Soledad or Beatrice

Once i hoped that in another universe, or in another dimension or maybe in another lifetime I could be with you for eternity. We may not have been able to make it in this life, but in another we probably could. Don’t you think?

You moved away and for years we’re not talking. Not even a simple hello. But recently, your name appeared again. I can feel the love again through our “haha’s” and “I missed talking to you” phrases. In a few months, you’ll be home you said. You said you want to spend your days here with me, only me. I promised you, “just go home and I’m yours!” when what I really want to say is “I still love you.” But that phrase scared me so i reinvented it by saying “I’ll plan our trips when you get home” or “we’ll play in the arcade again like we used to.”

You’ve always been my Soledad, my God given solace. But you seem to be my Beatrice too, someone I will always love but only from afar.

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Poetry of the Oppressed

Lately, I seem to fall in love with Button Poetry. It’s a group of poets who do performance poetry or I’d like to call it, the artistic performance of the oppressed. The later part is maybe because I think watching the performance poetry regarding oppression are the most stunning performances I’ve seen so far.

The thing that draws me to button poetry is because I love almost all forms of art, from performance arts to literary, to design to prints, photography and so on. I used to participate in creative writing, but kinda lost the passion along the way. I used to think that art is my only way to survive since I grew up troubled. Now I’m 26 and I’m still in trouble in so many ways, I think.

Now I know why I love performance poetry about oppression or why I lost my artistic side. That’s because I, too grow up oppressed. I learned the word silence before I even learned to hear my own voice. I learned that shooting stars are just dead sporadic meteors before I learned how to make sincere wishes. I was pushed to learn the science of everything before I fully enjoyed the wonders of the world. Everything should be properly explained and all actions should always fall into the norm. So I grew up a skeptic which eventually, I didn’t really like. I lost too many people and too many opportunities because I was a skeptic and cynical about almost everything, but mostly, because I grew up afraid that I might do something wrong or that I may not be able to defend or explain why I did what I did. So yeah, I’m still a little bit in trouble.

Despite everything, I learned not to hate the adults that surrounded me when I was little for making me who I am right now. I understand that they also have no idea how to raise a child, especially when that child starts to learn how to think for herself and question the things that surrounds her. But this I promise, if ever I’d be lucky to bring another human form into this world, I would let her/him be whoever she/he wants to be and promise to support her/him whatever the cost. That she/he will be able to choose her/his own identity, whoever she/he wants to love, that she/he can make her/his own mistakes whether she/he can explain it to me or not.

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If I Hadn’t Said Yes To A Few Drinks!

It has been ages since I last wrote something on my blog, but I guess that’s kind of my thing. I do write a lot before. I just don’t publish it ’cause I’m not that confident. I used to be really passionate about writing when I was a kid, but I lost it when I grew up and realized that the world are surrounded by horrible beings. Not all of them though, but most of them. . Especially people at work, people that surround me at my job are ridiculously horrible individuals, arrogant, self-absorbed narcissists who can’t even enumerate the function of their frontal lobe or may not even have the slightest idea that they have one. At first it didn’t bother me, but then their crap started to weigh on me. It slowed me down and made me disgusted at every moment I am surrounded by them (Ugh).  So I requested a change in my duty hours. I like my new shift because most of the time I am left alone, which peacefully allows me to think and be productive. Though I know sooner or later I have to go back to my old shift because so many reasons. So cheers! I’ll probably drink even more when I go back to my old shift.

Well actually, I don’t want to talk about my overly – confident colleagues. They’re not the reason why I’m writing now. The first part was just me venting and I can’t help it. I wanna talk about my drinking. On my previous entry I’m Not Extroverted Unless I had A Few Drinks!”, I talk about the downside of my drinking. Now I will talk about the good sides (huh… a silver lining after all). I used to be a non-affective kind of person. People who are close to me says I’m too hard and I don’t allow anyone to get near me. But not if I’m drunk! No one in my world has imagined that I’ll fall in love just because I said yes to a few drinks. I’m happy with who I am with and I also never have thought that I would be this happy and content. My closest friend say’s I’ve changed a lot since then, in a good way and she’s lucky that I am trying to be the best that I could for her. But I think I’m the one who got lucky here. Most of the time I hurt people because of the brutal honesty that goes out from my mouth and they can’t handle that and I never thought there would be someone who’s willing to be with me because of that. Most importantly, I’m a better person now because she inspires me to be better.

Just to be clear, I’m not encouraging anyone to drink alcohol. What I’m just trying to say is sometimes, it’s okay to loosen up a bit and be carefree or venture into the unknown. As the saying goes, “You can never cross the ocean until you have the courage to lose sight of the shore”.

I’m Not Extroverted Unless I had A Few Drinks!

I am a subtle observer. I do notice what people are doing and how they’re acting when they’re around me, but they don’t usually notice that I’m noticing them. I have quite mastered that art of blending in. It’s not that I intend to spy into other people’s lives, it’s just my way of understanding things. As a result, I do have a lot of perceptions of other people and sometimes I do over-think but it usually doesn’t come out. It just stays on my mind where it’s safe unless I had a few drinks!! I do drink a lot and I’m tactful when I’m drunk. I have said a lot of things that may have hurt a lot of people, I’m not sure though, I usually forget what I’ve said after I’m sober.

