Migraine

These gave me serious headaches tonight.

An attempt to get help from an HP Online Technician

and

Steve Burns (Blue's Clues).

I wish Blogger had LJ cuts.

A Waste of Time

I went to Ortigas after school early this evening, all swanked up in my favorite pair of pinstripe pants, a light cotton long-sleeved top, and a nice pair of shoes, to attend what was supposed to be a preliminary meeting to a series of financial analysis training sessions.

It turned out to be yet another attempt to recruit me into another network marketing scheme.

I sat through three hours of outdated videos, inaccurate facts, and long-winded spiels on how their company was the best, how it could help me earn money quickly - you know, the usual shit.

I sat though the whole of it, just to be proper, but I was bent on giving a polite no to the recruiter afterwards.

Me: I'm sorry, but it's against my principles to join any network marketing schemes. It's just that I've seen so many friendships broken, so many people blaming each other for not winning back their initial investments - you know, these kinds of incidents - in this kind of business. And besides, I don't personally know anyone who has actually succeeded in this sort of racket. [And I told an anecdote about how I had a friend who went through three network marketing schemes one after the other, going bust on each one.]

Him: [Apparently having ran out of things to say to convince me] But maybe you just feel inferior to this friend of yours because you don't think you can succeed in life.

Me: [At first I didn't quite get his retort to my arguments, but eventually I realized that it was a last-ditch attempt to challenge my ego. Wrong move bud.] You know what, no thanks. I'm leaving. Me, and my network of contacts (who are actual business majors, by the way) who you're trying so hard to recruit - we don't believe that this kind of business - no offense - we don't believe that this whole network marketing thing is the proper way of doing business; heck, we don't even think that it's real business.

And I know I'm not what I used to be, but I sure as hell wanted to say - You don't fucking know who you're talking to, bitch. Don't you dare call me inferior. Go pass UP or Ateneo first. Fuck off - I'll call you when I make my first billion and I'll give you a real job.

Disappointment

As a child, I was raised to believe that I could do anything I wanted to do, as long as I put my mind to it. And I do mean anything - be it becoming a world-class surgeon, training to be an astronaut, winning the Nobel prize, or somehow ending up the next Bill Gates.

I grew up with my parents, teachers, and everyone else around me telling me that I was smart, that I was talented, that I had potential, and well - that I was special. And I believed them.

For the longest time, I just had to be the best at everything that I did, just because I could - for the sole reason that I believed that I deserved nothing but the absolute best. And the weird thing was, for a time I was at the top of my game without even trying, as if it was out of the sheer strength of my force of will.

And it was great, while it lasted - I topped the motherfucking UPCAT (which, honestly, I still have no idea how I did), got full scholarships to every university I applied to, graduated second in my batch, and got 1470 on my SATs (780 in Math and 690 in Verbal - that's Ivy League calibre). I had every reason to have just flown out then and there.

And yet, out of that stupid sense of invulnerability I had then - out of that naive notion that there was always going to be a second chance, another opportunity, I opted to stay in the country.

I blew it.

Sure, I got into a good course in a respectable local university, got reasonably good grades, and was pretty active in my home org for a while. And well, I also got the girl of my dreams after what I once considered a perfect courtship, and it was probably stupid of me to think that the relationship was worth it. But for a time, I thought that I had made the right decision, that I was still on track. I figured that I could work my ass off to get high grades, graduate with Latin honors, and take my graduate studies in an Ivy League in a few years.

But I blew it.

In a single year, I have been reduced to a ghost of the guy I once was. The guy who used to join Math competitions every year - he almost flunked his Statistics class. The guy who used to be a know-it-all can't even recite in class anymore because he's too scared of saying something stupid. The guy who was once known for his sense of humor - well, he hasn't told a single joke in months. The guy who once swore to a close friend that he'd first do drugs than as much as light up one cigarette - he's tried practically every single vice in the book. The guy who used to be so active in Church, who used to play his guitar for God - he's a bitter atheist now. And the guy who made it a point to never miss a single LSYC retreat, who used to be so passionate about helping and counselling other people - he can't even help himself.

I blew it.

All the mistakes I've made in the past have now caught up to me, and now I've lost everything I've worked my ass off for my entire life, and whatever opportunities do come my way I just seem to screw up quite masterfully.

