Looking Back But Moving Forward

Mood: Thinking
Music: Hums of various electronic appliances

I couldn't believe it either when I saw. It has been three years since my last entry in this blog. That's enough time to presume me dead.

A lot has happened in those three years. I think my job then was still as an Assistant Media Affairs Coordinator for the NCAA. Just to get you guys up to speed on my career, my contract with the NCAA ended on March 2007 and I got hired in by HotOccasions.com as an Associate Editor. I spent two years in the company. I resigned at the end of May 2009. I've been a CEO (well, unemployed, but CEO sounds better) for 3 months and counting.

I looked back into my previous posts in this blog and I realized something: I was one outfit short of being an emo kid. Damn. I never realized that I posted so much drama that it could rival an All American Rejects album.

It kind of makes me wonder. Have I grown up in those three years that have passed since then? I'm pretty much still dealing with the same problems as before and I don't even know if I am doing something differently in dealing with them. Am I still that 24 year old kid only 3 years older?

An assessment of my current state doesn't really give a positive answer to that question. I mean, c'mon. I'm 27 years old, single and unemployed (err... a CEO... Okay, it doesn't really work). Not to mention that my burnout with the previous job has contributed in the degradation of my writing skills.

Then again. There is no use looking back and dwelling. All I can do now is move forward. And, boy do I have a lot of free time to do that.

I'm currently enrolled in a gym in Ortigas and, with the help of my dad, was able to hire Orly, a personal trainer. He's really good at what he does and I'm learning a lot from him. Of course, I am aso having fun, but not too much.

Being a quintessential crossbreed of a couch potato and a wild boar, I find it very hard to do the exercises. The intense regimen that Orly's putting me through sure pushes me to my limit. He's put me under a super-setted program that requires me to do three to five exercises in one go. Basically, the 40 minutes that I spend in the program is equivalent to two to three hours of gym time.

It is kind of fulfilling whenever I finish an entire super-set. Tiring, but fulfilling. While Orly does say that I am doing pretty well and he sees that I'm working my ass off (literally), I sometimes find myself disappointed whenever I would take a two second break between reps. I do understand that I have my limits, and Orly said that it was okay to rest for a bit as long as I don't stop.

I guess that's what's really going on with me right now. I am trying my best to move forward, but it's not easy. So right now, I am resting. But that doesn't mean that I'm gonna stop.

I'll get there one day.

At Fourth Street

Mood: Somewhat disappointed
Music: Still echoes

Yesterday, I entered the Savarin Poker Tournament. And it proved, to be a very interesting and slightly disappointing experience.

Ever since I got my tournament invite, I've been psyching myself out for the competition. Practicing online, refining my analyses of flops and regulating my aggression. I treated it like my stepping-stone to the ultimate poker stage: The World Poker Tour.

I was doing pretty well and I was able to make it at the final table. But my bid ended when I went All-in with Ace-King suited in Clubs. The chip leader called my bet and he had a Jack-Deuce off-suit. I was clearly at the advantage until the flop came; a flop that ended up with him getting triple deuces.

I ended up in Fourth Place. The top-most spot with no prize. I was very disappointed. I'm just one place short of Third, which had a guaranteed prize.

It just goes to show that no matter how hard I try, no matter how well I played, fate still has the final say if I get what I want. Too bad Fate's not that generous to me.

As much as I don't want to sound like an ingrate, I'd have to say I deserved to win. My play was perfect. I had no unnecessary raises, no bad folds and I knew what I needed to do every step of the way. Another thing that made me think that I deserved to win is that, out of the 59 players in the tournament, only I and my friend (the one who got Third place) did not re-buy* throughout the duration of the tourney.

That fact in itself says something. It says that I (along with my friend) am good. It may sound very arrogant but I am. I've been working hard, always making sure that my play is perfect.
And I lost just because someone had more money to spend than I.

This made me compare and contrast my life with that Poker game. Much like my life, even if I worked hard to perfectly execute a plan that'll help me reach my goal, I will always fall short because of something that I couldn't control. Always.

If I were to quantitatively identify the components of life, I'd have to say that life is 40% Luck, 30% Guts and 30% Skill with a passing quota of 70%. So I guess it's just too bad that all I got is 60% because I don't believe in Luck.

