vrzoomm....
I thought I would update with, well, inanity.
Hard to believe but I’m halfway through my first year of school again. Not hard to believe that I passed my subjects and all, I mean, duh! But shucks, time passes by so fast that I didn’t even notice it in the haste to come up with where I’m getting the next installment to pay my tuition fees. Sheesh, it’s hard to be a student… not only do I not get enough sleep but the darned thing is expensive as well!
Anyway, I’m stressing about learning to dance the first two minutes of Michael Jackson’s Billie Jean for the company Christmas thing. Can’t I just sing it instead? The darned song wouldn’t leave my head (complete with signature Michael Jackson shouts and grunts).
I’m supposed to be making a friend a blog. But then what the heck would I know about that? Hahaha
It occurs to me I might want to add a bit of color pictures or video here… Nah, too much work. I’d try to check on that later.
Remind me to rave about The Life Of Pi. I was seriously stumped by that book.
Labels: ramble, school life
no pain, no suffering... heh
How long has it been since I’ve last been here? Minutes are dragging by like years while I feel as if time is passing y to quickly, not even giving me the chance to breathe. I feel so tired lately that I don’t have the energy to do anything else but sleep. Well, I should have expected this when I started back on school. But, crap… I’m tired.
Not that school isn’t fun. School is fun. Two subjects (from the same professor) out of six make it worthwhile to attend classes. But I guess the entire point of college is the atmosphere and the interaction with like or different minded people. I’m enjoying learning; I think I never stopped loving that.
Anyway, I’m tired. I’ve said that already I know. But when tiredness permeates through your body that you can feel it in your bones and sleep is a rare delicacy to be savored… you probably get what I mean.
stasis
I sat down in front of the computer thinking I have a lot to say, opened a word document and everything flies out. I wish I had an exciting adventure full life to regale you or even clever stories and witty thoughts I just came up with while staring at the blinking cursor in the glaringly bright blank sheet in front of me. I remember days and nights spent agonizing over worn out notebooks I proudly called journals and wishing I can shut my thoughtas of and finally go to sleep and break the curse of pathetic insomnia. Of course I was also in a different mind set those days… angst, my constantly irritating companion. I’m more happy go lucky now. Sedate. Placid. Uncaring. Indifferent. Aloof. Maybe I finally fried my brain. Oh, well.
For some reason I wanted to update my blog. I actually have a handful of blogs I have forgotten passwords to time and again and abandoned thru time to focus on achieving the once sought after state of catatonia. These days, even if I’m awake I still feel like I’m sleepwalking. Sleepwalking through my nights while I pass out during the day and wake up for a brief moment just to submerge myself back to the unreality of the new novel I’m reading unconsciously taking note of how soon I’d finish it agitated in looking for one more to fill the interminable inactivity before I have to actually get up and go to work. My days are filled with nothing, I’m not proud to say… though not really minding it either except for some brief moments of realization that there’s a world out there beyond the four (five? six?) corners of my room, then I snap out of it and sleep it off. What happened to the fierce exclamations of ‘carpe diem’ and living life to the fullest, you ask me. I don’t know. Somehow it’s a bit frightening to even think that I don’t really care that much anymore. Feels even worse when it rings true.
Anyway, depressingly mundane things aside… well, I don’t really think there’s anything else aside from the depressingly mundane. Hahaha. It’s too funny how utterly hopeless this is. I just realized what a sad existence I’m living out because I still can’t come up with a reasonable explanation of how this stagnant existence is actually not as dreadful as it sounds. But then it really is not as bad as it seems to be. I’m well, relatively content to just watch the world go round, living vicariously through paperback novels and online fiction, exploring worlds and minds of people through the worlds they imagined.
But (here comes the glaringly obvious point I’m trying to gloss over) I leaving my own life to waste it seems… I feel guilty. Well, not guilty that I decline invitations to impromptu drinking sessions after work or even innocent breakfasts in usually expensive restos after shift. Not guilty that I spend more time being active in the office, around people I can tolerate going home tired and sleepy rather than going home on the dot and just engorging myself on mindless and pointless tv shows until I feel braindead or exhausted enough to sleep.
See, I think I’m still waiting for ‘life’ to begin even though I know that the world doesn’t work that way and the basic principle of physics is that anything would not move unless you apply force behind it. Yeah, the cognitive knowledge is there, I know and accept it as true but still stupidly wait for some kick that would propel my life to motion. The stupid thing is, a small part of me isn’t really sure if I want it to start. Today is real. It’s also simple, usually manageable, routine, comfy and safe. Most importantly, it’s safe. Safe from what? I really have no idea. So I go on reading about great adventures or even completely ordinary settings filled with deep insights borne of pain and chaos and conflict and I sit in my bed in my locked room completely removed from anything that could threaten the stillness of my existence. Live vicariously, said every one who has ever been great. I sit in the sidelines in awe, clapping and cheering my head of to afraid to follow… or too lazy and filled with rational yet empty excuses?
Fear or Laziness, asks director Richard Linklater in his rotoscoped animated movie Waking Life, which is the most universal human chracteristic?
