The Thin Line Between Recklessness and Embracing Life

Song of the Moment: Remember to Breathe by Dashboard Confessional

Yesterday, I was made to sit through over two hours of grueling film, as I watched the highly acclaimed movie “Into the Wild” --- written and directed by Sean Penn. The motion picture garnered two Oscar nominations, Best Achievement in Editing and Best Performance by an Actor in a Supporting Role, among other notable nominations and distinctions across award-giving bodies in the international film industry. I loosely categorize it as an indie film, but that will depend on your judgment. The story goes this way:

Alex, a young man fresh from Emory College, decides to just leave the material society behind to go on a journey into Alaska's wilderness. He meets many curious characters along the way, and somehow, he manages to leave an indelible mark on each one in the same manner that he learns from each one. He made his own rules, followed where the wind would take him, and just stripped down his lifestyle to the very basics.

Obviously, it would have been a different story all together if a girl played the lead. I can’t even begin to imagine doing what he did. There were points during the movie that made me shake my head and say, “That’s just reckless.” But the very core of the story lies in the adventurous, free spirited footsteps of someone on a quest towards a spiritual revolution, abandoning all the dangerous pretenses of the world and embracing the basic truth of being.

For me, the question I'd like to ask here is, “How can we differentiate a reckless decision from an act of embracing life?” We live in a society that has long perfected traditions, written laws, infrastructures and technology that all exist to help us go through life with a comforting sense of order and safety. We say to ourselves, “Things will go as smooth as I intended, as long as I have X.” X could stand for a degree in college, work experience and wisdom that comes with age. X could stand for money, power and influence. X could stand for a new law, a new government system and political reforms. X could stand for the newest laptop model, a state-of-the-art PDA and the new hybrid vehicle. But admittedly, X is a by-product of the unceasing evolution of Man and consequently, his changing needs. Perhaps in his earliest experiences, there were no X's to begin with. And yet he seemed to have lived as he felt he should and was satisfied. That was sufficient.

So what is reckless then? And what do we mean when we say we should truly embrace life? Try categorizing each one below, and find out what forces are ultimately controlling (or conflicting in) your life.

1. Committing to a pure love with no regard for financial stability, age qualification, parental consent and social divide

2. Choosing a college degree or a job that you love but will guarantee a lifelong struggle for survival

3. Not finishing your education to pursue your dreams

4. Fighting for a cause, even if it means endangering your own family's welfare

5. Dying for a country based on principles alone

6. Rallying behind truth and justice, even if the rest of the world would rather remain with the convenient status quo

7. Choosing the road less traveled that is against the norms driven by your gender, race, religion, social class, etc.

We have a personal choice to make every day... of either being secured by society's progressive values system or being empowered by a strong inner voice. There aren't necessarily any correct answers, nor are there single answers to every question we ask. All we have are differing perspectives in pursuit of different aspirations, within an entire lifetime of balancing acts.

MOTION: This house believes we should stop singing "Rehab" by Amy Winehouse.

Song of the Moment: Rehab by Amy Winehouse.

"They tried to make me go to rehab. I said no, no, no."

And in this debate, I would so eagerly volunteer to be the government prime minister, as long as I use the program cited on Glenn Beck's article entitled, "America Needs a 12-step Program." The great thing about this article is that we can apply it to our own country, and well, even our own personal progress and failure.

Anyway, I lifted the article from this link (jumps to CNN.com). Read on and take a moment to reflect about your own life.

Glenn Beck: America needs a 12-step program
Editor's note: "Glenn Beck" is on Headline News nightly at 7 and 9 ET.

NEW YORK (CNN) -- My name is Glenn Beck, and I am a recovering alcoholic.
It took me a lot of years and a lot of pain to be able to say those words and really believe them. Along the way, I was arrogant, greedy and self-destructive.

But the worst part was that I didn't see any of it.

Even at the lowest, darkest points of my life, I still thought of myself as that successful guy who everyone loved. I was the life of the party, the guy who could do no wrong -- the guy who everyone else only wished they could be. At least that's what I thought.

Now I know better. People weren't looking at me with envy; they were looking at me with disgust as they watched me throw away everything I had worked so hard for.

I think America can relate.

Through hard work and unwavering principles, America took itself from a far-fetched idea to the greatest, most compassionate, most free country the world has ever known. But as our success has grown, so has our arrogance.

We've compromised our values, sold out our principles and used our freedoms to justify giving more power to the government. In the first century of America's life, its government was afraid of its citizens. Now, it's the other way around.

Maybe America should consider starting on the same kind of 12-step program that's helped millions of other addicts who couldn't see that they were slowly killing themselves. Here's my version of it, condensed to six steps since I know that Americans are way too lazy to stick around for all 12.

Step One: Admit we are not powerless.
Take a look at our Constitution. Not just a transcript; find an actual picture of it. The first three words, "We the People," are at least four times larger than the others. Do you think that was an accident? Of course not. Our framers chose those words, and made them that size, because they knew they were the answer to any problem we would ever face.

Step Two: Believe that a power greater than ourselves can restore us to sanity.
I think this one pretty much speaks for itself.

Step Three: Decide to take our power back.
A recent polls says 81 percent of Americans now say that our country is on the wrong track. If you're one of those people, who do you blame? The Bush administration? Congress? The media?
Here's a crazy idea: How about blaming ourselves?

If you don't like the fact that your city has led the country in poverty and homelessness for the last 10 years, then ELECT SOMEONE NEW. Stop voting for the same people from the same party every year.

Our power hasn't gone away (see Step One), it's just been masked by politicians who are tearing us apart for their own gain. We need to reclaim that power, and then we need to use it.