Luck is a concept that I keep on denying, but it just really is there. But I guess, even after this, I'm still stubborn enough to say that I will prove that all I needed was 60%.

*if a player gets knocked-out in the early rounds of a poker tournament, he or she has the option to pay the house a certain amount so that he or she could gain more chips. Sort of like a bribe to play again, in my humble opinion. Each player usually is limited to just one re-buy but I don't use it out of principle.

Screams...

Mood: Screaming!
Music: Silence broken by voices screaming in my head

"Why don't you just quit whining?! At least your not out in the streets begging!"

"You have a whole lot to be thankful for, you ungrateful bastard! Can't you just be content!"

"Let's just end this! C'mon! I dare you! Kill me!"

"Death is too good for you! I'd rather not kill you. The blood of dishonored clans flow within you and I'd rather not stain myself with that!"

"You coward!"

"You don't deserve to live nor do you deserve to die! You deserve to merely exist..."

"I know! I know! Death is a salvation that I cannot afford! Have you got anything else other than that?"

"Yes, I do! But I know that you won't like it!."

"What else can you do to me? C'mon give me everything you got! I fuckin' dare you!"

"YOU ARE WORTHLESS!"

It's Safe to Say That I'm Going Nuts

Mood: Heading towards the general direction of dimentia and depression
Music: Siam Shade - Life

I'm sorry if I haven't updated in awhile. The 82nd Season of the NCAA has already begun last June 24, 2006 and I'm still adjusting to the work-load. I've been very busy lately.

To be honest with all of you, the work-load is very manageable because I now have Tuesdays and Thursdays off. Unfortunately, it's just me who insists on working myself like a horse because it seems to be the only thing keeping me sane right now.

It's not healthy, really. But I seem to find work pleasurable in a way that it makes me think less about my situation and more about doing my job right. I'm also happy about the fact that I'm learning a lot of new things, especially about the sportswriting field, from my superior, Nathaniel Dela Cruz. I also like the fact that Nats (his nickname) never hesitates to tell me what I'm doing wrong, pretty much enhancing the learning. As Kintaro Oe always said, "Very Educational!"

It still scares me, though. I now dread Tuesdays and Thursdays because they're my most idle times of the week. And it is in idle times that I get haunted by my own demons, slowly draining me of my will to live.

My mind is a desolate place. There are times that I'd rather open my eyes in the darkness of my room than close my eyes and journey into the deepest recesses of my mind. It's just too much to take. So many bitter memories; so much regret; so many voices shouting shouldn't-haves and might-have-beens.

And whenever I sleep, I will still be haunted by those memories which manifest themselves as midnight reveries that leave a destructive wake on my consciousness.

I'm also scared to talk to my friends lately, most especially my bestfriend, Elaigh. Around other people, I always put on a strong facade to make them think that everything is just fine and dandy. On the other hand, I could never hide anything from Elaigh. Whenever I'm with her, I always take off that mask of strength and reveal the weakling that hides on the other side. But I'm just in too much pain that it might actually spill over to her and affect her. I don't want that. I don't want to be a burden, especially to my bestfriend.

If you're reading this, Elaigh, I'm really sorry. You may think of it as something that is self-righteous but I don't want to bother you with my constant whining. You have your own battles to fight, too. It'll be too selfish of me to ask for your help in fighting mine.

I'm sorry.

Sure, I am happy whenever I work. But at the end of the day, I always have to face myself during my homeward commute and before going to bed. Sometimes I even wish that the FX I'm riding suddenly crashes, or a stray bullet suddenly shoots down from the heavens and pierces through my brain. Unfortunately, He won't give me the privilege of death... At least not while He's still having lots of fun.

As most can see, my faith is not in tip-top shape either. As much as I try saying to myself that I have many things to be thankful for like having a roof over my head, eating three square meals a day, clothes that keep me warm, etc.; I'd be a hypocrite if I didn't say that I'm very disappointed with God right now. But I still never forget to pray. He is, after all, the Almighty and I'll just have to deal with whatever he gives me.