(oh yeah, watch the movie… so cool)
listening to Go with the Flow by Queens of the Stone Age, which a xian asked me to listen to with his new zune. i should get one and just drown myself again in music shutting off the world beyond my earplugs... apathy and disinterest plus solitary absorption to music only i can hear... yeah, why not... dismissing the world one step further...Labels: angst?, ramble
remember, remember the 5th of September?
I had it all figured out. The week of my birthday, I am on leave from work free to do whatever for the week and sleep the entire Friday away, not mentioning or even thinking of my birthday at all.
Thursday morning, I woke up as Imago’s The Box (my message alert tone) vibrated on my pillow telling me to call work. A few minutes later, I’m set to come in later that night and come in on Friday. There goes all my plans to mope around and get all broody and lazy which is just how I think a turn of another year should be celabrated, like dying and being born again, full of angst and waiting and mostly nothing but sleep. I used to be more active, I’d actually make the effort to go out of the house and numb my brain with mindless pop movies cinema hopping and high on caramelized popcorn.
But not this year (nor for any other past years that I remember).
A year older, I don’t feel it. Actually what I feel is a sore throat and sore muscles, lack of sleep and the tendency to remain awake in a super bright room filled with chattering people even if I hide myself under the cube we use as a quasi-apartment/motel (it’s all filled with small square pillows and blankies, separated from the world mostly). I also feel the need to prepare all I need for my training tonight that I told myself I wouldn’t think off not until 10pm later this evening when I come in for my 12am training. No, I’m not saying I work that hard, I would probably come in a little closer to twelve tonight since I already somehow have an idea of what I am going to do. Anyway, that’s not important, I’m just blabbing.
So, it’s the 5th of September, almost exactly 23 years since I was born, what have I done with my life?
See? I told you brooding and angst is called for, not to mention an entire day of sleeping, or mind numbing TV, or a movie marathon of classic proportions, or sleep, yeah, sleep… and cake! Who could forget cake?
rook, castle... whatever...
Your result for The Chess Mess Test ...
The Queen's Rook
Congrats! Only 5-6% of the population score this!
The Queen’s Rook is a pensive, analytical individual. They don’t mind spending long periods of time on their own to work through problems. They may venture so far into thought they appear vacant or detached; often they really are oblivious of the world at that moment. These wayward princes are precise about descriptions and by habit correct others (or feel sorely tempted) if the shade of meaning is slightly off. This is annoying to the less concise, but this is what gives the Queen’s Rook a gift for gab, especially in writing.
This Rook is relatively easy going until their principles of truth, knowledge and justice are violated. Because of this they hate the formalities of bureaucracy, politics, and authority – which tend to mask the truth of operations. They will respond with a flip of the switch and become outspoken and inflexible. They will eventually drop the issue, because they do prefer a reserved and benign ambiance. The problem with the Queen’s Rook is when they are debating a point; they may be convincing themselves as much as their opponent. They spend a considerable amount of time second-guessing their abilities and may come to multiple conclusions that offer plausible solutions.
An indicator that a friend may be a Queen’s Rook is an obsession with logic. If a mistake is made, it is because there wasn’t enough data or it was placed out of context. Another indicator you’re friend is a Rook, throw a strategy game at them. They enjoy Risk, Bridge, Chess, and word games. Never rush the Rook. They don’t draw conclusions very quickly. If one were to gather a bunch of Rooks together to form a group they may debate:
1.) Whether or not there should be a group.
2.) Exactly what name should the proposed group choose?
3.) Which of the persons in the group should take responsibility or should they rotate?
i love the Alice in Wonderland/Sir Tenniel images. though, i don't really play chess... i could live with being a rook.
check it out here... http://www.helloquizzy.com/tests/the-chess-mess-test
wish a wish to wish wishes
Starlight, star bright
First star I see tonight
I wish I may
I wish I might
Have the wish I wish tonight
Make a wish.
.
..
…
..
.
Then send this to 7,107 people in the 7,107 islands of the Philippines in ten seconds.
It’s weird how naïve people can be sometimes about wishes. I never really got it though. We get so many chances to wish according to the world: on the first star you see at dusk, when you see a shooting star or just pick any of the countless stars and wish upon one. We wish before blowing birthday candles, on wishing feathers, wishing wells, wishing fountains, wish bones… You can make a wish when a digital clock displays the same digits or when the digits displayed corresponds to your birthday and when you enter a catholic church for the first time. There are harder instances too: completing and attending all 9 days/nights of misa de gallo, going to 7 different churches on holy week, when you pray ten Our Fathers and Hail Mary’s and pray the rosary, when you send a irritating and pointless email to 10, 11, 12,13 people in 5 minutes who probably already received the same email you’d be sending them…
Aren’t wishes supposed to be as free as dreams? It’s funny because we make up these stupid and rather pointless consequences of when we could wish or not or when it would be granted or not. You can wish on a fallen eyelash that a friend picks up from you but it would only come true if you can guess which way it’s going: up or down. Same with the wishing feather, make sure you do not weigh it with a wish so big that it can’t carry it to the sky. You can wish on your birthday candles but it would only come true when you blow every single one out in one breath. Can anyone really come up with a study of which of these are effective and which are not?