Step Four: Make a complete and fearless moral inventory.
Alcoholics aren't exactly big fans of introspection and self-examination, but this is one of the most important steps to recovery.

What are America's faults? What are our assets? By taking stock of both, we can start to work on maximizing our strengths and eliminating our weaknesses. It sounds simple, but when's the last time you really thought about what America does right? That brings me to Step Five.

Step Five: Admit our wrongs, and our rights.
We're constantly reminded about America's faults and flaws, but what about our achievements?
If you want to teach our kids about Vietnam, that's fine, but you better also teach them about World War II. And if you want to talk about our wars, you better also talk about our welfare. America is one of the most charitable countries in the history of the world, yet our mistakes are always glorified far more than our generosity. That needs to be reversed.

Step Six: Be ready to remove our defects.
Just like an alcoholic, we simply cannot go from sleeping on the street to perfection overnight. This is a big ship, and it takes a long time to turn it around.

But we have to start somewhere, and the best place is with the defects that almost all of us agree on. For example, does anyone really believe that being addicted to Saudi Arabia's oil is a good idea? What about China owning billions of our debt? Speaking of debt, what about the fact that we've saddled our children with $53 trillion in future Social Security and Medicare obligations?

But before we can address any problems, we have to first admit we have them. Many of us are in denial about just how divided we've become. We think that it's just the election or the war that's tearing us apart, but the truth is, it's much larger than that. We're every bit as arrogant, greedy and self-destructive as I was when I hit bottom.

Fortunately, it's not hopeless. It never is. If a program can work on a rodeo clown like me, it can definitely work for a country as great as ours. But until we're able to stand up and say, "Hello, my name is America and I have a problem," we'll never even have a chance.

The opinions expressed in this commentary are solely those of the writer.

PS: I apologize to those people who really thought this entry was about Amy Winehouse. =)

The Quest to Be Interesting

Song of the Moment: Sparkle Me by The Buffseeds

She's an introvert, perennial home buddy, nicey-nice, bring-home-to-your-mama girly girl. Nothing wrong with that, right?

Most days, she'd rather stay home, fix herself a gourmet sandwich and read a good book or watch DVDs. She does a lot of lurking around the Internet from the comfort of her room - drooling over her future Macbook, for instance, or browsing through people's photos on social networks. She is a lover of the peace and the quiet. So, if you'd make her choose, she'd immediately prefer coffee/wine conversations over a club crawl. She doesn't find those fitness dance classes as effective and rewarding as working out/running alone. She feels uncomfortable doing her shopping with another person because she doesn't want anyone slowing her down or hearing someone else's opinion on her fashion sense. However, she still believes she's living a good lie.. errr, life. She absolutely loves to travel, preferably on her own and with a sizeable pocket money. She truly enjoys long drives when she's on the wheel; it's absurdly therapeutic for her. She gets all giddy when she just discovered a new restaurant/movie/music artist or she's about to try out a new cultural/historical activity. And she makes time to hang out and go a bit crazy with the girlfriends, even though she's already in a really serious relationship. Bottomline, I'd like to think that, in spite of her being perceived by the public as a quiet good girl, she still comes out pretty interesting over all.

And then someone says, "The Good Girls don't make the headlines." I thought about that and I tried recalling if there are honest-to-goodness nice girls out there who really got everyone's attention. So it hit me, the good girls who reach the headlines are either dead or are suddenly not-so-nice-after-all (read: as in the selling genius of Girls Gone Wild). Not fair. Why can't good girls be interesting too?

Or perhaps, the nice girl just doesn't know how to sell herself, in fear of rudely stealing the spotlight from someone else. "What's up with you, nice girl? Who else can give you a spotlight except yourself?" I guess it really has something to do with how much she puts out there in order to be noticed... and eventually, remembered. (aside: This sounds like high school all over again. Oh well!)

She has this dilemma about group conversations; she's not a "butt in" person. If you see her with a group, she's probably the token quiet person in the whole table. She has all these ideas in her pretty 'lil head, what with the myriad of blogs and websites she visits. But she just cannot seem to find the rhythm in a group conversation --- that is, knowing when she can make the perfect punchline. I guess it has a lot to do with the fact that in the family dinner table, she was taught NOT to interrupt... so she'd wait.. and wait.. and wait... until the perfect timing has gone by. There's nothing really wrong with respecting someone else's speaking time, but I wish she knew how to speak more and to stop over-listening. Gasp! There's such a thing as excessive listening!
Ok, so I'm the nice girl who wants to be interesting, but still comes out pretty boring as I'm the quiet one in a group because I persistently respect other people's space. With that said, I'd like to officially embark on a Quest to Be Interesting here. So....

I resolve to say anything and everything I feel like saying, and catch that perfect timing.

I resolve to just jump, and let the net appear.

I resolve to read and read, and share and share.

I resolve to imagine things in my head and act them out like I'm in a play.

I resolve to be interesting.

Good girls can make the headlines too. Just you wait. But, someday I'm just going to look back at this post and say to myself, "Man, was that really necessary?"

When was the last time you cried?

Song of the Moment: Still by Ben Folds

This will be as candid and digressive as it can get. Be forewarned.

When the family trooped to Greenbelt this afternoon to hear mass, all that I had in my mind was this: I am not in the mood. I was feeling extra extra shitty, primarily because it was the first day of my week's delayed period --- that meant my hormones were shooting off the roof and the cramps were extra painful. My monthly bane is extra belligerent (yes, there's a little massacre going on inside me) every time I lose the regularity of its arrival. This happens every 3 months or so, depending on the amount of stress I experience --- and I don't enjoy it at all because it has reached points when I've become magnetized to the bed in one position and one position alone. You boys out there have it easy sometimes.

