I've been listening to a friend's sentiments lately. Well, perhaps not really a friend, but a mentor whom I've come to know more and more in the last couple of months or so. This friend-mentor has been having some sort of personal a.k.a. love problems and I found myself to be at the listening end, not unlike most of the times that he has been "teaching" me the ways and means of our own little "corporate world".
And so of course since these are his sentiments, I am not at liberty to divulge anything. I was, and I am, just listening. Always listening.
During one of our "listening conversations", I came to stumble upon this odd reality that while I was there trying to understand what he was saying, my mind was somewhere else. Somewhere between trying to make sense of his words and perhaps trying to make sense of my own thoughts too.
So lost I was in our jargon of thoughts and words when I heard myself asking, "Why, just how young is she?" And perhaps he said, "About twenty-ish." Not too young. But not old enough either, I said to myself.
What is this thing about age and maturity that seem to nag me from within? If I don't get answers soon, I might just try to turn myself inside-out to see perhaps if I could get the answers then. Yeah, what is this age and maturity? And love?
Ah, love. So you see, it was after all about this eternal topic called love. Yeech. Who would've thougth I'd be writing something like this at a point in my life where I'm still just trying to pick the pieces back up. Yeech. Talk about eternal masochism too.
Does age really matter? No. Maturity? No. Lies! Love moves-in mysterious ways? Cut that crap please..As my conscience would put it, "No Jennifer, mystery is one fool's fragment of stupid imagination".
Had I not stopped myself, I would have told my friend-mentor right away that it was almost too difficult to bridge a gap that will always be there. And I am not talking about age here. None too shallow like that. Age is just the sign. Maturity is the upshot. And if at this fundamental stage, two people don't or can't catch up with each other and would still try to wrap things up, then they've got themselves entwined with life's masochisms.
So. Am I trying to know anything and everything about love here then? Nah..I'm no expert. Who is? But perhaps I just wanted to let my friend know that I listened.
I listened well enough that I began to see my life's sentiments through his words. But perhaps I also listened a little too much that I forgot to speak up and say, "I've been there, has just been there. You may want to save yourself the effort..."
Wednesday, June 29, 2005
Monday, June 27, 2005
good times in the life of jing
- *reading old Archie Comics on lazy, rainy Sunday mornings
- *taking a wrong turn at an unfamiliar street and i find an old shop for things I've always wanted to buy but always didn't have the time to
- *riding a taxicab with a pleasant driver who doesn't speak much and gives back exact change
- *waking up to the smell of my favorite breakfast
- *closing my eyes while taking a warm shower
- *finding old friends in strange, lonely corners of the big city
- *riding up a bus and i find the front seats empty
- *long breakfast talks with my sister
- *getting myself lost in the hardware store where I could have the time in the world tinkering with sparkly, little knobby things
- *smell of an old library on a hot summer day
- *writing about anything and everything on late insomiac's night
- *going home to a house with super clean and sparkling floors
- *sleeping on a well-made bed (knowing I didn't make them when I left them this morning)
- *organizing my weekly DVD's-to-watch schedule
- *going to work knowing that tomorrow is payday
- *writing something for my blog knowing that YOU are going to read it! :)
Wednesday, June 22, 2005
No Hope
I moved into my new apartment about 2 months ago. It was bigger, more expensive and much more comfortable than the pad I've lived in for about 3 years. I was maybe a little too busy enjoying my new pseudo-home that I really havent gotten around to unpacking those "extra boxes" of burloluys (bits and ends).
A few days ago, I was lazying around in my new room thinking about the future when I remembered that I was on my way to my 6th month in my new job. Here comes regularization. Not to mention big bonuses and increases. Then I began to remember that I haven't filed for a TIN transfer yet. (See, my new company wants to make sure that all its employees file in their branch- so I have to transfer BIR's -since my branch is in Makati and their's is in Ortigas--Weird. Are'nt we allowed to file in any branch?) Wait, I'm digressing.
So there, I was lazying around when I suddenly found it important to look for my BIR papers. It should be inside one of those unpacked boxes under my stairs, I said to myself. I almost wished I was brazen enough to face tax evasion lest I find myself rummaging through those things which I now wish I haven't brought along. See, anything and everything were in there. From old, unread magazines to unworn bracelets gifts that have tarnished through the months. (For the love of god, whe did I even think of bringing these along in the first place?) And so I hauled my lazy ass off and began the dreaded obligation of unpacking those seemingly useless-important stuff.
