Monday, June 30, 2014

Three Months After


Mom's pressuring me to have a job and I can't blame her. Three months after graduation, my status inside this house is slowly gravitating towards 'parasite' and the extra bills they have to pay for my electric consumption is not helping.

Truth is, I'm trying very hard. I've been sending application letters everywhere and I've done the best that I can to make my resume creative and memorable. It seems though that my efforts are lackluster and over the weeks, I am considering the reality that maybe my timing is not right. The last few weeks of May is probably not hiring season and the companies simply cannot afford to hire someone off-season and somebody who's practically a greenhorn in the banking industry.

I have no choice though but to keep pushing. Pessimism will do me no good and besides, I still haven't tried applying for government agencies, lending corporations and call centers. I guess I'm just gonna have to push my luck and see where it leads me.

Thursday, June 26, 2014

Dear Superman

I don't know what to say, first of all. Or rather, I don't know how to begin with the things that I should say. I know I should say I'm sorry for being unable to visit you, but frankly, I don't know if it's okay to actually visit you. Your Mom does not know the past we shared and I'm not sure if she'd very much welcome the notion considering the circumstances. So I'm sorry for my incapacity.

If it comforts you, I'd like to tell you that I've long forgiven you. Not because of your current condition, but because I already have a long time ago. We were young. We were immature. And youth and immaturity sometimes make very bad combinations. Love back then was a tiny flicker and a little wind was enough to extinguish the flame. So don't carry the burden anymore. I've already left the baggage somewhere along the road to where I am right now.

Along that road though, I've come to realize that love doesn't really end. That although the flames of our previous romance are long extinguished, a little warmth is still there, provoked by small incoherent things like smiles, or sepia windows, or memory. The reality is that the love I had for you was a real kind of love; the kind that doesn't go away but simply sits in a corner somewhere deep in my heart; the kind that maintains it's passivity despite me finding another great love.

What I'm trying to say is that you should get better soon. Because it will break my heart if anything bad will happen to you. Not because I still want you back. But because I know that over the years we've cultivated a friendship that I'm not ready to end yet. So get better soon. We are praying for you.

Saturday, June 21, 2014

Musings While Lana Sings


Beginning your mornings with Lana del Rey's haunting Ultraviolence is decidedly a bad idea. Mostly because the first seven songs are designed to make you think that you're high and minutely because waves of depression, anxiety, nostalgia and pain for breakfast will never be healthy. Yet here you are, consuming the tunes like coffee, permeating your universe.

Contemplation draws you to the conclusion that you like solitary activities and its varying nuances. You like talking to yourself and exploring the choreography of the different layers of galaxies buried inside you. And you like dancing with yourself - that slow rhythmic head banging as the guitars on West Coast string the remaining hours of morning away.

Tuesday, June 17, 2014

On Boredom and Killjoys


Last night my Facebook feed came across a social butterfly dubbing us with zero night life as killjoys. Like seriously, has society dictated the population that solitude and choosing to stay at home on Fridays and weekends make somebody sad and boring?

Well maybe it does. But not necessarily. The perception of boredom actually depends on the level of interest one extends on others. The activities of one person may be placid and passive but not necessarily boring just because you have a glitzy social life and that others chose to bury their heads on books and music and stuff you'll never be interested in.

It helps to be a little more open-minded because generally speaking, myopia is never good.

Thursday, June 12, 2014

Post No. 315


When you're all alone and you've got nothing to do, it helps to just sit down and write something. Not only does it relieve you from your apparent boredom, it also keeps you on track with what's going on in your head. Personally, I like writing. It keeps my thoughts organized and frankly, with all the thinking that I must do these days, I need all the help I can get to sort things out.

The minus in my writings though is that I think I am too engrossed with my universe. Like the spirals of galaxies inside have kept me preoccupied and insensitive to issues that are outside my realm. Maybe it's time to reach out and write about social issues.

Monday, June 9, 2014

Swallowing Elephants


Washing my clothes and getting my hands submerged in froth almost always remind me of how much Accountancy is ill-suited for somebody who is as creatively inclined as me. Logic and imagination just don't usually mix and I spend most of my days idly building castles, utopias and stuff.

But then again, doing my laundry also almost always gets me thinking of the speech that I will deliver come Testimonial Night after I pass the CPA Board Examinations. Most of the time, it involves bragging about graduating valedictorian twice but mostly, to show that college was a humbling experience, that Accountancy slapped me in the face and showed me that I'm not most intellectual person in the cosmos. Strangely, I always complain about choosing Accountancy yet I've always had a hidden desire for adding the coveted CPA to my name.

Passing the board exam for somebody like me though is like being a boa constrictor attempting to swallow an elephant. It may take a whole lot of muscle stretching and bone crushing before I actually swallow and digest the library of topics needed to pass the exam.

Oh well. Serves me right for choosing elephants over gazelles or zebras or guinea pigs or whatever.