Anyway, that's not the story. Sitting down on the pew was more painful and energy-absorbing than standing by the aisles, so I chose the latter. It was still excruciating, while I held on to the ledge like I'm about fall to the floor. I must have taken this position during normal mass days in the past because no one seemed to have noticed my agony. It didn't help that the place I was standing in smelled like pond water. Argh. I felt the urge to leave and walk around or get something to drink just to distract me. I was doing mental plots, carefully selecting which part of the mass I should use as a cue to slip out. Something kept me glued to my place.

Fr. Jun Sescon, one of the family's favorite priests, took the microphone when it was time for the homily. Again, I wanted to leave, but I just stood there. It turns out, his homily was meant for me, no matter how painful it was to stand around there and take it in. Thank you, God, for pinning me down like that so I'd stay put like a behaved 'lil girl.

(This is where I start talking about what I was meant to talk about. See? Such a long introduction.)

Fr. Jun started by relating Lazarus' resurrection to talks about physical death vis-a-vis breathing people who are actually dead. That would have made an excellent focal point too, but instead he maneuvered his way cleverly towards zeroing in on one phrase from the Gospel (said to be the shortest sentence in the Bible): Jesus wept. Jesus wept for the death of his friend, Lazarus. Anyway, before I sound like I'm writing an exegesis, the gist of his homily was in fact this: You can tell a person's character by his tears (or by the lack of tears). These words are very very true.

I particularly took to heart his suggestion on paying attention to what makes one cry ---most especially, paying special attention to UNEXPECTED tears. Was it when you watched a movie and the character goes, "Follow your heart"? Was it when you were walking across a park and you bump into a 70-something couple, holding hands? Was it when you heard about another person's success? Or was it when that cheesy song started playing on the radio? He suggests that when we see something seemingly insignificant and suddenly breaks into tears by its sheer experience, then that moment will genuinely determine who we are at present, where we're coming from and where we are supposed to be headed. Your unexpected tears, a moment of unintentional weakness and awakening of your desires, will surface what truly matters to you, what will make you happy or sad, and what will propel your sensibilities towards fulfilling your purpose in this world. In the same way that the act of crying physically cleanses your eyes and helps you breathe better by allowing for a faster pumping of the blood in and out of your heart, the act of crying and mourning will cleanse your perspective and help you pump passion back into your life, before you lose life entirely and wake up a dead person every day.

His homily hit me so hard because the other night, I was, in fact, crying unexpectedly. And I was really crying at 2AM, letting everything out of my system --- stuff that I apparently had bottled up inside me for quite a while now, without my knowledge. And I actually felt revived the morning after. I felt a bit weak from the lack of sleep, but my focus and resolve was very sharp. I felt slightly rebellious but that was the point of the unexpected tears --- for one to manifest what is missing in his life, to unblock the day-to-day routine and to awaken from a slumber of commonstance.

In the other end of the spectrum, we have people who no longer know how to cry. They are the people who have become stoics and are indifferent to the human experience. I can cite one very popular person who doesn't know how to cry.. my friends and I were just talking about that person in a funny yet disturbing anecdote last night. Anyway, this kind of person is dangerous because he/she has lost the ability to be moved and that will allow him/her to go about life without regard for goodness and justice. They are like zombies who will walk the earth but not feel its pulse nor listen to its people's calls.

So, how about you? When was the last time you truly cried? When was the last time you allowed yourself to be vulnerable and be reborn again? It is not a manifestation of weakness when someone cries; instead, it is a grand show of humanity and life.

Treason (by Ricky Carandang)

Song of the Moment: Megalomaniac by Incubus

My friends and I were talking about this article last night, and I was shocked as I haven't come across this (until I googled it this morning).

Apparently, this article has been circulating over email for a few days now (since posted by Ricky Carandang on his blog last 27-Feb) --- and I can completely understand why. It is disturbing. It is uncalled for. It is worth, not just a Manila power struggle, but a national outrage.

It is worth passing on, so that other people may know.

A lot of us have been fencesitters for quite a while now, insisting that all the "lawless gatherings" are merely detrimental to the great Philippine economic heyday. The peso is strong, investors are flooding in... and the youth and the religious on the streets are merely idealists who don't understand the immediate implications of another national uprising to a wounded country. But try reading what is written below and then look at me straight in the eye while saying, "She is the best person to be in power now, regardless of the circumstances."

Admit it. You can't just do that without looking away or looking down in shame.

Please pass this on. If you can't be part of the revolution on the streets then be more "one with the times" and use the Internet to express yourself. You've written about that party you went to, that concert you paid a premium price for, that family reunion you thought was boring, and your musings on how incredibly cumbersome or blissful your life is at the moment. There are clearly plenty of channels for people to express themselves with. Why don't you forward this over email? Write about it. Talk about it. Post photos, videos and what-not. Just do not be silent anymore.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Taken from Ricky Carandang Reporting (http://www.rickycarandang.com/?p=133)

TREASON

Allow me to expound a little on a story I did for The Correspondents on February 19th.

Seven countries claim ownership of the disputed Spratly Islands, just off of Palawan. China, Vietnam, Taiwan, Malsysia, Indonesia, Brunei, and the Philippines all claim to own part or all of the Spratlys. These overlapping claims have been a source of tension over the years since the Spratlys (we Filipinos call them the Kalayaan Islands) are believed to contain significant reserves of oil and natural gas. China was the most aggressive in pursuiung its claim. In 1999, the Philippines–under President Joseph Estrada– led an effort to prevent tensions by getting all the claimants to agree not to take actions to provoke other claimants.