Of course, whenever I try to poke around old things, I never can resist the temptation of reading and browing through everything. I fiddled with an old alarm clock. Read through some notes in college. I had a blast examining old loveletters. And before I knew it, I was taking a trip through time.
I found an old poem which really meant a lot to me back then. Back then means the days when everything was just in shambles and I couldn't seem to make up my mind with what I want to do with my life. Here, I just wanted to share it:
No Hope
I've tried everything
Been there,
Done that
But not Hope
Never Hope
I started with Winstons
Reds first, then lights
Shifted to Marlboros
Reds, to be exact
It went on and on
'Til I tried menthols
The green ones
Yes, those cool ones
But then there was Phillip Morris
Greener ones, cooler ones
And so I did that too
'Til I found out that
Menthols could impotent you
So I went back to reds
That seductive Marlborto Red
So alluring, so inspiring,
So...red.
But then the Golds came out
Marlboro Gold...so elegant
So timeless
So...gold
It hit home
And I felt it
I liked it
I never really felt Hope
Because Inever really had Hope
No Hope
Never Hope
(May 30, 2002)
Things have changed since then. Things are much, much better now. But I think it still helps to look back every once in a while. The poem above still holds the same emotion as when the night that I wrote it. I don't think its ever gonna go away. The past is like that sometimes. I think it has its own way of keeping up in one way or another. And oh, in my case, it had to be through old boxes under my staircase.
By the way, I was able to retrieve my BIR/TIN papers. The thing is, I still haven't filed for my TIN transfer yet. Haha, I'd better hurry lest it catches up with me too.
A few days ago, I was lazying around in my new room thinking about the future when I remembered that I was on my way to my 6th month in my new job. Here comes regularization. Not to mention big bonuses and increases. Then I began to remember that I haven't filed for a TIN transfer yet. (See, my new company wants to make sure that all its employees file in their branch- so I have to transfer BIR's -since my branch is in Makati and their's is in Ortigas--Weird. Are'nt we allowed to file in any branch?) Wait, I'm digressing.
So there, I was lazying around when I suddenly found it important to look for my BIR papers. It should be inside one of those unpacked boxes under my stairs, I said to myself. I almost wished I was brazen enough to face tax evasion lest I find myself rummaging through those things which I now wish I haven't brought along. See, anything and everything were in there. From old, unread magazines to unworn bracelets gifts that have tarnished through the months. (For the love of god, whe did I even think of bringing these along in the first place?) And so I hauled my lazy ass off and began the dreaded obligation of unpacking those seemingly useless-important stuff.
Of course, whenever I try to poke around old things, I never can resist the temptation of reading and browing through everything. I fiddled with an old alarm clock. Read through some notes in college. I had a blast examining old loveletters. And before I knew it, I was taking a trip through time.
I found an old poem which really meant a lot to me back then. Back then means the days when everything was just in shambles and I couldn't seem to make up my mind with what I want to do with my life. Here, I just wanted to share it:
No Hope
I've tried everything
Been there,
Done that
But not Hope
Never Hope
I started with Winstons
Reds first, then lights
Shifted to Marlboros
Reds, to be exact
It went on and on
'Til I tried menthols
The green ones
Yes, those cool ones
But then there was Phillip Morris
Greener ones, cooler ones
And so I did that too
'Til I found out that
Menthols could impotent you
So I went back to reds
That seductive Marlborto Red
So alluring, so inspiring,
So...red.
But then the Golds came out
Marlboro Gold...so elegant
So timeless
So...gold
It hit home
And I felt it
I liked it
I never really felt Hope
Because Inever really had Hope
No Hope
Never Hope
(May 30, 2002)
Things have changed since then. Things are much, much better now. But I think it still helps to look back every once in a while. The poem above still holds the same emotion as when the night that I wrote it. I don't think its ever gonna go away. The past is like that sometimes. I think it has its own way of keeping up in one way or another. And oh, in my case, it had to be through old boxes under my staircase.
By the way, I was able to retrieve my BIR/TIN papers. The thing is, I still haven't filed for my TIN transfer yet. Haha, I'd better hurry lest it catches up with me too.
Saturday, June 18, 2005
I Really Don't Hate You - but go.
Hate is such a strong word-especially if you are saying this to a person you dont really hate. A person you may even love.
I've told that to someone recenty. I said, "I hate you". Not only once but repeatedly so.
Why? Why did I say it?
Because I wanted you to go already. No point staying when separation is inevitable.
Inevitable.