I may have hurt someone the last time I was out drinking with my new beer mates. I’m quite not comfortable sharing it, but I think I said things that are really terrible to a particular individual. It wasn’t entirely my faultthough, since it wasn’t me who started it. My mistake was that I may have gone way too far with the subject.

I really don’t know where this is going or how it’s gonna end. I just want to write about it so to remind to be careful next time, especially when I’m on the influence of the alcohol that I love so much.

Catching Up

It’s just January 8 so I guess it’s yet not too late to share my experience last year or just last month. Well, I was baptized and raised as a Roman Catholic and before the 25th we have these 9 days Novena Masses. During the 3rd day, the Priest was talking about not giving up, not giving up on the government, not giving up on being nice even to those who aren’t nice, not giving up on faith, and not giving up on life. It hit me big time since I have doubts and my faith is quite shaking. I don’t know if anyone can relate, but I have a lot of questions like, if there’s a gracious and loving God, then why has He allowed bad things to happen to good people, or why has He ignored all those brutalities happening around the world where the government suppresses its own peoples’ rights and kills them like cattle’s in a slaughter house. And if they say God is gracious and merciful like He is, is He gonna punish me for having thoughts like these. Don’t get me wrong, I want to believe that there is something out there. Something bigger than what we can understand, something who’s power is bigger than what we can fathom, whose infinity is so much bigger than ours. I think believing in the Supreme Being looking over us is a comfort to this cruel world, but is He really looking over us, I’m not so sure. I also despise the idea of heaven and hell where the heaven is a reward for those who did good things and hell is a punishment for those who didn’t do so much. When I give food to the hungry, I don’t look up and say to the heavens “You owe me one,” and when I do bad things, I don’t look down and say “I’m getting near!” Basically, I wanna own up the things I do in this mortal world. I do whatever I think is right and when things turned out to be wrong, no regrets. At least at that moment, I did what I think was right.

I may not be a faithful member of the church (or however you wanna label me) but I believed what the priest said, about not giving up. It kind of relates to my blogging too. I haven’t written anything for like ages. So sharing these thoughts I kept for myself is my way of not giving up.

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This is the first time I said these thoughts out loud or at least typed it in words.

The Writer in Me

I was trying to write a new blog about customer service or contact centers like I used to but I’m really not into it. It just sucks! Forgive my language. So on my third cup of coffee, I thought I’ll just write something, like whatever comes into mind. I’m not really a professional when it comes to stuffs like this. I used to really like writing when I was young though. I remember, I tried using a type writer even if computers were already available because it makes me feel like an authentic writer. Then I grew up! I also outgrew all those passions and imagination of a lost world inside my own thoughts. I used to say this as a joke, “my biggest mistake in life was when I decided to grow up. I wish I was forever a kid!”The world was a lot colorful when I was a kid.

When I went to college, I majored in BS Psychology. Psychology was really fun for me, but the decision why I took up the course was a decision not really clear to me either. Maybe it was because of my interest to learn about people, their motives, and what drives a human person to do what he did. However, it was also the stage where I struggled different emotional breakdowns. I mastered the art of pushing feelings away and it made me stiffer than I expected. I focused myself to knowledge based on facts and evidence. I only saw the black and the white and refuses to see the gray in the middle. I hated and argued people who’s logic for me is distorted or different. But the writer inside me still tries to break free. My thesis professor used to say to me that my research was written in a little bit dramatic fashion. Well, let me tell you a secret, I included drama on it to make it a little longer. I was always drunk that time so I used to start writing my research a night before the deadline, still under the influence of alcohol.

Then I started to work for a living. Now I’m working as a SEO specialist and a social media expert for a contact center and it’s software company. My position requires me to bring out the writer in me again. At first I was thrilled because it felt like I’ll be doing something once so familiar to me. Later on, I started flailing. It’s so difficult to work on something related to your job when your head is somewhere else. I always had these moments when I just stare blankly to my computer screen not understanding whatever I’m looking at. Right now I’m addicted to the band “Of Monsters and Men” and their lyrics are so deep and I think to myself, why can they be so artistic incorporating rhythm to words and here I am, couldn’t figure out how to finish a paragraph on a topic I’m so familiar with?! And I have no idea how to finish this article either!

Ironic, isn’t it? Maybe I just need to talk to someone, or maybe I’ll try drinking before coming to work (Of course, I can’t do that because I’ll loose my job). But just a thought, maybe alcohol can again bring out the drama and the writer in me. I remembered a line from a show I am watching, the main character said, “Truth is a battle of perception. We are only willing to believe what we are ready to confront. Sometimes, it’s not what we look at that matters, it’s how we see it.” But what if what you’re looking at doesn’t make sense to you or what you are seeing is beyond your own understanding?

I would like to apologize to people who would stumble into this article. I know, this article seems to be just my way of venting out my frustrations. But I think I have always love writing like how I love music, books, and the artistic way of life so I choose to write and be artistic even in the deepest moments of my melancholia.

And forgive the contrast of the image. This was taken a long, long time ago. It just brought back a lot of memories…

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