But in 2003, the Philippines–now under Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo– rocked the boat that it previously steadied when it signed an agreement with China to jointly undertake seismic studies of the Spratlys and explore for oil and natural gas. Naturally, the other claimants were angry. After getting them to agree not to rock the boat, the Philippines sucker-punched them with the China deal. China’s traditional ally, Vietnam was so angry they it had to be let in to the deal to appease them.

Aside from angering our neighbors and potentially undermining regional stability, Arroyo’s action may also be illegal. Ombudsman Merceditas Gutierrez–who was then acting justice secretary–told former Senator Frank Drilon, who was then allied with the administration, that she believed that the deal violated the constitution, because while it was a deal between the state owned oil firms (PNOC of the Philippines and CNOOC of China) of the two countries, it implicitly gave China access to our oil reserves. Officers of the Foreign Affairs Department were also upset because the deal effectively strengthened China and Vietnam’s claim to the Spratlys.

What would compel Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo to sign a deal that potentially undermines regional stability, possibly grants China parity rights to oil reserves in the Spratlys that we claim to be ours, and likely violates our constitution?

How about $2 billion a year? After the Spratly deal was signed, the Chinese government committed $2 billion in official development assistance a year to the Philippines until 2010, when Arroyo is supposed to step down from office. My sources tell me that the Spratly deal was an explicit precondition to the loans.

A sizable amount to be sure, but for the Arroyo administration the China loans are particularly appealing. Not so much because the interest rates are so low and the repayment terms so lenient, but because Chinese loans do not have the cumbersome requirements that loans from the US, Japan, the EU, and big multilateral lenders have. Requirements for documentation, bidding, transparency and other details that make it very difficult for corrupt public officials to commit graft. In fact, in November of last year, those cumbersome requirements made it impossible for some government officials and private individuals with sticky fingers to avail themselves of the World Bank’s generosity.

It had gotten to the point where a corrupt government could no longer make a dishonest buck. That is until China’s generous offer came along. Given China’s laxity with certain conditions, its no wonder why almost every big ticket government project funded by Chinese ODA has been the subject of allegations of graft and corruption. There’s Northrail, Cyber Education, the Fuhua agricultural projects, Southrail, and of course the ZTE National Broadband project.

Until the ZTE National Broadband scandal, the Chinese government has had little official reaction to any of these allegations. Why should they? The $8 billion is a loan, not a grant. It enhances their influence in the region, strengthens their claim to the Spratlys, and expands their influence in the Philippines. The best part is, regardless of what Philippine officials do with the money–whether they put it to good use or steal it–it still has to be paid back. Its no wonder that anytime some midlevel Chinese official comes to the country, congressmen and administration officials literally trip over themselves to roll out the red carpet.

For corrupt Administration officials and their cronies, $8 billion represents unprecedented opportunities for graft on a scale that would shock ordinary Filipinos.

And at the end of the day, that $8 billion is going to be paid back. Not by the grafters in and out of government; not by the Chinese citizens; but by the millions of ordinary middle class Filipinos who go to work every day, pay their taxes, struggle and to keep their small and medium businesses afloat. The price will also be paid indirectly by tens of millions of poor Filipinos who will not have access to health care, quality education, and a functioning court system because those resources are not going where they should be going.

There’s a word for that. It’s called Treason.

EDIT: If you find the article above a bit too "opinion-based", try this other article written by Manuel L. Quezon III on the same topic but with more sources and a better historical grounding. http://www.quezon.ph/?p=1701

Or if you're too jaded and you feel the two articles could be written by journalists who were paid by the opposition (geez, what are you protecting?), read this article taken from the Far Eastern Economic Review. http://www.viet-studies.info/kinhte/Manila_South_China_Sea.htm

Looking Out from My Fishbowl

Song of the Moment: Beautiful Mistake by Better than Ezra

I've been quiet the past weeks when discussions would veer towards the Jun Lozada expose. The expose shocked me as much as most, and the sincerity in his cracking voice moved me to the bone. But I felt that the issue is still in its early stages, and there are a lot of questions yet to be answered, a lot of voices and perspectives to be heard.

I didn't agree with the Valentine demonstration that was staged in Makati last Friday, because I felt that the rally --- clamoring for a PGMA ouster with merits debatable among different sectors in society --- is not strategically powerful enough and came in too early from a much talked about "tipping point" of democratic purging.

However, as I watch the mass at La Salle Greenhills from the comfort of my room, I am left in an emotional torment. I can't quite put my finger on the internal struggle, but I am almost driven to tears while I'm watching right now. Could it be fear of political instability in the coming weeks that grips me right now? Could it be guilt for being seated so comfortably in the safety of my home? Could it be a poignant recollection of a student leader's past I have almost forgotten now that I'm in the workforce?

It was quite timely that I was able to watch ENDO last night. ENDO stands for End of Contract, a term that refers to the end of a contractual worker's temporary employment given the common practice among Philippine businesses of keeping workers for only 5-6 months to evade mandated labor provisions on workers' benefits. ENDO is an indie film that is primarily a love story but indirectly identified the vicious cycle of contractual workers in the Philippines. They know nothing of permanence, and are trained not to expect career growth. They have no other recourse than to abandon dreams of being lifted from poverty.

I am now in the business sector, so close to being a business owner. I have the opportunity to inherit a prosperous company; thus, I may never have the opportunity to experience the suffering of the Filipino in the grassroots. I am blessed, and I thank God for this reality every day. But every now and then, I remember who I was in college, as if it were a distant past. I was a student leader who so passionately pushed for social consciousness and action. Now that the reality of money-making and my personal survival is holding me in ball and chain, I feel my life is not as fulfilling as I want it to be. I have become my worst nightmare, someone who chooses to be so conveniently enclosed in a forcefield that separates me from the scorching poverty of the country. Last night, I felt guilty that I couldn't relate with the characters in ENDO. This morning, I was contemplating on whether or not to go to a mass that celebrates apostles of truth and accountability. Obviously, I stayed home and blogged and reflected.

