this clip in my life's video, aside from breaking into my outer stress-shield and putting my heart into a harried pumping action.

a rather cheesy (but nonetheless suitable) reply is that i am in this family to break the chain of hostility. another is maybe because i am here to even out the scorecard between good and evil among us. they both sound important answers but i'm not hearing a *ding*. i have no plans of getting into the peace corps.

then the best idea of all presented itself: i am learning. if life teaches by means of opposites, today's lesson is simple - there is power in silence.

my nikifor

The cinemas have forever been flooded with multi-million uber-special effects action, happily-ever-after romance, and gross-out sex comedy movies, that is why My Nikifor stands out.

Set in Poland during the height of its Communist rule, the movie has a sober atmosphere to it, and tells the true story of a forgotten painter and how an aspiring one becomes his reluctant guardian at the expense of his family and complacency. Add the perpetual gray winter backdrop and the english subtitle, voila, you have the makings of an 'art film'. Seriously though, what the movie lacks in extravagant production setups, it makes up for in simplicity.

Being devoid of dizzying effects and screenplay complexities, it was able to get its message across without the headache. At length, My Nikifor is a tale that has been told before, that of the basic idea of giving a damn.

break up

We entered the theater just as the lights were dimming. I smile because this is another 'movie Saturday' with you. We finally found the perfect seat and settled down to watch a film about a woman, her daughter, and a plane flight, but my mind drifted away.

It has been like this for quite some time now - we go out, share a movie, and sometimes we just sit quietly over good coffee. I enjoy your company immensely, but I am increasingly starting to imagine myself with someone else.

For now, I try to make the best out of this relationship, before I lose you or, you lose me. Either way, parting is inevitable.

See, sometimes I die of solitude.

weather the punches

"It is not the critic who counts, not the man who points out how the strong man stumbled, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena; whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again; who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, and spends himself in a worthy cause; who, at the best, knows in the end the triumph of high achievement; and who, at worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat."

~ Teddy Roosevelt

It doesn't really matter now, does it? We have no choice but to fight. We've been told over and over that life is a constant struggle, and that the only competition one has is himself. These ideas are so basic that we tend to dismiss them right off, thus we end up lonely and bitter because we fight all other forces except our own. Yeah yeah, the crowd can mock our efforts all they want, but why listen, when you know your life is yours to take and use.

Gotta parry the blows.

the thespian

the patter of rain
are little drumrolls in this theater
presenting in blinking lights,
my pain;
the curtains unfold, finding me on centerstage

the lone actor
basking in the spotlight of anguish and rejection
spoke his lines
and sonnets of deep inside
but words won't come out
drowned by the jeers
and cheers of his defeat

and i reeked of melancholy, of rotten tomatoes
waiting for the afterglow