And yes, I am aware that I'm sounding like a totally arrogant prick. Before you start judging me and begin to tell me that I'm still better off than most other people, at least acknowledge where I'm coming from. Whatever I've received, I do try to give away. I've done my best to be an overall nice guy - to not step on anyone else's feet, to mind my own business, and to just do my best. And I may be wrong at everything else, but the one thing I do know is that I do not deserve this.

So much for believing that I could do anything I put my mind to, huh? So much for being special. All I feel now is stupid, ugly, and worthless.

This whole growing up thing - it hurts.

* * *

I started the sem planning to take it easy after the living hell that was last year - you know, just take the requisite units of M.E. then bother with my other degree later on. I planned to stay an entire extra year after fourth year to then complete my second degree.

But I've seen and heard enough in just the first three days of the school year to want out of this place. I just need to get away from here, in as short a time as possible.

And so I got my grubby hands on a load revision form and signed up for five more units of classes. That's twenty-three fucking units in total. I actually have classes from three to six in the afternoon on Saturdays, for crying out loud. I know that I'm up for inhuman levels of stress for the remaining duration of my stay in college, and that this might actually turn out to be one of the stupidest things I've ever done, but what the fuck.

I just want out of this place. I want to get away from everything that reminds me of what a failure I am now and just start over.

But there's still one whole year and one more sem to endure, and I'm scared shitless.

Help.

...

I saw them together today.

I'm shaking so badly I can't even move. I don't even know what to write.

Putangina naman wag naman sa school ko please... Ito na ang kaisa-isang lugar na puwede akong maging ako, na puwede ko takasan ang nangyari. So please lang, tama na - masyado mo na akong sinaktan

Hindi ko na madala sarili ko lumabas sa condo ko ngayon... Baka kung ano pa makita ko. Putangina naman isang taon pa to ganito

Sinira niyo na buhay ko, please wag niyo na ako guluhin. Please lang

First day na first day ko putangina sira na kaagad sem ko. Nanginginig pa rin ako hindi ako makatigil. Naiiisip ko lang paulit-ulit na putangina putangina putangina

Alam mo, minsan talaga pinapangarap ko na kaya ko maging kasing manhid mo na lang. I wish I could just stop caring.

Ang dami ko pang kailangan gawin pero putangina hindi ako makagalaw dahil nanginginig pa rin ako

It's just so ironic that just when I started thinking that things might actually start getting better now that school's started, this happens. It's just so unfair...

Putangina di ko alam gagawin ko...

Take Me Away With You Tonight

My parents got home from a two-week long stint in New Jersey and New York last night.

The second thing that my mom said when she saw me was, "You know what, you should live in New York. Your lifestyle's perfect for it", which was something I've known all along. But she just had to bring it up, didn't she? Now I can't stop thinking about it.

I want to leave this stupid country for good.

I want to go somewhere totally new where I don't know anybody and nobody knows me, and I want to completely forget about everything that happened to me during the past five years. And I mean absolutely everything - school, Alabang, the Ateneo, Katipunan, work. And yeah, her. Actually, fine - just her. And everything that happened because of her.

Yes, I know. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, right? And yes, I know I'm running away again. I just want something new, and there seems to be nothing good going on for me here in the Philippines anymore.

I can't wait to leave. Seriously. I just want to go anywhere (a nice bustling city with a nice culinary and night life, or a quiet beach in the middle of nowhere, or yeah, even a vineyard somewhere in Spain or France - that would be nice) and start a new life, you know: Find a simple job that I enjoy doing, settle down in a nice homey place of my own, and well, maybe find someone exactly like her.

[EDIT: 06.15.06] Over dinner last night, my parent told me and my siblings stories about how well-off Filipino doctors were in the States. I mentioned something like, "I'm going straight to the States to either work or study right after I graduate. I'm so sick of this country." And my mom said in reply, "Okay, go! And if I were you I'd marry a Filipina doctor - they make tons of money."

And I suddenly felt giddy because I suddenly imagined a real-life Meredith Grey. Holy shit, this is so stupid. I actually went straight to Ruins after work last night just to buy the second season set of Grey's Anatomy because I just had to.

One Week Forward

I can’t wait until school starts next week.

I’ve been spending so much time alone the past few weeks, and it’s so fucking miserable. It’s the same thing every single weekday – I wake up early in the morning, drive myself to work, spend nine requisite hours in a mind-numbing desk job where my bosses think I’m a worthless dilettante, spend two or three hours overtime to prove them wrong, drive home, eat dinner, and flop on my bed exhausted. Wash. Rinse. Dry. Repeat cycle.