Same thing with luck. I get at least one email or one text message every week about luck… send this to all of your friends to have good luck but if you don’t bad luck will follow you. If you break a mirror you would have seven years of bad luck aside from a mess to clean up. If you find a four leaf clover it would bring you luck but a five leafed one would be bad. If a black cat crosses your path, pick it up, it’s cute! … err, I mean, you would have bad luck on wherever your going. If you wear red on your birthday, you’d have good luck but it would be bad if you do on a funeral.
There’s so much more.
Obviously, I’m not a superstitious person but its amazing how much people rely and follow these unwritten and universally acknowledged “maybes”. It won’t hurt to believe, some people would tell me while throwing salt over their shoulder or trying to catch a rogue wishing feather. It’s not like you fully depend on your wish coming true or on your luck, you still try your best and work for what you have and pray for what you can achieve. And who am I to break their faith in the magical and colorful mysticism of world just because of cold, hard facts and boring logic. I guess it’s just the kid inside all of us struggling to break free. The kid that believed in Santa and flying reindeers and fairies (clap your hands if you believe in fairies!) that trusted the world completely. Maybe we all need to have that kid come out every once in a while to just smile and believe in the world, to believe for us that anything is possible and dreams can be reached and that good triumphs always over evil and that love conquers all. Maybe we need to break our systematic trance in a work day to stretch our arms out and try to catch that elusive wishing feather or pause in our hurried 15-minute lunch break meals to ask a friend to grab the other end of your chicken wishbone to see which of you can get a wish free. Or at the end of the day, weary and tired, we could try to seek out the first star we see and wish for anything, even the impossible. Who knows, it might happen…
Maybe we all need to let that child inside us to come out each time we feel weary or depressed or jaded and hopeless and just let that child we once were to keep believing for our adult selves. Who knows, the world may end up being a little less bleak and a lot more beautiful.
But I’m still not sending those emails.
Define You
I am me. I surpass definition. I seek it then evade it, always moving ever changing. I am me. That means I am more than my name or position, more than a statistic, more than the result of any IQ or personality tests that come so free yet incomplete over the internet. But you can get the complete and more in depth view of who you are for the price of … we just need your credit card number.
I am me, I don’t know how else to put it. If I could be any other person except myself I would seek me out to get to know me better. But if I was in a different person’s body, who would be in mine? I sometimes day dream about the future me going back to this moment right now not to change my life or save the world or anything cheesy like that, I just would invite myself for coffee to get to know me. I imagine sometimes of going back to the past to talk to who I was around 5 years ago just to get to know who I was then and try to compare it to who I am now. Have I changed much? But then if a random stranger, no matter how she looks like me, corners me in a coffee shop, I don’t think I’d be forthcoming enough to get to know.
I can ask others. I do ask others. ‘Tell me who your friends are’ said the wise man, ‘And I’ll tell you who you are’. But it isn’t any easier. My friends are themselves. They’re human with their own characters and personalities and quirks. They are like me in a way but also distinctly different. We share and agree on a lot of stuff just as much as we are opposed entirely on some. We drink coffee or tea in coffee shops, heads in clouds of first or second hand smoke or in fogs of air conditioning while talking about life and the world and life. We like life, we have it in common.
Well, one of them asked me (randomly, might I add) to define myself. I have been asking myself this since I can remember. A teacher and friend of mine once asked me that too. She said that there are three essential questions we need to ask ourselves in life: who are you, why are you here, and … I forgot the third.
Your turn. Define you.
Define you
I am me. I surpass definition. I seek it then evade it, always moving ever changing. I am me. That means I am more than my name or position, more than a statistic, more than the result of any IQ or personality tests that come so free yet incomplete over the internet. But you can get the complete and more in depth view of who you are for the price of … we just need your credit card number.
I am me, I don’t know how else to put it. If I could be any other person except myself I would seek me out to get to know me better. But if I was in a different person’s body, who would be in mine? I sometimes day dream about the future me going back to this moment right now not to change my life or save the world or anything cheesy like that, I just would invite myself for coffee to get to know me. I imagine sometimes of going back to the past to talk to who I was around 5 years ago just to get to know who I was then and try to compare it to who I am now. Have I changed much? But then if a random stranger, no matter how she looks like me, corners me in a coffee shop, I don’t think I’d be forthcoming enough to get to know.
I can ask others. I do ask others. ‘Tell me who your friends are’ said the wise man, ‘And I’ll tell you who you are’. But it isn’t any easier. My friends are themselves. They’re human with their own characters and personalities and quirks. They are like me in a way but also distinctly different. We share and agree on a lot of stuff just as much as we are opposed entirely on some. We drink coffee or tea in coffee shops, heads in clouds of first or second hand smoke or in fogs of air conditioning while talking about life and the world and life. We like life, we have it in common.
Well, one of them asked me (randomly, might I add) to define myself. I have been asking myself this since I can remember. A teacher and friend of mine once asked me that too. She said that there are three essential questions we need to ask ourselves in life: who are you, why are you here, and … I forgot the third.
Your turn. Define you.
