left-handed wanders

I was about to sleep you know. Cause heyyy its after midnight and I have work tomorrow…but no. But I really should sleep, been late for work for two months already? It doesn’t matter—the attendance…thick skinned I maybe, I make amends. Yet I really have to sleep but I am just a bundle of emotions tonight. And no degree of time would make it go away for the moment—before or after.

Nice to see that my “Theory” series has been realized though it isn’t finished yet (sorry forgot to append “to be concluded in the end) will try to fish it out of me over the weekend, though I don’t think it’s possible there’s so much stuff to do…work, life, apps and I’m not even in Makati anymore. I have to get a grip on my work sched…been cramming since day one, probably till the day I die.

My throat is parched, I’m thirsty but the ref’s an awful lot of steps away. But the fan compels me to type. Something, anything…you know.

I confess I’m a bit pressured on how to end the Theory serial. Can’t seem to find an appropriate end to it. I must say I’m rooting for a dark ending but might change my mind. I cannot wait to reread this piece when I turn 30…I’ll even comment on it something like, “You fool!”

I couldn’t decide on a life altering decision again. So I’ll do it anyway, regrets and problems later. Woot!

Lookin’ forward to Friday night
& to this life

ok. That’s it sleeping na

“France it is!”

Those words flashed on my celfone screen once.

“France it is!”

Indeed.

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My desire to go abroad is a part of myself that still proves to be insatiable. Somehow that pagan instinct of our ancestors, being hunters and gatherers, is somewhat hardwired in my brain—that wanderlust. I feel it constantly. Sometimes I manage not to think about it but when it strikes, especially in unguarded moments, I’m left helpless.

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As I’ve expressed in previous posts before I have developed these mental atmospheres of foreign lands in my brain. And somehow I find myself drawn to European cities. And for as long as I don’t set foot on those faraway places, these mental images will still haunt me.

I wish it wouldn’t be like Marcel and “Phaedra”. But they would be just as I imagined them to be, even better.

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Why don’t I do something about it then?

It is true when JP tells us that, “We are not simply our facticity….”
It has always been a message of hope for me. That somehow I can choose to rise from it all. That somehow I can choose to rebel. But believing in that phrase makes you face a double-edged sword. It involves an actual struggle. And this struggle cements an obvious fact: Yes, we are simply not our facticity BUT we also cannot escape from it.

Bummer.

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When things go bad at home, school or wherever, my wishful failsafe plan has always been to escape, to London, to Paris, to Tokyo—you name it.

“Anywhere but here.”

But I’m always forced to face things head on. No matter how much I didn’t want to (no matter how cumbersome, ugly, forsaken), I am just forced to live and deal with it. There was no resthouse in Tagaytay for me, no vacation in the US, not even my own room that I claim to myself…no. All I had was a crappy shack, on a funny sounding street. Sometimes I even dreaded coming home. It depressed me to see its decaying roof and the bleached wooden exterior. Heck! It isn’t even ours.

I resented this very much when I was young. It toughened me up inside. And it made me rely on my imagination almost to a point of gross exaggeration. Books and movies helped a lot. I do not know how could I’ve managed to live without them. They offered different worldviews for me…proof that at some part of the world things were good, things were beautiful.

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This resentment I carried when I came to college.

I must say, college made me think big. It was there where I met classmates who are far different from what I’ve been used to. In elementary and highschool,my classmates and I shared a similar class background. But in Diliman I saw, I saw first hand how money could make your life roll. How affluent families had sensibilities different from my own. How my classmates who had doctors, lawyers, engineers, architects for parents grew up differently from me. And how much (I remember), I wanted a piece of it.
And so I placed all my bets on this myth of a great life after college, how the world and its prizes are mine for the taking…

I felt that the Philippines owed me a premium once I graduated. So I studied hard. Cause in this lifetime, that’s my only chance of making it big. No safety nets, no trust funds, no family business…If I blew it then I’m done for.

I got ahead of myself.

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So on the evening that I received that text message. A few months after leaving Makati…made me question my decision of giving up the dream in the first place. I couldn’t help but wonder how my cards would’ve played out if I chose to stay in Advertising…what if I actually won the prize to Cannes too?