And because I suck so much at my job, I’ve extended my internship to Friday this week just to meet all my deadlines. Yup, I’ve no free time before school starts; no rest for the wicked, eh? Wish me luck. I sure need it. I haven’t had Lady Luck on my side for practically the whole year.

Weekends are practically the same. Sure, I’ve had my share of parties and drinking sessions during the early part of the summer, but now all my weekends are reduced to are: working on spreadsheets (yes, I’ve been forced to bring my work home now), reading books in bed, smoking while stargazing from my bedroom window, and writing alone in Starbucks over a cup of steaming tea.

It’s depressing, when I think about it. My social life, which is practically nothing to be proud of when I’m in Katipunan (being composed mostly of getting drunk or smoking up alone in my apartment, with the occasional impromptu drinking session thrown in twice or thrice a week), is virtually non-existent when I’m in Alabang. Sure, you can argue that it’s healthy to have some time alone to reflect and wind down – but fuck, this is just ridiculous. In the span of a year, I’ve been reduced from a satisfied guy with his whole life ahead of him, and who couldn’t ask for anything more, to an obese, insecure, solitary failure – who, despite his ever-quickening descent into melancholy, just can’t let go of the notion of something better happening to him. I don’t know if it’s still hope I’m feeling, though; all I know is that I want something better. I fucking deserve something better than what I’m going through now.

That’s why I just can’t wait until school starts next week.

At least in school I don’t have to be alone. I have friends – if you can call them that – who I can drink with, or more importantly, rant incoherently to when I’m drunk. I have work – which is nothing compared to real work in the corporate jungle, believe me – which makes me feel like I’m worth something. And well, while in school I have hours and hours of free time to read books in bed, to smoke while looking out of the apartment window, and to write stuff like this over steaming cups of tea.

* * *

Having finished two of Gregory Maguire’s books recently (Wicked and Mirror Mirror, if you have to know), I then turned my attention to the big screen.

I watched X-Men: The Last Stand last night with my two youngest siblings. It was okay. I then watched the Lost season two finale with a bowl of microwave popcorn and two Pop Tarts. That, on the other hand, was simply mind-provoking; I can’t wait for the next season. I couldn’t sit still after that, so I then watched the pilot episode of the first season of Grey’s Anatomy. And I just couldn’t stop watching until I had to force myself to my room after finishing the first two discs.

Now I’m thinking – I should’ve become a doctor instead. I mean, come on, I’ve been reading medical texts since I was four years old (my dad’s a physician), I’m extremely good at memorizing obscure facts, terms, and procedures, and I’ve always been fascinated with the natural sciences. And yes, I do thrive on adrenaline rushes like doctors in Grey’s Anatomy go through (but yeah, it’s just a TV series, I know, and it’s set in the States, we don’t have stuff like that here in the boondocks). And it sure helps that I’m extremely attracted to Meredith Grey’s character in the series too.

[EDIT 06.13.06: I just finished all nine episodes of Season 1 today. I need Season 2 or else I'm going to go insane. Really. It's all I'm living for now. I actually left work early just to rush home and watch G.A. What's next after I finish Season 2? I don't know. Probably Prison Break or The O.C. Yes, I need to get a life, I know. And can I just say, Ellen Pompeo's voice is so hot. God, I want a doctor for a girlfriend if she looks and talks like she does.]

I’m pathetic, I know, getting crushes on fictional personas. I’ve got the biggest crush on Kitty Pryde’s character (Shadowcat) in X-3 too. God, how sad can I get. Sometimes I think I watch too many films and read too many books. I guess I never really grew out of being the fat, nerdy kid I used to be back in Elementary, eh?

Then again, I hate my life (as if you haven’t noticed that already, right?) I can’t count how many times I’ve woken up in the morning wishing that my life as I knew it was just some big nightmare I had as some poor obese Filipino guy with nothing right going on for him, and wishing that it was now time to get up and go to school (as if it were my first day of college and hadn’t screwed everything up yet, isn’t that grand?) and work for my bright, bright future.

But no, I’m stuck in this body, in this life. Fiction, films – they help me escape from the reality I’m in; they help me imagine that I’m someone else or somewhere else.

And yet, there are only so many books I can read, so many pirated DVDs I can watch, and sooner or later I have to face up to the real world again. I’m so tired of running away.

