THAT I FUCKING LOVE TO WRITE FICTION.
SO I FUCKING HAVE THE FUCKING PROPENSITY TO WRITE THINGS
WHICH ARE NOT ABOUT ANY PARTICULAR PERSON.
*ehem ehem*
So please don’t hate me Juan dela Cruz. The world does not revolve around you.
Some people feel the need to shout to emphasize a point. Whenever I am faced with similiar predicaments, I always maintain a calm manner with regard to dealing with the issue. I am an advocate of the hey-let’s-talk-calmly-and-fix-this-skirmish-diplomatically school of thought.
But I suppose this doesn’t work for most people.
You see, some are brought up where my method is so non-existent, so much so that they never learned how to use it, or never experienced it that they don’t know how to deal with it. They sometimes misread my calmness for a sort of apathy on my part. Truth being told, I stay calm because shouting is too telenovela-ish. Not cool.
I have this (non-romantic) friend who I visited just recently. He is a big shot at some transnational bank. He is a tetragenarian. Anyways, his mom was also there, we ate lunch, us three, and then we left his house to accompany him to his facialist (yeah, you heard it right).
While we were in the car, he said that I should’ve said goodbye to his mom before we left, that it is common courtesy. Moreso, he went through this litany of friends who say goodbye to his mom when they leave his house, how his mom’s days are numbered, that we should recognize that and so on…
I told him, sure. I apologised for not knowing better since we don’t really do that from where I came from. I told him that I will do it next time but he doesn’t have to obsess about the issue since I can’t leave his house twice in ten minutes.
By that I meant that if he wants to know if it’ll happen again, i.e. me just leaving w/o saying goodbye, he would have to wait for the next instance where his mom is there and we are about to leave. I pick up things fast, and I am not very fond of being spoon-fed. I told him that I already got his point, and he won’t have to hammer it any further. I just relayed what my common sense was telling me the whole time.
Then he snapped.
He told me that the point he’s making is something that everyone should know, that my parents are young and probably had a different set values. That what he’s teaching me are the values of the old. That the problem with a hyper-intellectual 23-year-old is the inevitable propensity to feel that he has thought about everything, that we don’t listen.
All while shouting.
It grated to my ears. One thing so petty that warrants attacks on my family and upbringing? I went for the force majeure.
But I always try to give people the benefit of the doubt. I might just have bruised his ego with the kind of composure I showed. We are all human to begin with. So I maintained my bearing.
I told him,
“Let’s settle it. You told me that I should say g’bye to your mom whenever we’re gonna leave her. I get it. I told you that I got it so that you won’t have to hammer it anymore. By the scheme of things, I suppose you already know that I don’t like people getting redundant. I am not upset at you, but I just wanna make it very clear, that I got your point, I feel it’s valid, and let’s just move on and talk about something more productive. You know me and how I deal with matters. Yes, you are 42, and I am 23. But if we will anonymously write down what we say on paper and make other people read it so check its plausibility, your level of credibility will be no different from mine. We both took logic in UP. You should know and act better than that.”
And then, Silence.
Im single again, friggin totally single. So please ask me out.
Hahaha.
(I just have to learn how to laugh at it, besides, it’s as if i got a choice to begin with)
*buntong hininga*
I am happy that things are kind of working out for me this time. As the saying goes, if life gets so fucked up, when one is totally down, one has got nowhere to go but up.
I got a new job, and I think I’m gonna love it. Pay is better than good, people are nice to me, and alpha-male chauvinist pigs practically don’t exist. Sheer heaven.
My lovelife is non-existent, but nothing is perfect anyway. It’ll come when it comes. I have learned that I can’t force myself to have one, and I’ll just let destiny take its course. Besides, I won’t get rich with lovelife, unless I get a filthy rich danna , which is highly improbable.
I have a very caring foster family. My Tita Noemi loves me, along with my Tito Alvin. This will sound cheesy, but I just know in myself that I now have a family again. They are not perfect, but that doesn’t really matter at the end of the day. What matters is, I have people who love me unconditionally, and not because they can get or expect to get something from me. It is something new to me, but I feel good.
I feel good, and I wouldn’t mind to stay this way.
*smiles*
—————————————-
P.S.
For those self-righteous Dr. Phil types, please dont fuckin’ send me AA-type privy messages. Try to feel good using somebody else. Good day.
I dont go for the dashing type. – I’d rather have one who is generically okay but has the potential to age gracefully. Emotionally, the guy has to know how to strike a balance between impulse and restraint. He has to be brutally transparent and blunt, as i am such myself. I dont intend to go for flings anymore, I’m just too busy to actually go through the chutzpah of the whole Dating-Wonderland-Limbo-Hell-Breakup-Bitterness-Recovery cycle over and over.
He doesn’t have to be filthy rich, but he has to have a stable and repectable disposition. He has to be living off his own money, and not be some spoiled brat but who’s got everything and whose everything is from his folks.
I want my guy to possess tact, he’s got to know when to the the right things, at the right time, in the right place, at the right manner.
I want a guy who has an extensive vocabulary, as it suggests that he reads a lot so that corollarily, he will have a lot of things to talk about. I want to him to have a knack with word choice `cause I don’t wanna marry a Miriam Defensor. He has to make sense with everything he says, or be funny beyond belief if he does not.