If it happened to a close friend, why can’t it happen to me? And to France of all places!

Again, I got ahead of myself.

Sino ba ako?
Ako si Jedi, panganay na anak ng dalawang haiskul gradweyts na ginapang at sinakap nilang pagtapusin ng kolehiyo.

Hindi pa ba sapat saken yun? At nandito ako ngayon at nagrereklamo na hindi ako makabili-bili ng tiket papuntang ibang bansa para magbakasyon? Na wala silang pantustos para ipagpatuloy ko pa ang aking pag-aaral sa banyagang unibersidad? Na kailangan ko pa intindihan and food and living expenses kahit makakuha pa ako ng iskolarship?

Na kailangan kong mag-sikap, mag-ipon at magtrabaho para lamang makamit ito samantalang may mga katulad ko namang binibigay at inaalok sa kanila kahit hindi nila gusto?

Pinili ko na mag-iba ng career at dahil dito iba na ang daan na aking tinatahak. Bagama’t hindi ko alam kung kung kelan, saan, at paano may iba pang paraan para makita ang mundo.

Wala akong premium na dapat hingin.

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Up to this point in my life…I move in places that barely constitute a jeepney ride to fathom. I walked to my elementary school, I took a tricyle to highschool, and I took a jeep to college. And now that I’m working, I commute not far from my college.

So I’ve come to feel that I exist inside this bubble. Bauby’s diving bell. Where all I could do is to stare out:

And Feel that dreamy feeling when I watch a BBC reporter broadcasting from a tube station in England, seeing that bright red double-decker bus passing from behind…with the words, “the London sightseeing tour”

And feel that melancholy rush when I look up in the sky, and see a plane flying overheard, up up and away…

And feel the wave of inferiority and envy when people talk about their travels abroad.

Does the world look in?

or "Sa Piling ng mga Heswita"

1

I woke up after a huge row with my dad.
This basically meant:

A couple or all the neighbors stirred in the middle of the night
I almost got punched in the face
My mac almost got chucked out of the window

My dad has a very bad temper. These rage episodes happen rarely but when they do you can expect them leaving marks around the house: A whole in the door (yeah), a smashed stereo unit, an expensive celfone in bits etc

In short he can be an asshole.

You can reason with him all you want but once he dons this oversized-male-horny-gorilla-protecting-his-territory suit, well, you gotta run.

Last night, our path crossed once again. I admit, even if I’m older now and make my own money I must say I’m still scared of my old man. He is sensitive almost to the point of being immature with superhuman strength. And I gotta tell you it isn’t a very good combination.

The reasons that trigger these anger bursts are often than not silly. And last night wasn’t different.

2
When I left my first job, during the time I gave my resignation letter, I wasn’t planning to work anytime soon. I mused on the idea of being a bum for awhile because I was just exhausted. But events played out differently-I got a job at "the" Ateneo.

2.1
Ateneo has the rich peeps as patron. The stereotypes? believe it! It is true. But I question myself if I could blame them? After all it isn’t their fault that they’re rich. Though I must stress that not all of them–2%? 10? hehehe Ateneans are definitely not my crowd.
But I’ve gotta say they have brains. They have everything!

The earliest memories of my Ateneo awareness was during elementary at our friendly neighborhood public school. Ateneo had this "Tulong Dunong" program where in highschool Ateneans reached out and tutor the lowlifes of this earth. I wasn’t chosen to attend those "special" classes though I couldn’t remember if there was any criteria for selection (defensive!). Those who weren’t attending/the rest of the class were sent to toil in the fields. This meant being ordered to tidy up the vegetable gardens, heap up and dig compost pits or polish every fuckin’ wooden surface.

Ateneo was a gated community for me. But I sometimes thought how would it be like if I was just like them…I guess I’d be a snobby brat too but with very very good taste.

2.1.1
I somehow despise these outreach programs of private schools. I don’t know what benefit can rich kids derive from knowing that they’re definitely rich, that they’re definitely different. Pity? Joy? Suffering? shabby guilt trip? For me. As long as by the end of the day, you still go home in your fancy car, still order your uniformed maids around, or still kiss your mom&dad off to a benefit dinner…well…

2.2
My creative director an Ateneo alumna, she’s an exception (save!), offered me a job opening at the Ateneo.  I was to apply as a graphic designer for a foundation by the Jesuits. Though I wasn’t really serious about it I agreed to be interviewed.