I've told that to someone recenty. I said, "I hate you". Not only once but repeatedly so.
Why? Why did I say it?
Because I wanted you to go already. No point staying when separation is inevitable.
Inevitable.
Friday, June 10, 2005
on cigarettes, youth and old age
I was supposed to have stopped smoking 2 years ago. Supposed to Have. Three BIG words to indicate I have not really. Not really.
Oh well, about 5 years ago, smoking for me meant one pack a night and another one in the morning. Guess what, that stopped. But the smoking didn't.
5 years ago, smoking meant having a real good time with friends. Gimik days and nights in a seemingly endless world of fun and frolic. That too, is over. Sadly, the smoking isn't.
I've been on and off on this road called quitting. I would not really mind not having the old fun and frolics. I don't mind not going out on gimiks anymore. What I do mind is not being able to do a simple MIND OVER MATTER JOB!
Smoking is bad for me. It stinks. Its un-hygienic. It makes me lose sleep. It makes me gain weight. It could give me cancer. Simply put, smoking is bad for me. Read that? Baaadd..!
So why do I put up with it? No reason. Just plain stupidity. Oh yeah, that and insanity.
I had this insane plan before to die by 30. Im 26 years old now. Four years are a bit too short for me to continue living in the meantime. Most plans are still in the making. And more dreams are yet to be taken. No way, I cant die by 30.
That's why I stopped smoking so much. These days, Ive cut back to 2-3 sticks a day. At that rate, I'd still probably be alive by my 40's. If I'm real lucky, I might even reach 50. Now, fifty-ish is not a bad age to die.
I dont want to grow too old. Im scared. See, I've lived such a colorful and fast life and I've made it a point to enjoy youth as much as life permitted. I cling to that youth. To my dear old youth. I probably clung too hard that I couldnt imagine life growing old on me. No siree.
I'd rather die.
Oh well, about 5 years ago, smoking for me meant one pack a night and another one in the morning. Guess what, that stopped. But the smoking didn't.
5 years ago, smoking meant having a real good time with friends. Gimik days and nights in a seemingly endless world of fun and frolic. That too, is over. Sadly, the smoking isn't.
I've been on and off on this road called quitting. I would not really mind not having the old fun and frolics. I don't mind not going out on gimiks anymore. What I do mind is not being able to do a simple MIND OVER MATTER JOB!
Smoking is bad for me. It stinks. Its un-hygienic. It makes me lose sleep. It makes me gain weight. It could give me cancer. Simply put, smoking is bad for me. Read that? Baaadd..!
So why do I put up with it? No reason. Just plain stupidity. Oh yeah, that and insanity.
I had this insane plan before to die by 30. Im 26 years old now. Four years are a bit too short for me to continue living in the meantime. Most plans are still in the making. And more dreams are yet to be taken. No way, I cant die by 30.
That's why I stopped smoking so much. These days, Ive cut back to 2-3 sticks a day. At that rate, I'd still probably be alive by my 40's. If I'm real lucky, I might even reach 50. Now, fifty-ish is not a bad age to die.
I dont want to grow too old. Im scared. See, I've lived such a colorful and fast life and I've made it a point to enjoy youth as much as life permitted. I cling to that youth. To my dear old youth. I probably clung too hard that I couldnt imagine life growing old on me. No siree.
I'd rather die.
Tuesday, June 07, 2005
the city hums
the city hums as we sleep. have you ever woken up from a deep slumber and find yourself in the velvet darkness of the night? that's when everyone's asleep. and your world just breathes steadily with just barely a sound. the city hums...
and you get up to get something to drink. soft light from the night light embraces your sleepy eyes. and you open your fridge and pour yourself a drink. aahh..cold water to quench the dry throat. to satisfy those parched lips.
you close your eyes as you drink. and you hear yourself take a gulp. for a moment the time stops. interrupted only by the sound your gulps make. and then its over. you look around and the humming begins again.
so soft a hum that its not even a sound. its like the world breathing on its own.
and you find it so peaceful.
calming.
its one of those rare times that the city is just like any other place in the heavens. everything makes sense. and the mind steers clear from all the hustles and bustles.
and you think to yourself, hey, this is what life is all about. it is about finding meaning to nothing and everything in the world. it's about making sense of this big jigsaw that we weave for ourselves..
its about finding perfection in all things imperfect.
its 3:30 AM now. and i've just woken up with the hum.
have a wonderful day.
