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2012-01-31T18:08:00.001+08:00

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Pariah

2012-01-27T00:46:00.001+08:00

In a caste system, the lowest class are often regarded as social outcasts. People will often avoid contact or communication, and sometimes even restrain from even going near them. Anyone who sympathizes, befriends, or seen socializing with them may cause their popularity to drop, or even become outcasts themselves. The general dislike - maybe even hate - stems from fear, and generally result to rejection.

Having lost my home, the very one I've built with my own blood, sweat and tears, I've made myself a vagabond of sorts. And vagabonds, in a land where people want to maintain their high social status, deserve persecution. Or at least considered an untouchable, a pollutant, a stink in the population.

I've been an outcast my entire life. It's nothing new. I've been portrayed the worst possible scenarios you could ever think of. So it doesn't surprise me to find myself in the very same situation I've been in, time and time again…

No, No, No

2012-01-22T01:09:00.001+08:00

We are so afraid to say “no.” And we’re no better for it.

Because we are so eager to please and so scared of scathing opinions, we tend to say “yes” for convenience. Maybe even cornered to saying “yes” to things we don’t even want to do. Or shouldn’t do.

For the longest time, I’ve put my feelings aside and said yes too many times. Yes, I will do what I was told. Yes, I will suck it up because it would be counter productive to just bitch about it. Yes, I will take it all in and make the best of it.

But I was stupid, didn’t know nothing, and was lying to myself.

I had overlooked that I should say no. I had overlooked my voice. I had overlooked that I deserved better.

Sometimes, you end up losing respect for yourself in the hopes that others respect you, too. And for sure, for a time ... I had lost valuing my own input. Apparently, with what’s going on now, it wasn’t for shit. It turns out, what I had to say meant something. So much so that I don’t have to stay in a place where my voice isn’t heard, because I make sense. So much sense. And not many people value their own sense enough, which doesn’t always translate when we are so used - or abused - to just saying “yes.”

So I got to thinking. How much of our own voice gets out there in the world? Where can you air your opinions without it being taken against you? In a world where awful people tear you down because you say “no,” I couldn’t help but wonder…

will you ever feel safe saying it again?

Cardiac Dysrhythmia

2012-01-17T21:08:00.001+08:00

Apparently, it’s dangerous when your heart skips a beat.

I had spent my early Monday night getting my heart checked. At first I had come in to have my blood pressure reviewed - suffice to say: my life has become so stressful. But then the results showed a different problem … my heart … as if my life hasn’t been stressful enough.

I’ve been told that my heart is experiencing some sort of hiccups, showing an irregularity in its rhythms. So I went in and got what they call a “2D Echo.”

To discuss the details of my condition is far beyond my comprehension. All I know is what’s written down as the reason why I needed one. Dysrhythmic Heart Disease. As it turns out, it’s cause for alarm when your heart skips a beat. Or beats too much. When something doesn’t follow the normal operation of something so important, like the heart, apparently it’s worth the extra time reviewing it.

How many times do we gloss over something so important? How often do we let go of something that goes deviant from time to time and left unchecked? Did you ever end up having some sort of failure because of it?

I may not be as experienced as others might be. And I’m just learning this as I go along. But if it’s right to be alarmed from a small thing, then how different is it in the other aspects of life that are just as important? How different is it, really?

When you spend your life ignoring the signs, you end up with a failure. Don’t ever let anything fail. If you can preempt something from happening, do everything you can to prevent an eventual undesirable result. Because at the end, if you let it happen, it’s hard to bounce back from it. Or you might not be able to bounce back from it at all.

At least for my case,

maybe…just, maybe…
there might hope.

Oxymorons

2012-01-15T02:09:00.001+08:00

Feelingless. Perhaps it’s my invented adjective for not feeling anything. Or maybe it’s my made up word for feeling so much lower than normal. It means so much, but yet, it’s such a contradiction. How can you feel, when you’re not feeling anything at all?
In light of recent circumstances, some have come up to me and have commended me for my act of bravery. Some wish they had done it earlier. Some give encouraging messages. Some have sided with me and joined stand against the ominous oppression we’ve all been under. There’s never been such a widespread support by so many well respected figures by a decision made by a lowly individual like me. I should be on top of the world. Validated. Perhaps, revered.

But I don’t feel like I’m on top of the world.

I don’t think of myself as a hero … nor a victim. I don’t regret doing anything I’ve done (especially more recent ones), but I can’t say I’m entirely proud of it. It is, in fact, the most disappointing thing. I’m not ashamed of it. But it’s nothing to brag about…

Sometimes late at night, I toss and turn wondering what I could have done better. Then I’d come to realize that there was no other way around it but this. There was no better time to do it but now. But it’s never the right time to do such a thing.

I couldn’t speak up without feeling the wrath. But I couldn’t shut up for my own moral sanity.

So I find myself in a dilemma. A conundrum. A rut. A never ending lose-lose situation, looping till the end of time. Wanting to go but not allowed to leave. Wanting to stay but can’t bear another day. Hating myself because I love it so much. Optimistic, but wary… Pessimistic, but hopeful…

Is it all just made up words? Is everything a contradiction? Because, at the brink of what appears to be the beginning of the end, I couldn’t help but wonder:

Can something wrong
ever be put
in its rightful place?

New Albums On My Playlist

2012-01-14T10:59:00.001+08:00

I'd like to congratulate myself, yes - CONGRATULATE - for transforming these two live concert DVDs into Audio, so I can play it on my iPod. Yes, congratulate!

Please support Beyoncé and Adele's new music DVDs. Beyoncé's Live at Roseland: Elements of 4, and Adele's Live at the Royal Albert Hall.

Sulsul!!!

I Did What Was Right

2012-01-07T18:05:00.001+08:00

Even though I paid the price, I wouldn't undo anything.

Sometimes, when no one has the balls to stand up, you'd be surprised to find yourself doing what you hope others have been doing in the first place. I don't know how much I have to say this over and over, but always

stand up against oppression.

Don't ever be afraid to speak up. Even if you've been groomed to shut up and suck it: defy all rules to make sure what is right is upheld.