Why?

a. At least hindi naman kahihiyan pag sinabi kong sa Ateneo ako nagtratrabaho
people immediately assume as teacher hehehe but no, I immediately confess that staff ako
(na kumakain mismo sa kamay ng mga Atenista.)

b. It’s like a 10 minute trip from my house! OMG!

c. An academic setting (which I love) and offcourse the nice facilities.

d. To find deeper meaning in my life? Heck! to find God?

I remember how my CD even drew a map for me. And how, upon seeing it, kinda flipped to find that I was supposed to tread a road called "Seminary Drive". I don’t know if it’s a joke but seryoso pwera bola nagbalak din kasi ako maging pastor bago ako mag-college. Hehehe I was a Jesus freak during my high school days. This is a fact that I don’t feel ashamed off. Was God telling me something?

So I went, and eventually I came to work for the Jesuits, when analyzed further, for God.
as they say, AMDG

3
I don’t know. Since I became obsessed with trying to do something meaningful with my time on earth…I couldn’t answer if my time at Ateneo was worth something. Because to some degree, you have to believe in what you do and during the early days of my stay, I was in doubt. Cause somehow, I seemed to question the wealth of the Jesuit order, how mostly rich kids could afford the kind of education they provide etc. etc. How religion played a sinister role during the Spanish colonial period…

Where did God and I stand?

4
As time passed, I’ve gotta say I liked it there. There’s still politics but alam mo yun, parang away bahay lang. I think it’s because money isn’t such a big deal cause we really don’t have much to begin with. Mainly, almost, we’re volunteers. It’s like we’re just one big family. And my big boss, a Jesuit is someone that I respect.

4.1
Jesuits are fascinating. They’re a big order, dating far back in history and man, they’re very intelligent. They devote a huge deal in the pursuit of knowledge. Cause pursuing knowledge as one Fr. told me is a way of glorifying God. Sometimes they scare me a little, cause somehow you can’t help but picture them as Plato’s Philosopher kings–Yeah. And the names they use: novices; philosophers; scholars; Fathers; magis, lotsa of Latin stuff etc. sometimes sound a little cult-y.

I find it weird sometimes when I call my boss Fr. no matter how you say it, it always feels like a sign of submission–divine submission, "Yes, Father" - like "Thy will be done" as if nothing’s impossible cause no other than God Himself is sanctioning it. Weird. But I like them, them Jesuits. They’re still people, some are weird, some are not so pleasant but its nice that I’ve mostly met great ones. And I liked to hear the stories they told, they’re vocations stories hehehe and the occasional theology lesson when a Jesuit is hanging out in our dept. I liked how they see the bible as a piece of literature. And as literary techniques abound, just like the bible it employs the elements of literature…convenient but it makes sense to me.

5
So I woke up this morning after the fight last night. Eyes a little sore from shedding a tear no matter how I tried to hold it back. And I remembered that our new TV Mass show was on TV this morning. I watched. I smiled when I saw the title card I made a few days ago being flashed on the screen…I smiled some more when I saw the preliminary observations raised before the pilot aired, "Fr shift kayo ng shift ng mike, parang radyo…next time punasan ang pawis ni Fr, waterfalls!…I laughed when I saw my office mates as extras…how when the camera shifted to the audience you saw familiar faces…laughed again when I heard my voice reciting the recorded responsorial psalm…hehehe and the homily: finding God in the smallest of things. How Elijah found the presence of God in the whisper of the wind.

I felt better, somehow things were going to be okey. I felt that, seeing what we made on TV. And it made me wonder, how many people were tuned in like me on that particular hour…somehow, did they find hope?

I guess I don’t have to give a damn whether believing only by faith is stupid. If what I do helps people, in a  way, to believe in something far more greater than themselves then shouldn’t I feel that it is a worthy cause? I don’t know.

I just have to believe.

To be concluded…