and you get up to get something to drink. soft light from the night light embraces your sleepy eyes. and you open your fridge and pour yourself a drink. aahh..cold water to quench the dry throat. to satisfy those parched lips.
you close your eyes as you drink. and you hear yourself take a gulp. for a moment the time stops. interrupted only by the sound your gulps make. and then its over. you look around and the humming begins again.
so soft a hum that its not even a sound. its like the world breathing on its own.
and you find it so peaceful.
calming.
its one of those rare times that the city is just like any other place in the heavens. everything makes sense. and the mind steers clear from all the hustles and bustles.
and you think to yourself, hey, this is what life is all about. it is about finding meaning to nothing and everything in the world. it's about making sense of this big jigsaw that we weave for ourselves..
its about finding perfection in all things imperfect.
its 3:30 AM now. and i've just woken up with the hum.
have a wonderful day.
Monday, June 06, 2005
stormy seas
i got the text. i read it as soon as i got up. retrieved my missed calls too. frankly, i was surprised. its been a week already. the first 2 or 3 days i must admit i was kinda' waiting for it to come. but no calls. not even a text. so when i got these today, i didn't reply.
it's not revenge. no remorse here. its just that i find it pathetically pathetic (is there even such term?) to even keep our ties anymore. no explanations. end of story. period.
who-a! i am not usually this bitchy.. but i do have my own reasons why i decided to do what i did.
i want to take a long break away from the hustles of the city for even just a minute. this tired soul shouts rest. too bad the rainy days are here again. i would've wanted to swim naked in an equally bare-naked sea.
oh yeah, i forgot i like the ocean better when it's all wet and stormy. i specially like it when the waters swell and become dark and scary. i would imagine myself being engulfed and it swallows me into its depths while i sleep and sleep and sleep...
it's not revenge. no remorse here. its just that i find it pathetically pathetic (is there even such term?) to even keep our ties anymore. no explanations. end of story. period.
who-a! i am not usually this bitchy.. but i do have my own reasons why i decided to do what i did.
i want to take a long break away from the hustles of the city for even just a minute. this tired soul shouts rest. too bad the rainy days are here again. i would've wanted to swim naked in an equally bare-naked sea.
oh yeah, i forgot i like the ocean better when it's all wet and stormy. i specially like it when the waters swell and become dark and scary. i would imagine myself being engulfed and it swallows me into its depths while i sleep and sleep and sleep...
Sunday, June 05, 2005
for you -who is not here
smile thru the sadness
sound and safe always
peace of mind in this crazy world
sense out of the chaos
contentment and fulfillment
dreams and longings realized
long life
bliss
simplicity
relief
and best of all, yes, best of all- -
self-worth
these--and more--for YOU who is not here.
anymore.
sound and safe always
peace of mind in this crazy world
sense out of the chaos
contentment and fulfillment
dreams and longings realized
long life
bliss
simplicity
relief
and best of all, yes, best of all- -
self-worth
these--and more--for YOU who is not here.
anymore.
bus rides
i am an urban commuter. and with all the smoke and smog and traffic of the metro, i am proud tosay that i am an urban commuter who actually enjoys being one.
it was raining cats and dogs tonight (elephants and rhinoceros would be more like it since the
heavens were practically pouring). and there i was, the loyal commuter who was trying to get a
ride somewhere near GMA-Kamuning.
H2O everywhere. I was practically drenched down to my soul. headlights blinding. horns blaring.
shoes soaked til the socks clung to my ankles. puddles of brackish liquid have puddled on the
road and some drops splash unto me when a vehicle passes by really fast...and guess what?
i was enjoying every bit of second of it.
why?
because i love commuting.
what?
i do. it gives me a sense of freedom. it allows me to let my thoughts roam free while watching
everything and everyone else pass by. commuting allows me to go from one place to another without really doing anything about it. i just sit there. pay my fare. and not have a care in the world.
i know most people would find me weird. a lot of my friends would be choosing to drive their cars
instead of commuting. i don't conform. i know of a person who actually goes on long bus
rides along EDSA whenever he feels the compulsion to write. he is a well-known screenwriter. he claims he gets inspired by watching buses and cars passing him by. so i guess im not too weird after all huh?
speaking of buses now kinda' reminds me of a song i really liked when i was in college.