When you follow a ruler whose neither credible, nor honest, nor fair, and has a knack of getting away with things because they run their kingdoms by instilling fear, it is a deviance to speak up against the autocracy. You are rebellious instead of having a healthy debate over matters. So as a decision maker where you're decisions are trampled "just because" it doesn't follow the dictatorship direction, you should expect that it's going to be off with your head. When you're expected to shut up because money is shoved at your mouth and how dare you say something against it, like Kim Jong Il: it's off with your head.

And off with my head it is.

And I'd face the guillotine anytime of the day, if it's for a good cause. I did what was right, and I will keep on doing what is right, instead of selling my soul and be paid to shut up.

New Years. Old Years.

2012-01-06T01:59:00.001+08:00

There comes a time in each of our lives when we let go of the past, and brace ourselves forward onto the future. It’s the times of our lives where we apply what we’ve learned and exhibit our growth.

So at a time like this, when we just turned the last month and last day of the calendar and ease slowly onto the new year ahead, do you ever stop and wonder what things you’d like to leave behind as you move forward?

Don’t ever forget to remember, that everything happens for a reason, especially on the things you cannot control. But in the smaller scale of things you can, indeed, control, we have to be able to decide which ones we’ll never let happen again. It is through the years, where we can show what we’ve learned from the past, so we don’t run our lives blindly ahead.

I’ve learned very well last year to suck it up and let the motions roll. But I’d like to leave behind my passive aggressive approach to things and I’m deciding to make more action instead of just rumination.

Decide which side you’re on. Some people don’t even want to choose sides altogether. Some aren’t even aware there were sides to begin with. For a time, I could say I was one of them. Being on the safe side, and impartial, was the best way to go. Or had I thought differently? For 2012, I’d like to take convictions by the horns and decide where I believe in. I know my values, and I will carry it over 2012. I will never compromise them again, as I have, in 2011.

The Thesaurus illustrates clearly - the antonym of Integrity is Dishonesty. There is no half and half. I had thought it was possible to strike a balance between keeping your integrity and at the same time getting your hands dirty, too. Turns out, there is no such thing. And I apologize for having believed in that notion in 2011. With all the lies I’ve been told last year, it makes me wonder why my sense of hearing had not been taken away from me by the higher power who gave it to me in the first place. Moving forward, I’d like my integrity intact, with no room for half and half.

2011 was a tough year. Ended with a bang, even. But there’s no better time to leave it all behind.

Next!

Without Lifting A Finger

2012-01-05T00:45:00.001+08:00

Some people can do nothing - absolutely nothing - but still end up claiming the luxuries of life. They can exert the least amount of effort and be paid full time for a half assed job.

I'm not that kind.

I believe in equal parts of hard work and reaping the benefits of it. Not sororitizing in the helms of a Queen Bee waiting to be granted a blessing clearly undeserving of such.

I haven't sold my soul completely. Because I know I'll need it someday. But I'm not one of those donkeys who can be led by a carrot on a stick. For a time, I tried. But I've swallowed the last fucking piece of shit I could ever swallow in my entire lifetime.

Root Of All Evil

2011-12-25T21:56:00.001+08:00

We all have to face our challenges.

It’s not all smiles and easiness. We’re all bound to face pivotal moments where our character is tested, where we have to push boundaries, where we have to take risks.

Maybe I was put here to face that.

As I’ve said before: People come and people go. It’s those who stay that carry the burden of fighting further. It’s no new revelation to say that starting over is the easiest way to deal with things. We all know that. If we could do that all the time, then we wouldn’t be able to stay wether we did everything we could because we kept escaping.

Is there no better time to stay and keep fighting? Or is it time, after weathering all the ups and downs of this year, to finally move on?

It feels such a deja vu to be saying that I’ve done everything that I could do. It’s such a replay to be saying that I’ve done myself proud. To seal it in a year’s work, battle after battle, I couldn’t help but wonder if we were able to have something concrete to show for it. Are we finding ourselves in the same situation? Can the source be removed? Are we fighting the same problems over and over again?

In the rules of cause and effect, the best way to win is to eliminate the cause. However, when you always deal with matters on the “effect” levels, you’ll always find yourself dealing with the same problems.

When it comes to getting rid of problems: how do you eliminate the cause?

Iron Fist

2011-12-22T02:52:00.001+08:00

I was taught to value people, groomed to lead by example, and motivate through inspiration. From time to time, we find ourselves dealing with challenges. At which point, as leaders, we need to make sure to correct it, resolve it, and produce positive results.

As a team, someone’s failure below is ultimately a failure above. Letting go of a problem without correctly addressing it is never the right thing to do.

From my experience, it was never best to run something with an iron fist. It was never best to run it your own way without the support of the very people you need to reach a common goal.

But I’m in a place where these things are no longer there. Why is it, in the last five years, it was always the same. The style was always the same. And it worked. It worked when we were small, and it led us to the level of where we are now. But somehow, something's changed. Right at the very top. Where I find myself questioning the very morality, the very ethicality of the core principles I was brought up to revere.

I refuse to believe all of us are bad seeds. Inversely, there might be really bad soil. And I refuse to continue learning negatively, learning what not to do, and learning what doesn’t work.

I was taught right, and groomed to speak up against what I see is wrong for the very people I had largely contributed building myself. My own blood, sweat and tears.

So now it’s come to this. A situation which will decide my fate. A decision I’m fully responsible for. A decision to take it in my own hands, to take a risk no one’s dared to take yet, and hope that it will serve as an example for anyone too wary to try it, and once and for all fight off one last time and see where it takes me.

I know I’m right, no matter how entry level I may be. And the greatest lesson in this is you’ll never know until you try.

I couldn’t help but wonder:

who wins...
when you fight
for what is right?

Sci-Fi Meanderings

2011-12-17T12:23:00.001+08:00

Over the course of the year, I’ve learned a lot of things. This year in particular I learned one most important thing:

What NOT to do.

Turns out, there are several ways of learning. We can be led through inspiration. We can be taught through shadowing. We can study through spoon feeding. And surprisingly, we can also learn negatively.