You see, I found it easier to respond to a call to arms when I was still a student leader. I held a critical position that was expected to deal with bringing in the external to the sheltered corridors of Ateneo (or vice versa). But now that my priorities point toward bringing in more sales for our company, such that I had to take a business trip to VISMIN at the height of the senate hearings, I write this blog entry with reluctance over proclaiming my nationalism. Am I being hypocritical? Am I at fault somewhere?

I wonder if acting on patriotism is even a function of environment and capacity. For example, young professionals can argue that they cannot drop their work functions in order to participate in mass actions. They would have lost their jobs the next day, and that is tantamount to stupidity in a dog-eat-dog world. On the other hand, I also wonder if mass action is the singular way to act on patriotism. Is it the only representation of unity among Filipino citizens that we can display? Is clamoring for our cause in the streets the only way to be heard and the only roadmap towards policy tightening and implementation reforms?

I love my Philippines. I don't think I can choose any other country to commit to with such conviction. I will pay my taxes and treat my employees fairly. I will stay abreast with the social developments in our country. I will continue to provide for the less fortunate children whose education I have started supporting. And I can blog, like this, in an effort to urge other people from my cozy circles to question their lifestyles in the same manner I did... to ask if nationalism is still being pumped into your bloodstream. Perhaps, I can find a way to join the mass for truth and accountability at 6pm in the Church of the Gesu in Ateneo tomorrow night. But for now, I hope I got your attention.

stay hungry. stay foolish.

Song of the Moment: New Soul by Yael Naim

People have put a lot of thought into the coming of the New Year. I am no exception.

Apart from the thick smoke from fireworks, different emotions enveloped the sky when the clock struck midnight. Reminiscing. Pain. Anticipation. Anxiety. Optimism. Promise. Empowerment. Fear. Sorrow. Joy. Nonchalance. Loneliness. Togetherness. Pretension. Sincerity. Vanity. Depression. Hope. Warmth. Chilll. Guilt. Forgiveness. Forget.

Fortunately, I don't have a lot of coherent words to say about the turning of the year. I just know that people need to believe on something in order to survive this year. Things don't have to make a lot of sense right now because there isn't anything you can predict in its totality at all. Things will only make sense when you look back at things and say, "This would not have happened if I didn't [blank]". So please don't be too hard on yourself. Enjoy the awakening of new things. Enjoy the new and the old. Resolutions exist to inspire and bring you a deeper sense of joy; they should not punish.

I wanted to borrow this citation from one of the few people I look up to: Steve Jobs. In his key note address to the Stanford 2006 Graduating Class, he clinched his speech with two simple phrases:

Stay Hungry, Stay Foolish.

Indeed, I am the only link from who I am now to what I can become. Stay hungry, stay foolish.

A Philosophical Moment with Multiply

Song of the Moment: My Sundown by Jimmy Eat World

Click the photo to enlarge.

VERIFY YOU ARE HUMAN. There's been a lot of activity on your account, which appears to be automated. This sort of thing isn't allowed on Multiply, which is intended for humans to share lives with their human friends. Please enter the code below to verify your humanity.

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There. Am I human enough now?

Don't we all engage in a lot of activities that are short of "automated"? We wake up every morning with chronic fatigue, as we expect yet another routinary day. We look for patterns in our loved ones and "troubleshoot the relationship" when patterns are violated. We'd rather search for formats in our work rather than create a new way of doing things because we want our work done conveniently, without shattering the no-one-has-actually-established-as-infallible status quo. We gravitate towards the same people we've always been comfortable with even though we know they're sucking the life out of us, because a change of scenery translates to being uncomfortably spontaneous. We are scared of change; we abhor unpredictability. But I'd agree with Mr. Multiply when he says: "These [automated] activities are not allowed... [where it is] intended for humans to share their lives with human friends." You and I are human, and the truth is, no aspect of our life is and should ever be predictable or static. We will find the best version of ourselves when we face the strong winds of change, and be blown away in a graceful dance towards the heavens (as opposed to hanging on to dear life in fear). At the end of the day, there is no point in toiling and worrying about life. There are no trophies in heaven. There are no Forbes rankings in the afterlife. There are no Ms. Universe pageants at the end of our mortal lives. But rather, in heaven, I strongly believe that there are only memories of an old life to be relived and recalled again and again.

I don't agree with you, Mr. Multiply, when you asked us to plug in that code. I believe that there is no simplified code that can verify my humanity. In real life, we turn to picture perfect people in magazines and aspire to be like them. There's nothing remotely wrong with having role models; but to obsess over the aspiration of being "them" and losing one's self in the process is a different story. There is no how-to book in being a human. Being a human just entails being. And in the purest sense, being human is just all about letting the you come out without having to listen to what other people have to say.

So, thank you, Mr. Multiply, for that brief unintended philosophical encounter. Cheers.

Death by Brutal Suicide: August 13, 2007

Song of the Moment: Into Dust by Mazzy Star

The last 24 hours of my life did not turn out as how it has always been hyped up to be. I didn’t end up in the confessional, pouring out all my sins to a confused priest who would gladly call in psychiatric help. I didn’t end up panicking over where my money will go, or to whom the few assets that I have will be transferred to. I didn’t end up in some brothel, doing all sorts of provocative and immoral sexual acts with a group of willing strangers. I didn’t end up hastily marrying the man I love ala A Walk to Remember (although it was tempting). I didn’t end up gathering all my family and friends for one last cinematic meal of tears and unguarded words and wishful thinking out loud. I just died and lived to the last second of my life. And I was extremely happy dying so.