I’m just so tired. I'm too old for angst.

Two Years: Of Stars, Names, and Bowling Pins

This post was originally written on the 28th of May, 2006. Yes, I know it's two weeks late.

This one's for you.

The password is the answer to the question: Which constellation was our star in?
(Type it in small caps, please).

My Personhood

Advocating Artist

Here's a link to the definition of what an Advocating Artist actually is.

Let's take a more in-depth look at that square, shall we?

I'll arrange these results from highest to lowest, along with the definitions of each trait.

Attention to Style - 98
How aware you are of fashion trends. How much effort you put in to your own style.
Masculinity - 96
The degree of your stereotypically-male traits.
Openness - 92
Your degree of openness to new experiences.
Spontaneity - 88
How comfortable you are with making plans at the last minute.
Aesthetic/Functional - 78 (I'm more aesthetic)
Your prefererence for beauty or form. Low means you care more about how something works. High means you care more about how something looks.
Extroversion - 66
How outgoing you are. High means you are extroverted. Low means you are introverted.
Empathy - 58
How much you understand (and experience) the emotions and thoughts of others.
Authoritarianism - 30
Your adherence to the social order and how much you favor obedience.
Femininity - 14
The degree of your stereotypically-female traits.
Earthy/Imaginative - 6 (I'm more imaginative)
Your prefererence for concrete or abstract things. Low means you prefer abstract, theoretical things. High means you prefer detail-oriented, practical things.
Agency - 4
How much you believe you determine your own outcomes. High means you believe that you have control over your life. Low means you believe that other factors—such as chance, fate, and powerful others—influence your life.
Confidence - 2
How confident you are about expressing your opinions and accomplishing things.
Trust in Others - 2
The general faith you have in other people; how much you think people are good at heart.

First - I have no idea why my highest trait is Attention to Style. I DO know what kinds of clothes girls look hot in - that's basically it. Well, okay. I know what clothes are nice for me and I'm aware of what the latest trends are, but that doesn't necessarily mean I buy or wear them. Maybe when I lose weight. (Yeah, I know, I've been saying that since forever). And at least my second highest trait is Masculinity; that offsets the gayness of the first one.

On a more serious note - yes, people. I have resigned myself to fate. I don't see the point of taking risks or planning ahead anymore - shit just keeps on happening to me no matter what I do. What's the use?

And yes, my confidence and trust levels are in the lower 2% of the sample results. I don't trust other people, okay? I don't trust myself either.

Ahh, yes. I feel like shit.

Exhaustion

I got caught by the police again today.

I was on my way back to the office from a business trip to print some tarps in Caloocan City – yes, Caloocan City, the northernmost city of Metro Manila (located just a little below Bulacan), and which is as provincial to the North as Cavite is to the South – and after stopping over for a while in Ayala Center to buy a book, have some tea, and be pleasantly surprised by a couple of friends who recently graduated from Ateneo, when I was pulled over by the Makati traffic cops (the previous two were the Manila police and the MMDA). Apparently I was in the wrong lane when taking a right turn to the Osmena Highway from some Buendia offshoot road (Mayapis, if I recall correctly). I’m just too tired to explain my side to you readers now, so I’ll just leave it at that. Fine, maybe I am guilty. Shoot me.

To cut a long story short, my license got confiscated again and now I have to claim it from the Makati Traffic Office or somewhere else within five working days.

What the actual point of this entry is, I just don’t get it anymore – my life, I mean. Why is it that whenever I’m actually starting to recover – to actually be satisfied, if happy's too much to ask for – something has to happen to pull me back down into depression?

Hindi na ako maka-ahon. Nakakainis na talaga, sa totoo lang.

Why does shit keep happening to me? Absolutely nothing good has happened to me in the past year, and I’m getting really, really tired already. I’m too tired to even get pissed about it.

At sawang-sawa na talaga ako sa buhay ko.

I have finally began to realize that I don’t deserve all that's happening to me. Why does fate, God, the Universe, the karmic principle, or whatever name you give that sadistic entity, keep on throwing shit at me when honestly all I’m doing is trying to be nice? You know, nice – trying my best to be a good friend to my friends, helping people who need my help, just trying not to hurt anyone around me, minding my own business, and letting other people be happy with their lives. It's just unfair; it really is.

I know I’m beginning to sound self-righteous, but fuck, this is just ridiculous.

I am just so tired. Please, someone, just kill me in my sleep. Please.