Learning the hard way is never easy. Not always the most effective in my point of view. But it’s still learning nonetheless. If you’re a sponge, you’d be able to survive. I can only speak for myself. Or am I speaking too soon?

The problematic thing is, even though you may be in the primordial soup brewing with potential to evolve, you won’t be able to - no matter what you do - if you pour molten hot lava even before a plankton can develop legs to walk on dry land.

Which brings me to the question: can we evolve in a world full of potential when your learning is inducted in flames?

Oh Santa!

2011-12-04T16:19:00.001+08:00

A few weeks before Christmas!!!

All I Want For Christmas Is You

2011-12-04T11:56:00.001+08:00

Mariah found an excuse to revive the favorite classic through Justin Bieber. Enjoy!

So Many Books Lined Up

2011-11-27T11:35:00.001+08:00

Can't wait to go through all of them!

Steve Jobs Excerpt

2011-11-23T16:11:00.001+08:00

“I like to think that something survives after you die,” he said. “It’s strange to think that you accumulate all this experience, and maybe a little wisdom, and it just goes away. So I really want to believe that something survives, that maybe your consciousness endures.”

He fell silent for a very long time. “But on the other hand, perhaps it’s like an on-off switch,” he said.

“Click! And you’re gone.”

Then he paused again and smiled slightly. “Maybe that’s why I never liked to put on-off switches on Apple devices.”

Dot. Dot. Dot. Ellipsis.

2011-11-12T01:54:00.001+08:00

That’s my brain lately. Sure I have ideas from time to time. But they go just as fast as they come. With the craziness in my life right now, it’s hard to find the calm you need when your head is in a whirlwind.

It’s uncomfortable sitting in noisy silence. Or silent noises. At this point, I can’t tell which is which.

What do you do to kill the torrent? How do you stand your ground when the winds are blowing you down? Where do you run when something’s chasing after you?

I had thought I already knew what had to be done ... what could be done. But in the wake of reality, it’s turning out to be I had no idea. I couldn’t help but wonder …

How could something so familiar …
suddenly feel so strange?

Ego and Arrogance

2011-11-09T21:58:00.001+08:00

I’ve learned to develop non-tolerance to ego. It doesn’t matter much how well one might regard themselves, or how much others regard them. But when you have an ego blowing your head out of proportion, I will not tolerate it.

Greatness should be managed with humility. Or is my idea of this wrong? Sometimes I get caught up too much on my idealisms, but I have a really hard time swallowing the fact that someone who could do so well but be caught in the haze of too much self praise that they feel the rules don’t apply to them.

No one is above the rules. We all have to follow a norm. And if we dare to be deviant, we should be able to show excellence at every aspect. Else, whatever ego we may be carrying in our heads is nothing but plain old arrogance. We all know it. We very well know it.

If you carry the weight of your big head, others will surpass you. Don't lose the race because of arrogance.

Blind In The Dark

2011-11-08T14:02:00.001+08:00

I feel like I’m blind in the dark, with no guiding voice to lead me where I should go.

Why do I feel so directionless? Why am I battling this nagging gut feeling that it’s all wrong when there’s nothing I can do to fight it?

There’s a lot of self doubt in my self lately. I haven’t been able to eradicate it altogether. No matter what the status quo may be, I don’t know how to define myself. I feel castrated, when I never really regarded my balls that much. I feel voiceless, when I never really know what to say to begin with.

I’ve been having a really awful time. Sometimes I wake up in a daze wondering where I am and what I’m doing. More often than not, I end up cowering into oblivion…

Steve Jobs

2011-11-06T18:55:00.001+08:00

I am currently engaged reading Steve Jobs’ biography, wonderfully written by Walter Isaacson. At the same time, I’ve been having a really hard time finding inspiration, and I hope to find mine in the books that I’ve been reading, or at least through the people I interact with, physically, or mentally.

Sometimes, maybe we have to take a major step back in order to move forward.

Woes

2011-10-31T14:33:00.001+08:00

When I stare at blank pages, it makes me feel empty.

I’ve always fancied writing my feelings down. But lately I haven’t been able to. Often, I stare at a blank, white pages, with nothing but a the cursor blinking. It feels like it’s taunting me and my thoughts.. And I curse myself for not knowing what to say or write.

It’s a hobby. Writing was always my past time. And the fact that I can’t do it frustrates me to the core. Is it that hard to think of something to write? It’s nothing fancy. It doesn’t require elaborate things in order for me to do this. It shouldn’t take much effort to sit down and write. But when you want to do something but can’t, you can end up tearing yourself apart.

Often times I don’t think of myself as talented. I can’t dance, I don’t have much of a voice, and my personality isn’t media savvy enough for a reality show. I don’t come from a high profile society family, and I don’t have enough connections to be at par with the rich and famous. But what makes me feel special is the fact that I can write.

But I can’t write…

I’m not saying that my blog posts influence change in the world. I have two to three readers. I very seldom get comments from my posts. So why do I feel like I need to write?

The thing is, I do it for myself. And it may sound weird, but not writing is like not bathing for me. It stinks if I haven’t come up with anything to write.

Ghosts

2011-10-24T23:48:00.001+08:00

When you leave unfinished business behind, will you end up with ghosts haunting you the rest of your life?

I’ve had an interesting week. De ja vu, for the most part. I went through the same training I did a year ago. I wouldn’t say that I was expert on whatever class we took, but it was all too familiar. And I couldn’t say I ever let go of it.

So once the week ended, I decided it would be nice to agree to come along and go out for drinks and meet friends. What I didn’t know - and really, who could have predicted? - that I’d bump into the worst person to bump into.

No one could have thought that after our arbitrary encounter six months ago, we’d cross paths again. I thought in the beginning, I faced the face of evil incarnate. But I suppose I was wrong. Maybe it's time I acknowledge instead that I was facing a ghost - one I hadn't had the chance to let go, one all too familiar...

How do you forgive and forget? How do you gain closure on something left open for so many years? Will I forever be in limbo suffering for the very reason that out there in the world, someone did something bad to me and never asked for forgiveness, or even acted even remorsefully sorry? What else can I do to finally feel the satisfaction of getting even?