I needed to contemplate death to discover how it is to truly live. That’s the greatest irony of my week. When you have 24 hours left to live, you no longer recognize any structural societal norms in every decision you make. You just decide purely out of your own will and you let that moment be conquered with such an easy hole-in-one swing. I just took it one second at a time, enjoying my last embrace with life, not necessarily doing anything spectacularly different but I was genuinely happy the entire time. There was no room for morbidity or remorse. There was only freedom from pretension and guilt. Those skeletons broke loose from within my closet without fear of judgment or controversy. The *coughs* I’ve always wanted to say to people flowed out of my mouth without tension over an anticipated response. Beauty became introspective. Money became immaterial. Love became an all encompassing energy. And fear became obsolete.

Some people might look at this essay and say, “Bah! Humbug! That’s recklessness.” But if you have 24 hours left to live and you know deep within your heart that there are things that have to be done… then Bah Humbug! Frustrate all the critics! You’ll be dead by the time they say a single word of disapproval! (Besides, for all you know, you have just one strong critic: yourself.)

You know what to do already, so stop pretending that you’re confused and that you don’t know the next step. Listen to yourself because you have a better judgment than you’re giving yourself credit for. Do it as if you do not have the luxury of time, and delight on every second you have. Stop fixating on a yesterday that can no longer be changed, and stop anticipating a tomorrow that is nothing but speculation.

Now that’s how it is to truly live. As if Death is just a few hours away.

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This is just one of the many results of attending "Tapping the Creative Universe," a workshop by Jim Paredes. I highly recommend it to anyone who finds herself in a state of inertia --- that is, as how Jim would put it, "stuck in between careers, dreams, loves, or can't even seem to identify the source of the gridlock in her life." The next workshop run in the Philippines hasn't been announced yet, but when you get the chance to sign up for this class, go go GO! The money you'll spend will amount to nothing, compared to the experience you will get in return.

Random. Very. Random.

Song of the Moment: Sick Sad Little World by Incubus

I'll be out of touch for a couple of days, as I go through a self-imposed media deprivation. (Long story. Or not. Hmm, just don't feel like sharing about it now) So, I decided to write this entry. Uhm, I can't vouch for the causality of the first sentence with the second (don't count the aside!). Geez. I can't quite place it, but I have a feeling those two have something to do with each other.

So here are my random thoughts. Again, very random stuff that popped out of my head, in a span of an hour during a typical day (TODAY, just in case you're curious). No, they don't point to any grand ideas or philosophical realizations. No, I'm not writing this in a pathetic attempt to "communicate" with someone I've been struggling with. (You're so vain. You think this entry's about you!) No, I am not high on anything right now. I just feel like it. Basta.

PS: I found out I think in English. Tsk tsk.

1. They actually prayed for the rain to come at the end of the mass today. In an organized manner. They made us kneel and all. This drought's really serious.

2. When foot soldiers are in the middle of battle and they're taking strict commands from their superiors, do they have free will?

3. Why don't they have fast food joints in Greenbelt? Some place where the service is fast enough that we can actually "enjoy" our food without have to be late for our movie?

4. I wish I could be more materialistic and stop depriving myself of gadgets or clothes I can ACTUALLY afford! (NO! FOOD does not count.)

5. I want to speak out all the time. But I clam up the last minute. Nakakainis. All those years of leadership (heck, even commanding an entire batch every freakin' morning of my senior year) meant nothing to me now. Damn you, corporate world. I lost my empowerment in a 6-month stint.

6. Why can't I just win the lottery? I've spent P20 already. Wait. That's not much.

7. Be assertive. Be a meanie. Be assertive. Be a meanie. Be assertive. Hoy. Kaya nga sabi Just Anger eh!

8. Over dinner. "Go to your room"' would be typical. Try, "Get me out of my room!"

9. I don't have a specific fashion sense. I can go from booted up with a micro mini at night, and a loose tshirt + jeans the next day. Whyy?

10. Someone push the red button to eject me from this rut! I want to live in the 15th century or something.

11. I'm scattered all over the place. I'm damn happy. But that's only because I don't give a damn. The minute I start thinking about it, all hell breaks loose. It's a daily cycle, I tell you.

12. Why can't I just get my act together and move my ass? Well, actually I am, but why are things taking soooo long!? Grrr.

13. Number 13. It's someone's favorite number. Someone who happens to be incredibly lucky. Things are not always what they seem.

14. Why do people have to work again? *Ditzy Moment* Oh yeah. I have to eat and stuff.

15. I'm so hard on myself. But I think it has something to do with the fact that I haven't heard a good criticism about my work in so long. I got spoiled all these years, sheesh. Come on, bosses, show a little love and encouragement.

I Met a Stranger.

Someone who knew me since childhood goes up to me and says, "I remember you were..." Like this. And like that. And so much more.

That person she talked about is a stranger now. I don't know that girl anymore. In fact, hearing about her comes to me with a shock... an uncomfortable realization of sorts that she indeed bears the same name as mine.

Hmm.

And then it gets more complicated. It hits me:

You know you're in for one hell of an internal battle when there are some changes you'd rather not go through, but then those are consequences of other changes you cannot live without.

dare you to move...

There is a certain air of sentimentality that whispers in the wind, as if rushing in on queue at the unfolding of a new year. It's really quite a wonder that I've read at least ten posts over Multiply or on various blogs proclaiming both a mellow recall of the fading year and an optimistic gaze towards the year now anticipated with revelry. I view it more as an internal changing of the guard, immensely traditional but nevertheless emotional. We are captivated by such a majestic limbo, as all of us are spectators in the momentary transition, torn between holding on to the past and embracing a new chapter.