"so i got under a bus. i got hit by a
train..la-di-dah-didah..it felt so good. i wanna do
it again."
i used to sing it real out loud when i had fights with my mom before. i don't fight with my mom anymore. not so much anyway. they say there's always a point in one's life when we fight so much with our parents. maybe its part of growing. now i've grown-up. or have i?
maybe.
i could go on and on telling you things i've done and places i've been to. if growing can be measured by that, then i could indeed say that i'm a grown-up already. i've been to many places in this lifetime. and long as i can remember, i've been riding buses all my life. i guess as i continue to grow and go places, i'll never stop being a commuter.
and come rain, hell or high waters and busy streets, i don't think i'll ever get tired of life's bus rides.
it was raining cats and dogs tonight (elephants and rhinoceros would be more like it since the
heavens were practically pouring). and there i was, the loyal commuter who was trying to get a
ride somewhere near GMA-Kamuning.
H2O everywhere. I was practically drenched down to my soul. headlights blinding. horns blaring.
shoes soaked til the socks clung to my ankles. puddles of brackish liquid have puddled on the
road and some drops splash unto me when a vehicle passes by really fast...and guess what?
i was enjoying every bit of second of it.
why?
because i love commuting.
what?
i do. it gives me a sense of freedom. it allows me to let my thoughts roam free while watching
everything and everyone else pass by. commuting allows me to go from one place to another without really doing anything about it. i just sit there. pay my fare. and not have a care in the world.
i know most people would find me weird. a lot of my friends would be choosing to drive their cars
instead of commuting. i don't conform. i know of a person who actually goes on long bus
rides along EDSA whenever he feels the compulsion to write. he is a well-known screenwriter. he claims he gets inspired by watching buses and cars passing him by. so i guess im not too weird after all huh?
speaking of buses now kinda' reminds me of a song i really liked when i was in college.
"so i got under a bus. i got hit by a
train..la-di-dah-didah..it felt so good. i wanna do
it again."
i used to sing it real out loud when i had fights with my mom before. i don't fight with my mom anymore. not so much anyway. they say there's always a point in one's life when we fight so much with our parents. maybe its part of growing. now i've grown-up. or have i?
maybe.
i could go on and on telling you things i've done and places i've been to. if growing can be measured by that, then i could indeed say that i'm a grown-up already. i've been to many places in this lifetime. and long as i can remember, i've been riding buses all my life. i guess as i continue to grow and go places, i'll never stop being a commuter.
and come rain, hell or high waters and busy streets, i don't think i'll ever get tired of life's bus rides.
Saturday, June 04, 2005
a good movie and an ice cream
i've been visiting a lot of blogs these past few days. its probably the reason why i was inspired to write another one of my ever-so-rare entries. i really think i can be open enough to keep a real blog this time around.
i rode the bus this morning. it has been a habit to always get the seat nearest the driver. after all, if and when an accident happens, the driver gets to save his own ass first, right? so there i was, sitting peacefully and silently watching the 6 a.m. saturday commuters when some old songs played on the radio. really old songs. it got me into a reverie back when those songs were top hits for the day.
shet tanda ko na pala.
as i sat there watching an almost empty EDSA pass by, i got into thinking where could all the years have gone? i almost didn't notice the life and times gone by. was i too busy to care? or was maybe too jaded to feel?
nah, i wasn't into an emotive mood today. i just wondering if perhaps there could have been something else about this life of mine. something that i forgot to notice. something i missed...
perhaps i shouldn't be thinking too much about this. i could crack my skull and spill my brains out but there are things you just don't have answers to. see, i've always been searching for something. i never really understood why. but there seemed to be something always lacking. perhaps i should just be satisfied with a good movie and a pint of ice cream.
perhaps.
perhaps not.
i rode the bus this morning. it has been a habit to always get the seat nearest the driver. after all, if and when an accident happens, the driver gets to save his own ass first, right? so there i was, sitting peacefully and silently watching the 6 a.m. saturday commuters when some old songs played on the radio. really old songs. it got me into a reverie back when those songs were top hits for the day.
shet tanda ko na pala.
as i sat there watching an almost empty EDSA pass by, i got into thinking where could all the years have gone? i almost didn't notice the life and times gone by. was i too busy to care? or was maybe too jaded to feel?
nah, i wasn't into an emotive mood today. i just wondering if perhaps there could have been something else about this life of mine. something that i forgot to notice. something i missed...
perhaps i shouldn't be thinking too much about this. i could crack my skull and spill my brains out but there are things you just don't have answers to. see, i've always been searching for something. i never really understood why. but there seemed to be something always lacking. perhaps i should just be satisfied with a good movie and a pint of ice cream.
perhaps.
perhaps not.
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