While he's alive, can I ever kill the feeling? There must be a way out of this … because I can't always have a ghost lurking my every living day...

Chapter 14: Making Dreams Come True

2011-10-01T14:40:00.001+08:00

Why can the mind be filled with so many thoughts, yet words somehow feel out of reach?

I’ve always wanted to write. Maybe even write for a living. But with the few opportunities around, it wouldn’t be economical enough to pay the bills in the lifestyle I aimed for. So I resigned to the idea that I could use writing as a hobby.

I’ve never formally been trained in writing. I have very little background. I was part of the publishing club that put together a school paper. Once, I was a freelance writer for a small local magazine that went to publication. And then I graduated with my computer degree, and went ahead working in the corporate IT industry.

You can’t say it didn’t turn out well. I was able to finance my life stable enough. I love my job. At this point my job is no longer what I do, but rather, who I am. And that’s a good thing. But there’s that awful feeling that I failed somewhere between who I wanted to be and what I wanted to do in my life.

To some degree, there is an awful lot of writing involved with what I’m doing. And I love the fact that I talk and write every single day. Communication was always and important component of my job, and I’m thankful for it - allowing me to compose my thoughts and send it out to an audience. Maybe that’s why I’ve been with the company for so long.

When I sit back and look at my life, I always ask myself: Did I find what I was looking for? Did I grow up to be who I wanted to be? Did I fulfill my dreams?

When you’re a kid, all you could do is dream how your life is going to turn out to be. As you turn into an adult, it’s your responsibility to make those dreams come true. Was I wishful thinking for a fantasy life when a was a kid, where I had hoped to be a published writer, with novels at hand, and book signings to go to? Or was there something I could still do to make those dreams come true?

I couldn’t be any happier where I am now. I turned out to be successful in whatever I chased after. But there’s always that feeling that I may have let go of some big dreams I had for myself.

I’m not pining about my life now. If anything, I’m so thankful for all the blessings I've received.

But I want more.
I want it all.

Though I know the answer is within me, I couldn’t help but wonder: how do you make all your dreams come true?

Speak No Evil, See No Evil

2011-09-29T22:52:00.001+08:00

I'm trying really hard to be influenced by outside forces.

One of the reasons why I keep to myself and shy away from blogging lately is because there are some things I don't agree with, but fear speaking up about the things I see. There are forces that can pull you one way, and forces that pull you another way, and you end up stretching yourself thin.

There's no doubt that there's a tug of war between two sides, and being the rope that holds it all together isn't a good thing. I'm not saying that the solidarity of the ground where I stand depends on me. But instead of all of us moving forward, we seem to be staying in the same place.

Do we have to let go and let the other side win? Or do we have to keep pulling to get what we want? Can't we just meet in the middle and move forward from there?

I will not speak ill of anyone from either side. I will try my best to shun away from what I see is not right. Because I'm tired.

The Girl Who Played With Fire

2011-09-27T23:39:00.001+08:00

I love you Salander and Blomkvist!
Onto Book 2!

The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo

2011-09-18T15:20:00.001+08:00

Sometimes, when you can't write, then read. I've picked up all three books and going through them one by one.

To my handful readers, sorry I haven't been blogging much. I don't know why I can't write. But hopefully I pick up the pace of writing once I pick up my pace of reading.

Chapter 13: The End Of An Era

2011-08-19T21:59:00.001+08:00

People come. People go.

You couldn’t say I didn’t try. And for the record, I did everything that I could do. And as the days turn to weeks, until my eventual last day: I did the best I could. So my decision to leave wouldn’t have been too soon. Nor was it made too hastily.

The thing is, I’ve gotten farther than I could ever imagine. At the same time, it’s as far as I can go. It’s not that I’m not thankful for all of the blessings I received. I gave wholeheartedly everything I could. And I appreciate everything I got in return. But the challenge I want to face will have to take me in the endless possibilities outside the confines of what I’ve called home for more than four years.

Some people don’t like change. They like to retain what they can to feel the security they need in order to do their jobs and make a living. But it would be unfair to ask someone to stay who’s too excited to find out what’s out there. It would be unfair to pin someone down when it’s time for them to fly off.

It’s true when I said I’ll look back at my time here with fondness and joy. There couldn’t have been any other better place to have spent my early twenties. But we’ve reached the end of an era, and it’s time to start anew.

Hang Ups

2011-08-14T11:28:00.001+08:00

Sometimes, I can't help but feel like I'm a failure. My 27 Stories should have been done six weeks ago. I should have found another job I liked by now. I should have learned how to drive at this point, and should have a car by now, or a place to claim my own, but I don't. I don't even have a student driver's license.

The job I want to quit won't let me. And the job I want to take won't accept me. The words I want to write won't come out of my brain. The things I want to finish keep moving out of my grasp. And my line of thought is so crooked like failing the sobriety test altogether.

I feel like such a failure. Such a failure.

The Carrie Diaries Excerpt

2011-08-09T14:53:00.001+08:00

Donna’s house is a smorgasbord of textures – marble, gold, heavy silk drapes – that somehow don’t go together and create the impression that one has entered a fun house of bad taste. But in the last few days, I’ve gotten used to it.

You can get used to anything, I guess, if you’ve been there enough.

Chapter 12: Crystal Clear

2011-07-29T18:53:00.001+08:00

I don’t know what to say. Or write.

When you think about it, it’s kind of funny. I spend my entire week answering questions, proposing solutions, defending the reasons why things are the way they are. Shoot hundreds of emails day in and day out. I never run out of things to say.

But when I get home, and sit down in front of a computer to reflect on my life and write it down for some sense of fulfillment … I have nothing. How can we be so “on” all the time at work, but be so “off” when you leave the office and return to your personal life? Why is it, when you’re asking yourself questions, you can’t find any answer?

Normally, this can go by unnoticed. But I’m working on a deadline and I’m running out of time. I can’t keep doing what I’m doing, unless I want to lose my sanity. Or maybe I’m wrong. Maybe I can stick it out without ripping my head off. Or not.