It's really difficult to piece together the sorrowful tears, the jubilant smiles, the sleepless fears and the liberating mornings that was the Year 2006. I only have myself to boast as the completion of another year's puzzle --- a masterpiece of sorts, changed for the better. I pray that the erratic spur of events from last year can present to this year a more able, more fearless, more grateful and more lighthearted me.

As always, this year will be difficult and different and promising. And I'd love to bask in that three-fold truth. I offer a quiet prayer for my family and friends and well, for each and every one of us that we may all see more promise than fear, hold on to hope rather than wallow in darkness, aspire for great things rather than settle for the mediocre, and love unconditionally rather than be fixated on the evils of the world.

Now, enough with the talking, I better start moving. It's not called a beginning if there's no follow through.

Happy New Year, everyone! Thank you for all the memories, and I am looking forward to more this year.

boo-boo: two oh's more of the word....

When you've been working for a company for quite some time now but have not really reached the regularization threshold, you find yourself caught in a dilemma when you make a mistake.

You're the rope in a tug-of-war of realities. You're not sure if the mistake was due to sheer incompetence or just plain ignorance.

See, something wrong happened today. And it's a Sunday, so nothing much can be done. I sent an email from my personal account to a shipper today, secretly hoping they'll be able to read through the email tomorrow so I won't have to think about it until after the weekend ends. But alas, the message reached them within the day, and I actually get a response this evening. I was cringing when outlook was loading the email. And so it reads: "I'm confused, I thought it was YOUR JOB to..." I knew it had to be someone's fault, but I'm not sure who should take the blame.

I reread the email. There was a long pause in the outside world to accommodate the sudden influx of thoughts within me. "Was I really supposed to...? Was that really part of my job?" Again, the question echoes in my head --- is it an ignorance that can be forgiven or a negligence that had to be condemned? Several months into the industry and I am still ignorant. Or several months into the industry, and the training is still unfinished.

Yes, it is a self-inflicted burden to aim for perfection because no human is perfect after all. But in the real world, imperfection and mistakes actually cost money. So you'll just have to deal, stop pointing fingers, do a little emotional regrouping and find a way to minimize the negative impact.

We live and we learn. Sigh. Learning is never easy.

CAVEMAN ang gumawa ng t-shirt ko

Ang CAVEMAN ay pwedeng gumawa ng mga t-shirt para sayo, sa lahat ng mga inaanak mo, sa lahat ng miyembro ng inyong organisasyon, at kahit sa buong barangay ninyo! Sabihin mo lang kung ano ang itsura at kung gaano karami.

Kung may mga katanungan tungkol sa t-shirt, sa CAVEMAN, o sa buhay, gawin ang mga sumusunod:

> pumunta sa http://ishg.bravehost.com/caveman
> mag-email sa caveman_ink@yahoogroups.com
> mag-reply sa post na 'to

(Ang CAVEMAN ay nakagawa na ng mga t-shirt para sa mga NGO, student org, atbp.)

don't be a smart ass!

source: http://xkcd.com/c169.html

the bad guy

I had a couple of drinks with my officemates a few hours back, but left the bar earlier than most. Don't get me wrong, I stopped before my limit and made it home in one piece (thank you, high alcohol tolerance). But I felt weird.

It's not so much that I couldn't handle the situation. I just felt like I've outgrown such nights already. Most of my officemates are actually a lot older than me, but the pensive drive home stirred me. No, being younger than them doesn't give me the license to drink. These nights are in fact reminiscent of night outs in the past that are fun at that moment, but probably something I can no longer be proud of. I used to brag about my Quezon-bred drinking skills, but it just doesn't feel right anymore.

The night brought back those memories of someone drunk and in denial driving me home, and that scared me. Other images rushed in my head... of scantily dressed women I personally know grinding in front of me, of empty bottles of beer on the table, of squinting at the sight of rising cigarette smoke. It reminded me of those nights I was actually a tad reckless, contrary to popular notion.

Yes, good girl Vanessa became a bad guy at some point also.

But there comes a point in your life when you just look at those memories, smile with wisdom, and walk away.

TMX

Stands for Tickle Me Xtreme. The new Tickle Me Elmo toy from Fisher-Price celebrates its 10th year with a new Elmo who is, simply put, extreme. Too loud actually that he comes out incredibly annoying. [Let's see if you can stand the video.]

I meant to write so much more about the interesting conversations that resulted from this scandalous little toy --- that is, delve into the many ways adulthood distorts a child's eyes. But yes, judging from the many violent reactions against this toy, let me veer away from the Hydrocephalus Poo, Rabid Pluto, Obscene Donald Duck, etc etc. [Had fun, you two. And I love you, one of you.]

a long list of everything...

It's October 08. The last entry I had was last July 16. So here's a long list of things I will ramble about:

A. THE SHIP HAS SAILED.
I've been working with Maersk Logistics Filipinas as an Import-Export Client Coordinator since August. It's a fancy name, yes, but basically, the work I do entails ensuring that sea mode exports from the Philippines are properly booked, shipped and documented to our nominated accounts in the US, Europe and everywhere else. I'm handling three accounts on my own (Marks and Spencer, Cost Plus and BCBG), while handling half of the work for Target Stores (which in fact eats up the bulk of my time), and soon Walmart and The Pier. [I am so excited for December! We'll get gifts from our shippers!]