I need a guy who’s comfortable with himself, and not someone who expends more energy in trying to evade detection than in actually enjoying life.
I want a guy who I can be proud of, and in turn, can be proud of me.
I want him to have culture, depth of character. I want him to know history and the arts. I want to be able to just sit beside him, talk, learn, and ultimately feel that living ain’t as bad as they say on TV.
I am not a hopeless romantic, and I dont even dream of this kind of man. I don’t even know if he possibly exists, let alone available. Assuming such, I wouldn’t know if he will like me, aside from the fact that I may not even deserve him.
With this in mind, and along with my unevadable propensity to be utterly logical, I choose not to exert too much energy and spend too much time in trying to find him. I am not even waiting, at all, and in all honesty. But dont get me wrong, I do hope he’ll come, but I’ve already reached the point where I know that I won’t be incomplete if he doesn’t.
I have learned, albeit the hard way, that I could be happy AND single, but by no means will I deny that it wouldn’t hurt to be happier, an awful lot happier.
————–
P.S. I just felt that I had to post this entry in light of recent developments. LMAO
What’s hapening to you?
I know that my moral fiber
was made in China
but I try to
hold
on to it
as hard as I can.
Concupiscence
is an annoying fact of life but
I just have to go against it
because I have a fairly
good idea of what I
wanna be and I
have decided
to do all
possible
ways to
be like
that
someday.
Not for any goddamn
archaic, complex reason
Not for any sort of social
recognition, not for any
attempt at validation
but solely for the
fact that I am a
man who has
principles,
i will live
life with
those
by
my
side.
But I just went against one, and it feels so bad.
Finding meaning
in one mere tryst
shall be nothing
but one more heist
It might be true
but it is late
and wisdom’s rue
is not of faith
One could just heed
and hope in chance
and find some light
in this, this trance
Conscience, Limbo
Core in despair
Fears the morrow
and dest’ny’s fare
It might have led
it might have not
but hope has fled
this poor, sad lot.
Happiness nigh,
but right be done
Thy smile, goodbye
Lest all be gone.
My father died five years ago. We all mourned, but we have learned, though with difficulty, to move on. My mom thought that she never would remarry. We told her that it was okay to remarry, as we can’t promise that we can’t be with her at all times. We grow up, and fate may lead us to very very different paths.
One day when the whole world woke up, she has suddenly married someone whose name my sibilings and I do not even know and whose face we have never seen.
It was a secret ceremony with no one given notice but my mom’s mother and siblings. The rest of us felt betrayed. We could not possibly understand why on earth can she bear not telling us. She should have remembered that we have the right to know because we are her children, and that we still breathe.
We were plain stunned.The irony of the matter is, on the day after the wedding, I came home to the province, saw her, and yet she never mentioned about it. I was clueless at that point, thinking that it was just another one of my many visits to what I called home.
I was mistaken.
I am the talkie type. I regularly have conversations with our employees. I treat them as equals, seeing that our only difference is the availability of opportunity. Due to that, they refard me as one of their friends, that they can freely tell me anything without fearing for their livelihood.
One of them came up to me and asked if I already knew that I have a new stepdad. My jaws dropped, I almost fainted.I headed straight back to Manila without saying goodbye to anyone.
It has been a while since I last spoke with her, and I’ve realised that I cannot go on like this. So I have resolved to go back home, talk to her again, and iron things out.
I love my mom, but I can’t help but feel like I am an Osbourne.
Or maybe the Osbournes fared better, I do not know.
Life has a wicked sense of humor.
Wish me luck I could use some.
*****************************
This has been written months and months ago so please do not blurt out unsolicited pep talk as they are already obsolete. Thank you
I am Rey Joseph Nieto, a 23-year-old sales account manager for a US-based transnational training technologies firm. A budding insomniac, I seldom sleep. I live in makati and work in the Ortigas area where 20% and 75% of my life revolves, repectively. [go figure out the other 5 heheh]
I was a math major in a government university. Now, I am a recreational mathematician who’s trying to do some research on the possible cryptological repercussions of the human genome project. I just figured out at some point that there’s something more orgasmic than just mathematics.
I love writing. I blog a lot. I write about everything I can think of, and write in verse when I topics are too sensitive. A lot of people misread my articles, thinking that I am talking about them. Some even message me just to tell me that I may need psychiatric help as some of my entries sound suicidal. Rest assured that though I am not very sure of my current mental state, I amdoing just fine. Besides, suicide ain’t that fun.
I have a very straightforward, no-nonsense demeanor which people often mistake as social obnoxiousness. I don’t like goin around the bush, because it has already caused me enough trouble to last me `till judgment day. I say what I think without any censorship.
I am the kind of guy who doesn’t care about what other people are, do, or look like. Not for any attempt at the Nobel Peace Prize, but simply because as long as something doesn’t adversely affect my tate of affairs, then I don’t give a damn. I am happy with my foster family, and there is no gain in schadenfreude as I validate my own validity.
That is me, now live with it.
Shit
sobrang dami
nakakasusulasok
nakababagot
nakaiinis
kung ganoon lang
pinaalam na sana
at nang ‘di nagisip
at nang ‘di na nagparaya
ang buhay ay ‘di pabula
na parang bahay-bahayan
na maaring ipagpaliban
pag pagod o pagal na
ang di ko mawari
ay ang ideya
na sa ganito lamang pupunta
ang telenobela.