Regardless of opinion, I’m stuck in a rut. I need to find a way to get out of it. But if the direction pulls you both ways, you end up confused. Everything is blurry. And I can’t find an answer, I can’t propose a solution, and I can’t defend the reasons why things are they way they are.

When everything is a haze, how do you find your clarity? When your vision is blurred, where do you find the right spectacles to help you clearly find what you’ve been looking for? Or will things always be vague?

Should you leave your life hazy, or do you deserve better? If so, how do you eliminate the dark obscurity to find the light? How do you wipe off your stained eyes so you can gain a better perspective? Where do you go to get a proper overview of the wrong things in your life?

Looking at my life now, everything’s smudged and confusing. I couldn’t help but wonder… when will things be crystal clear?

RIP Amy Winehouse

2011-07-24T11:07:00.001+08:00

We will miss you… You touched me with your beautiful music...

Chapter 11: Quitting Point

2011-07-23T18:25:00.001+08:00

We all struggle from time to time.

No job is easy. Or at least, no job that pays well enough is easy. As adults, we all have to work for a living. That’s why it’s ever so important to find work that gives you a sense of fulfillment … or purpose.

It all sounds ideal.

In reality though, nothing is perfect. There’s always something making us hate the job that we have. No matter how much we love our professions - so much so that we stay with our affiliations for years - there are always things that don’t go well with us, leading to the question:

Is it time to move on?

I often write that question down for reflection. I like to read it - in my own penmanship, in paper - and ponder if I can answer it without doubt, or if I can answer it, at all. The truth is: I don’t know.

It’s not the first time to find myself in these kinds of mess. I’ve had onerous problems laid out before me often throughout the years. By some stroke of luck and determination, in one way or another I was always able to rise above the ashes. So I am aware that even if it seems the world is falling apart, there’ll come a time when things will be quiet, and manageable ... a time when all the problems you had before would be a thing of the past.

Lately however, it feels different. There doesn’t seem to be even a glimmer of hope that you can find at the far side. It’s been one slippery slope from one account to another. The thing is, when the problems come from the source, those who are on the receiving end are left with no choice but to clean up after it. That’s where I am now. And it’s a never ending cycle.

Is this the reality that I need to swallow? Is this my life as I search for fulfillment, for a purpose, for a living?

I’m not one to say I’m above anyone else. I come from humble beginnings and I have humble needs. I’m not one to say that I am an exception to hardships in life, because just like everyone else: I struggle just the same.

Indeed, no job is easy. But should life be this hard?

When the struggling changes from “time to time” to “all the time”… how far should you put up with it until you reach a point when enough is enough? How many cycles can you endure until you expire yourself out? What do you do when your job no longer makes you feel fulfilled?

Because in my job now, as we move one step forward, we always take two steps back. And I no longer know if I should carry on with this line of work for a living, or if this is just another mess I can rise above from…

I couldn't help but wonder…

is it time …
… to quit?

Happy 70th GBs, iTunes!

2011-07-17T10:27:00.001+08:00

Happy 70th GBs of fantastic music, iTunes!!! Love you so much!!!

Transitions

2011-07-05T16:16:00.001+08:00

Maria Shriver once asked, “How do you handle transitions in your life?” And it spoke to me so much. Below is her YouTube Video, and below it is the transcript. Does it speak to you the same way it speaks to me?

Like, a lot of you are in transition. And people come up to me all the time and go:

"What are you doing next?"

"What are you going to do?"

"What have you come up with?"

"I hope you're getting time to relax, and think, and take a break."

It's so stressful to not know what you're doing next. When people ask you "what are you doing?" and then they can't believe that you don't know what you're doing. And then every idea you have, you think "Well, maybe I shouldn't do that..." So I thought to myself: I'll ask you guys

How do you think you can really have an impact in 2011, in the world, when ... the world seems to be blowing up?

And I'd like to hear from other people who are in transition. How did you find your transition? Personal, professional, emotional, spiritual, financial? How did you get through it? What were the three things that enabled you to get through your transition? What did you - after you've transitioned - what do you wish you would've known?

I wrote a book a long time ago, "10 Things I Wish I Would've Known Before I Went Out Into The Real World." Tell me some things you wish you would've known before you transitioned. It might be what could help me.

I Love You, Candace Bushnell

2011-07-03T19:37:00.001+08:00

She was so nice to send me - directly to me, like to my house! - her autograph!!!

Thank you so much, Candace. Thank you so much for taking the time sending it over. It's so old school to get an autograph - just the way I like it.

I'll stick it on my Summer and the City book. I loved it so much, can't wait for next year!!!

Chapter 10: Beginnings and Endings

2011-07-03T18:33:00.001+08:00

There’s time for Beginnings. And time for Endings. In between is when we should savor the moments getting from one point to another.

Throughout the years where I spent it, I could say I’ve come far. It may not be the farthest, but the length I’ve reached is farther than I could ever have fathomed, considering my humble beginnings. To ask for more is beyond my wildest imagination.

Some say they are entitled to a greater fate. Some say they deserve better than what they put up with. I never dared to say either, because I come from a simple life. I’ve learned to count my blessings, and I’ve learned that I have it in abundance. I’ve also come to appreciate several accomplishments I’m thankful to have been duly recognized for. Nevertheless, I don’t regard myself any better than anyone else.

I can’t even begin to say how blessed I am with my life. But even though I’m thankful and humbled with what I’ve been provided, nothing is perfect.

Somewhere, somehow, something’s always awry … leading to discontent, or even worse: unhappiness. There are times when the wrongs can be corrected, and it serves as the driving force fueling your determination. But what do you do when there’s seemingly no glimmer of hope at the end of the tunnel? Do you savor these times and hope for a happy ending?

When the times exhibit symptoms of the beginning of the end, where will you be? At one point, you have to make a choice either to stay and fight till the end, or go and rebuild somewhere else while you still have time. Is leaving a sign of weakness, surrendering and just giving up? Or is it a sign of strength, taking it upon your own hands to find your own salvation?

What is the right thing to do?

When the end is upon you, should you stay … or should you go?