Anyway, the first month was pretty slow because they couldn't give me anything to work on just yet. But ever since the turnover of accounts last month, it's been mayhem every week, every day, with only an hour's lunchbreak to keep me sane. Surprisingly, it's not about the difficulty of the work... it's about the amount of work that had to be juggled and done. The team's always working within a strict deadline, and even though I remember being asked sincerely during the job interview why I'm too serious and if I am capable of a little procrastination, turns out this kind of job cannot afford procrastination and mindlessness at all. Or so I think. Wait, maybe it's just me. I noticed that my teammates can detach better from work... well, most of them at least. Lately, I've been going to the office at 8am and closing down the department workstation at 8:30pm or 9pm. Fridays and Mondays are my heaviest days. So when you text me on either of the two days, don't expect an immediate reply.

So, the work started out pretty peachy. After all, I've always wanted this company, this job in particular. You can ask anyone, I'm so crazy (bordering horny) about my work and it shows every time I giggle at the sight of passing container trucks. (Can we say psycho?) But in the middle of the piles of papers I have to deal with everyday, there is a tired spirit, asking if this is the kind of job I can imagine for myself in the long term. As far as I'm concerned, this is merely a stepping stone for me. Hopefully in a year or two, I'll find myself in an Australian University, and shortly afterwards, I'll come home and pursue the business of my dreams. I think my plans are more clear cut than most (but not as spectacular as expected); they're just not expressed that's why I still come across as a lost girl to a lot of people (probably foremost to my family). But hey, the world's my Rockefeller oyster now. And this aphrodisiac's getting me all worked up.

B. OF OLD FRIENDS AND NEW ONES
Being exposed to the office culture affords one a new set of friends, and to people-loving persons such as myself, this is always a thrilling experience. But somehow, I found myself gravitating towards the old friends --- from my high school barkada to such wonderful college friends. The friendship is no longer about physical presence, but more importantly, care and support. Of course, it's always such a comfort to meet up with your old friends and to wind down after a long week of work, to engage in a smorgasbord of topics to talk about --- from college tsismis to finding one's True North in life. But there's an ethereal sense of warmth and "coming home" that you feel around the people you toiled through hell and heaven with during the Wonder Years. I suppose at some point, you settle for having mere acquaintances and not exerting a lot of effort to build profound, lasting relationships. At a certain phase in your life, you choose a few people you can call your bosom friends and nurture them more (quality over quantity). And then, in the process, you discover new things about your old friends --- and nothing's the same anymore.

C. MY IPOD's COMPLAINING. (AND I SHOULD READ MORE)
I haven't been updating the songs on my IPod, and it's been ages since I made a new playlist. Lately, I've been putting the songs on shuffle. I allow myself to a surprise in discovering fantastic songs I already have but never really took the time to listen to. And I deleted all those audiobooks by the way, because I really shouldn't be too lazy to pick up my favorite books and catch up on my reading. Sadly, after 22 years of existence, I'm only coming around to reading The Prince (Machiavelli) and 1984 (Orwell) now. It's a return to the classics to me, after loading up on contemporary fiction (latest one being Farewell Waltz by Kundera).

Back to the IPod, I realized I can only use it for at least five years because the battery has a certain usage limit. So I'll lose all my songs? Nooo! The agony! Such lamentation! Anyway, cut the drama, anyone out there who has more fantastic artists they can introduce to me? I'm up for anything. But these days I've been a Snow Patrol fanatic. Chasing Cars is one of the best underrated songs on airplay by the way, but dude, listen to their entire albums. Really worth your while.

Oh and I hate Paris Hilton. Because she ACTUALLY makes such catchy tunes. Dammit. In fact, if you plaster an unknown personality over the voice, change the video concepts and maintain the music, her songs will be such chart-topping hits. Nakakainis. I can't get "Nothing In This World" out of my head for days now. Kill me now!

And last but definitely not the least.....

D. A WORLD OF RECOGNITION
The world is filled with fear and treachery and apathy, but you can only live and love if you learn to trust (the world and yourself) again. But if you're lucky, you may encounter a person you can connect with in so many levels and save you from your self-inflicted rotting-dom. What do you do if you do find someone who can sum up your existence in a simple gaze, probe into your inner feelings to speak of it and promise, not a perfect life, but a life worth living for? The reality is, we're all tempted to consider time as the final judge of one's readiness to move on from a tainted path and cross over to the greener pastures and bluer skies. But since when have we succumbed to slavery and allow time to carve out our lives? No. We make our lives through our decisions, and not through time. Sure, there is value in patience --- but not if it's driven by fear. It doesn't have to be so melodramatic all the time. People can choose to transcend once more and settle for nothing less than true love. Marcel will bang your head to the wall if you don't understand the importance of hope in a wailing world... such a puzzling concept of holding on to nothing else but a belief that there will be better days, to hope.

I can say I grew more in a span of three months than I ever did in a length of three years. I just needed to be willing to be stripped naked and be clothed in wisdom. Don't get me wrong, I'm not the wisest person in the world... But I know I learned so much the past few months.

And I give due credit to you. For releasing me from an unhealthy imprisonment and offering truth, acceptance, honesty and communication, without losing your uniqueness in the process. Thank you, my wonderful imperator. *cue Orange Sky by Alexi Murdoch*

the dog outlet

I need an outlet. Since a Someone is not advisable at the moment, I'm thinking of a Something I can pour my attention to (read: loving affection).

Therefore, I decided to adopt my sister's neglected Jack Russell Terrier named Russia. I've never had a dog before, so I am pretty new on this subject. (The closest I had for a pet were two turtles. Come on, talk about being affectionate.) Plus, this pretty dog's a tough one to train because she has a dominating personality and she is so NOT a puppy.

But I know this dog's intelligent and I'm hoping she'll be a lot different than any of the dogs that came before. I hope this works. Hehe.

no more emo

i'm tired of being emo and unnecessarily melodramatic about everything.

it ends now. hehe.

If you know how to count and you're up for a little twisted puzzle challenge, check out http://n.nfshost.com/ . Let's see how far you can go. :D