"Maybe it's about time that somebody saved your life." said Mary Jane Watson to Peter Parker in the closing scenes of Spiderman 2, which I caught on HBO this week. These lines echoed through my head all day. I'm not saying that I'm like Spiderman, cheating death and giving others a second chance to live. I'm no superhero but I've given my share of thankless help to others, even to people that I don't even know. I guess I'm just hoping for something or someone to save me.

Dreamer's Dilemma

Mood: Emotional shutdown is an option
Music: Bana - Shell

I don't know if it's a good thing or a bad thing, really.

After weeks of dreamless slumbers, I was finally able to drift into reverie last night. It was a really good dream, everything was perfect. It was really what it was: A dreamland, a place where everything I ever wanted and needed was.

Of course, as with every dream, it ended when I woke up. The dream was so fantastic, something in me wanted to go back to sleep. So I did. Everytime I woke up, I forced myself back to sleep.

I was suddenly disturbed by my attitude and desire to live in the dream that I had to snap-out of it and used sheer force of will to get on my feet so I could start my day.

I'm really scared.

Two opposing polarities of desire are battling within me: the desire to never wake up and the desire to face the dreadful day. There is no clear winner yet but I know one thing: I will always suffer in the end.

Summer Has Ended...

Mood: Searching for the sun
Music: Do As Infinity - Summer Days

The raindrops have replaced the sunshine.

An indication that summer is over.

No more walking on the sidewalk while basking in the rays. No more running around town while baking in summer's dry heat. No more summer days.

I'm especially sad that this summer has ended. It's a summer of firsts for me. This is my first summer as a writer, a real one; my first summer as a man, working to earn his keep. Most importantly, this is my first summer as a full-fledged dreamer; an Eternal Dreamer (although, that phase is starting to see an end, too).

As many of you may have noticed, if you've been reading some of my recent entries, I'm not really in a good emotional state. And one of the few things that help me get by is my appreciation for the summer sun. Now that the summer is gone, I'll have to look to other things so that I don't drown so much into the dark cesspools of my head.

To make matters worse, my being a dreamer is starting to see an end. What is a dreamer if he can't even dream?

These past few weeks, everytime I go to sleep, I would only sleep a dreamless sleep. Whenever I would start to dream, something or someone in me would wake me up, then I will attempt to sleep again. This cycle will continue until I sleep a dreamless sleep, which is also the reason why I haven't been sleeping well these past nights.

I really don't have a resolution for any of the things happening right now. I just want to air-out whatever I need to air-out so I could go on with my life.

Murder at the Gates

Mood: Sick and Tired
Music: Chirping of crickets

April 19, 2006; around 5:00 PM. Just at the mouth of our subdivision gates, a neighbor of ours was ambushed and murdered in cold-blood by a number of unidentified well-armed men. He was first shot around 5 times in the body then, as he crawled on the ground, was shot in the head at point-blank range as a coup de grace.

I wasn't a witness to the event itself, I just missed it by a few minutes while I was riding a tricycle going home.

I'm not really shaken by the fact that something as gruesome as that happened at such close proximity. I always assume that there is no such thing as a "peaceful neighborhood". Even in the most tranquil of places, anything can happen from a simple skinned-knee to a bullet-in-the-head.

What really irks me though is the motive and nature of the crime. The victim is somewhat of a small-time activist attempting to expose the anomalies of our subdivision's Home Owner's Association. For that alledged reason, he was executed. It's just really disappointing that we Filipino's would kill even for such a small-scale government like a Home Owner's Association. If things like this happen on such a microcosmic scale, what more on the big time?

I'm sick and tired of us Filipino's. Instead of trying to use our power to make things better for everyone, we only use it to satify our own agendas. This is why we never prosper, all we ever think about is our own selfish needs and not the needs of each other.

I offer my condolences to the victim and his family. Although I didn't know him well, I admire him for the fact that he tried to make a difference. It did cost him his life, but I think he knew that this would happen and he still went for it. Like a foolish dreamer, raising his sails amidst a storm.

P.S. I'm really sick. As in I've got sore-throat, a cold, and a fever. But I still have work to do so I have to go to the office. Again, like a foolish dreamer, raising his sails amidst a storm.