Water For Elephants

2011-06-25T21:29:00.001+08:00

Join me as I open the book and turn the pages of Water For Elephants. I'm rather glad that I never saw the film, because I think it stunk and it's better to have been kept as a book.

I haven't gotten too far reading it, but the first few chapters have been satisfying and hasn't failed to pique my interest.

The Lost Symbol

2011-06-25T21:17:00.001+08:00

I just finished The Lost Symbol and I still feel flushed. The action packed, fast paced night of Robert Langdon taking you through Washington, DC doesn't fail. There's a planned movie for 2012 for this and I can't wait to see it in the big screen.

Though nothing beats the previous book's allure of Europe and the complications of Leonardo the Vinci, the world of masonry and the fictional secrets wrapped around actual places are just as effective in Dan Brown's intricate story telling, making it sound plausible and intriguing.

I'm so happy that I came along a TV special regarding Masonry that prominently featured the book. So I bought it. And digested it quick. I'm still recuperating from the rush it took me through.

This book is a like!

Can't Wait For iOS 5

2011-06-19T15:25:00.001+08:00

I can't wait to get the latest update when they release it in the Fall.

Summer and the City

2011-06-18T20:37:00.001+08:00

Lighthearted. Love. Finished this too quickly. Can't wait for the next book to come out. Another year I guess.

Heart!

Chapter 9: Regrets

2011-06-09T22:31:00.001+08:00

Sometimes I feel so wayward. Then I end up pining for what is naught.

When you’re stuck in a place you feel like running away from, when you make a decision too late, when the chance has already passed you by, it’s easy to succumb to the overwhelming feeling of regret.

Regret.

Why does that word resonate like a trembling echo in the caves of my head? Do words create deep crevices in your soul when you’re actually living its definition?

I look at my life sometimes and wonder why I feel like I’m living one I regret. There had been times when it felt like life was so awful that the simple resolution would be to quit and get it over with.

I find myself entertaining that thought more often than I should. My natural impulse of course is to go against it. The given fears of facing uncertainties often win. But just when I think I’ve gotten past the allure of simply giving up and running away, I think about all those who’ve gone away before me. They didn’t end so miserably the way I’d horribly play it out in my mind.

The push and pull of it all is enough to rattle me off my balance. And I’ve become my own paradox. Never in my life have I been both so rebellious and compliant at the same time. When I throw it all off my head though, my mind fills with nothing but regrets… wishing I had found some other place already, hating myself for not being able to decide on what to do once and for all, looking back at the times when I could’ve taken what was offered to me in other places.

Normally, I hate regretting things. But sometimes it’s much easier to think about the coulda woulda shoulda’s.

The Imperfectionists

2011-06-04T16:58:00.001+08:00

I knew this book was special. Great read. I devoured this book so quickly because it was so delicious.

It's a story of people working for the daily newspaper based off Rome. You go through, as a reader, each significant character's highs and lows. Though they may seem at the top of their game - money, success, sex - they get derailed beyond the confines of the publishing house and all find their seemingly perfect lives suddenly imperfect.

The story's spine is the paper's history, how it started, and how it grew through the decades. And as each character's fucked up lives go on, so does the paper's history, and they all meet in the end with the same fate and move on from there.

The Imperfectionists is a great story to read. It seduces you with Italy, and entertains you with characters so colorful they could easily be real people. No wonder Brad Pitt picked up the movie rights for this one.

It's a great bounce off the awful book I just finished a week ago. Hope you can grab your own copy - it's hard to find.

Super Sad True Love Story

2011-05-28T18:41:00.001+08:00

I had to postpone writing this in my blog because I wasn't entirely sure why I was so hungry to read it full first before I said anything. Then I finished the book, and realized I had psyched myself up that this book was any good.

It's super sad that the book Super Sad True Love Story never felt like a love story at all, making me wonder if anyone can feel sadness over something that barely made you love it.

Basically, it's a fetish book. It's a white man with a fetish for Asian women and geeky gadgets. I don't know why Michiko Kakutani liked it so much. Maybe she shares the same fetishes too. But this book is just - start to finish - awful. Awful, awful, awful.

I had picked up this book because the publicity was funny. But really the fun stops in the publicity from YouTube videos. I'm sure the author is a very vibrant and wonderful person - from the looks of it. Maybe if you were American - a New Yorker specifically - with a fetish for Asian women and fancied how iPhones would end up becoming in the future, you'd kinda like it.

Stay away from this book. It'll make you super sad you bought it in the first place.

Chapter 8: Story-less

2011-05-28T18:06:00.001+08:00

I feel story-less.

Though my life couldn’t be any less busy, I can’t seem to find anything to write about. There are, in my professional life, so much to learn from and so much to do. But work is nothing but something to fill your days anyway. For me, real life was always outside the office cubicle.

I never seem to find myself outside the confines of my office desk though.

Many say: work hard, play harder. But really when you’re working hard, you’ve got no time for play. Hardly any time for anything else at all. So what I’m really saying is: I have no life outside work. Seems to be that way the more I try to make sure I’m getting things done at work, the less time I have to find my stories and be inspired to write.

It’s not like I have writer’s block, because I draw up so much paperwork in the office. I write up to thousands of words and shoot out emails like there’s no tomorrow. I write up so much documentation. I converse with people in order to get things done. My mind never really ever goes blank.

But when it’s time to sit down and think about the next story, the next chapter (for my way over due 27 stories) I end up with zilch.

So here I am, weakly justifying my eight chapter that’s basically about not being able to write about a story. So forgive me for pressing the Publish button.

Click!

Chapter 7: Moth To A Flame

2011-05-08T15:47:00.001+08:00

Maybe I've been burned and left charred to die too many times: my fatal attraction to flame has died.

We're all moths attracted to fire. Why wouldn't we? It's warm and enlightening. But when you've been burned so many times like I have, when you get too close to it too many times, you'll learn what trauma really is.

I hadn't been the smartest kid in the block. I've made mistakes like everyone else. To some degree, for the longest time, I carried on thinking I was damaged goods. I still revisit this feeling from time to time, in my lowest points. But there are certain things that can happen to you that are out of your control, adding to the damage you already have.

Success never comes unless you come rising from the ashes of mistakes. And I suppose that's where I've been - from the flames of both my stupid choices and forces of nature. It wasn't until I was burned too much I learned that what I was doing was wrong. By then my faults had exasperated into trauma, into a stretch of endless self-doubt, into a place of abysmal demise.

Since then, I've been quick in cutting it off the moment something bad happens. Exposing yourself to your haunting trauma is not a way to live. So when something pricks me the wrong way, I throw it away along with everything else that came with it. When I experience a negative feeling from some place - regardless of how beautiful a place it may be - I'd never set foot in it. When someone does me wrong, I exorcise them out of my life to keep them from eating at me.

Trauma so vigorous can drive you mad. And, with my predisposition to neurotic stress, dealing with it can become over consuming. Simply put: I don't have room for trauma; I don't have time for trauma. There are certain things I'd never want to be near to ever again because it brings me closer to things, places, or people I've deemed unsafe to be around with.

We all have our coping mechanisms. And if you're a survivor, you hold on to anything you can to continue living in peace, because there's no worse feeling when you're reminded of all the damage and heartache you had to endure to get to where you are now.

Keep away from the fire.

Chapter 6: Forces Of Nature

2011-05-01T09:30:00.000+08:00

When your actions fuck someone else's life, you end up fucking your own.

There's no escaping the effect of the cause. A harmless ripple, over time and distance, can turn into a tsunami that can wipe you off the face of the planet. A huge wave washed over me a lifetime ago. And it was an unpreventable, unpredictable, unexpected force of nature I couldn't have ever conceived. But it happened anyway. And I dealt with it.

Of course, you could never forget a traumatic disaster. What ate me the most was that people got away without consequences. I, however, had to pay every cent of the dues ... then twice over.

I thought if I waited it out, it would all be buried and forgotten. But somehow, the demon haunting my life ascended from the depths of hell where I had buried it, and came back to terrorize me. In my own safe place. Then I thought to myself:

Why is this happening to me?

Haven't I suffered enough? Wasn't I the victim here? Then why, in all of the places in the world, my nightmares decided to come to life in a place I've called home for so long? Why is the man who fucked my life up back to fuck my life up more?

I was puzzled. I didn't realize at first what was unfolding. Apparently, it was his turn to face his unpreventable, unpredictable, unexpected turn of the tides. It was his turn, for all the shit he's committed onto others, to be the one washed off the face of the planet, to be the one to drown from the effect of his selfish causes, to pay back what he had stolen from me. His mistakes had caught up with him, finally ... And it all happened in my own turf for me to witness, for my own convenience.

I had nothing to do with your fatal wipeout. You had cut your ways through life too many times just to satisfy your own selfish needs, without a care whether you're wrecking other people's quiet lives or not. You're a heartless tyrant devoid of capacity or worth. You had taken so many things from people who had so little to begin with - because you're greedy and corrupt. You step on people just so you can step up somewhere you think you deserve to be. You've fucked so many people over, but life's come back with a vengeance.

I suppose justice naturally works that way. It's a force greater than any of us. No one gets away with it.

When you fuck the shit out of someone else's life, then life will fuck the shit out of yours.

Beauty and the Beast, Home

2011-04-29T11:24:00.001+08:00

Is this home…?
Is this where
I should learn
To be happy…?
Never dreamed
That a home could be
Dark and cold…
I was told
Everyday in my childhood
Even when we grow old...
Home should be where
The heart is
Never were words so true...
My heart's far...
Far away...
Home is, too...

Is this home...?
Is this what
I must learn
To believe in?
Try to find
Something good
In this tragic place...?
Just in case
I should stay here
Forever
Held in this empty space...
Oh but that won't be easy...
I know the reason why...
My heart's far
Far away
Home's alike...

What I'd give
To return
To the life that I knew lately
But I know
Now I can't
All my problems going by...

Is this home...?
Am I here for a day
Or forever...?
Shut away...
From the world until
Who knows when...?
Oh but then...
As my life has been
Altered once
It can change again...
Build higher walls around me...
Change every lock and key...
Nothing lasts...
Nothing holds...
All of me...
My heart's far...
Far away...
Home... and... free...

New Wallpaper!

2011-04-21T14:37:00.001+08:00

I don't know if I like it yet, but I'm sharing it anyway!

Chapter 5: Rainbows and Rings

2011-04-21T12:39:00.001+08:00

Many people compliment me on certain special things in my fingers. And, of course, it makes me feel oh so good.

My Rainbow ring is the show stopper. It took a while to finally get mine made. It all started when I chanced upon a ring so special and out of reach, that I thought to myself,

I'm gonna get one of those one day.

And I did. So thankful that I did. So humbled that I could.

It took a while before I got myself one. Because it was so special and so expensive, I had to find ways to cut costs. We had to make several trips to different jewelers to get my ROYGBIV stones, minus the Indigo coz what the hell color is it anyway?

And then, when I got the princess cut collection complete, oh. my. god. I had it set in white gold, to pair with my Grandmother's heirloom diamonds, and after an arm and a limb, it was home. On my finger. Forever.

That ring means so much to me. Because it was a testament of all the pay off you get for all the hard work you put yourself through. And for once, I had done something for myself, something I didn't owe anybody for, something I had given myself because I deserved it.

Up to this day, people still notice the ring. Always compliment it. Of course I say thanks. So thankful. Because it is the product of so much hard work, wrapped in my finger, forever. Everybody should have a totem of their own, to mark their own personal successes. Whatever it may be, it will always be recognized and praised.

New Avatar, iPhone Logo

2011-04-10T23:00:00.002+08:00

I got tired of the old rainbow, but still in love with the grungy gray, so I made a new avatar, to match my logo, and updated my everything else.

I know it's a side post, I'll make up some new incoherent chapter to 27 stories tomorrow.

Chapter 4: And Then Monday Came

2011-04-10T20:36:00.001+08:00

The end of the weekend is another Monday.

We wake up from alarm clocks. We eat our breakfast. We shower and clean ourselves up. We put on our outfits, then shuffle ourselves to the tubes of traffic (or traffic jams), along with everyone else who are reporting to work.

We start our days by opening our emails, whipping up our coffees, and saying good morning to everyone. It's always the mornings that go by so fast, until we have to go grab some lunch, and buy another set of coffee to prepare us for the afternoon.

Afternoons take the longest.

We join in our conference calls. We finish up the important things - reports, screen shots, results of our analyses - and send them out as we planned in the morning. We do our meetings, and come out laughing, or determined, or bogged down by the more work we need to do. Then we hit the six o'clock mark.

Sometimes we have more shit to work on, that we choose to either do on the next day, or stay over time for. When we decide to leave, we pack our stuff and bring out the keys, or wait for our loved ones who so wonderfully take the time to pick us up form where we spend our days.

Today is a Sunday. And just when you think your weekend would never come to a stop, the clock will hit midnight, and it's a Monday all over again.

Chapter 3: STFU

2011-04-08T17:59:00.001+08:00

Last year I spent every single work day in conference calls. It was partly because the job demanded it, which was fine. What I couldn't bear was I had to be extra chatty, pouring additional effort and time to explain every single damn thing to aid a manager abroad who was ... (how do I put this delicately?) - a dimwit.

It's probably safe to assume that I've spoken twice as much last year, and lost voice more times in that year alone than my entire life put together. Since the dimwit left, life's become ever so simpler. I was no longer required to stretch my vocal cords any more than I already have, no longer required to verbalize facts because I was running the show now, and it couldn't be any smoother. So now I sit in silence. I never realized, after so much talk, that

all I want to do is to shut the fuck up.

I kept comments at a minimum in the ones I was required to be part of. I took my days slow, waited for the clock to hit six, and slink out unnoticed. I kept silent in my chair and did what I did. I would go through the course of my day without so much a "good morning" to a soul, or a "goodbye" to anyone when I leave.

For months I led this life, this seemingly invisible existence - a stark contrast from last year, where I was practically magnified on a microscope - and lived a quiet life. But it has got to stop. The days of shutting the fuck up is up.

It's not a way to live, I've come to realize. I've never been so detached and estranged for so long from people I've known and worked with for years and years. If it was deafening noise last year, it's deafening silence this time.

Time to start speaking the fuck up.

Chapter 2: The Place

2011-04-06T18:56:00.001+08:00

I have a recurring dream haunting me.

This dream isn’t the kind where the same scenario keeps playing over and over in my sleep. Rather, my dreams take me to a certain place, one so familiar to me now because I’ve been taken there dozens of times in my mind. Many things have happened in this place. Though it wasn’t always scary, it wasn’t always a safe place either.

Sometimes they’d be sweet dreams. Sometimes they’d be horrific nightmares. But they always happen in the same place. That eternally sunny grass field with swimming pools and cemented fountains, dangling on a side of a cliff. The sky was always eternally white, like the way they look in an over exposed photo, but never too bright to make you want to squint your eyes, and the weather was fine and breezy. The nights were stark black though, not even a single star to look up to. It’s like some patch of land floating in endless nowhere, either bright and vibrant, or dark and desolate.

My dream would normally start with me strolling through a plain pavement. Then I'd be able to spot some kind of landscaping: a cemented splash area with those hole-in-the-ground kind of water fountains, spewing pulsating squirts into the air. It’s an off road cliff that angles downward, but not too steep that you couldn’t walk by foot all the way down. Sometimes for fun, I’d descend through the cemented water slide to get to the fountains.

When you arrive at the water frenzy below, there’s a bungalow house to the left with the exterior colored in maroon, lengthwise in shape and runs just along the side of the splash space. It was a place you could sleep in, or hide, or watch people from. Across it (to the right of the fountain) is a big covered pool, filled with clear blue water inviting you to dive in or wade through.

While it appears to be a place of sweet escape (why wouldn’t it?), it wasn’t always a nice refuge. I’ve had my fun there, of course. I’ve spent water fights there and never found myself tired, or hungry or thirsty. I’ve sat peacefully by the pool reading books or acquiring some kind of omnipotent understanding of the universe, maybe even talk to God. I’ve sun bathed without ever needing to rehydrate or put on sun block. But hellish things would happen there, too.

There were times when I’d see someone hosing a giant vicious snake in the fountain area, being tended to, like a pet. I’d be hiding in the house - I’m dead terrified of snakes. Then the snake would catch me peeking through the window, and I’d soon realize I was put there to be its meal. The snake would then try to force its way violently inside the bungalow house. And I’d be fighting for my life, trying not to be bit or eaten.

Then there were times when I’d be locked inside the house, finding a way out, trying to run away from some murderous asylum escapee out to slaughter me. Sometimes I’d be able to go out, but the endless white sky would turn into an abysmal stretch of darkness, and I’d run blindly and desperately, feeling my legs melting as if I were running under water.

There were other times, like my most recent dream this week, when I’d try to escape this recurring place in my dreams, feeling imprisoned, against my will. I’d run onto the pavement atop the hill and flee. Then a wave of water would wash over me and flood everything in sight. I’d swim through each swamped obstacle, through the submerged playgrounds, and tractors, and algae gardens, swimming through monstrously grotesque sea creatures lurking in the marshes, only to find myself having gone full circle and arriving to the same place I was trying to run from.

I could never understand where this place in my dreams came from, or why or how my subconscious made it up. I guess it’s some metaphor symbolizing the places we all find ourselves in, where both good and bad things can happen. We can’t escape it, no matter how hard we try. Perhaps it’s the reason why the dream keeps haunting me, because I often forget that running away takes you nowhere, and that we have to do everything we can to survive.

Thankfully, I’d always wake up just in time. I’d be back in my bed. In a place we call the real world. But there’s no telling when my mind will bring me back to that place again, where there’s no way to know if it’s going to be a dream … or a nightmare.

Chapter 1: Genesis

2011-04-05T14:41:00.001+08:00

It wasn't always this good.

I could write litanies of how bad it used to be. I could clearly remember the endless nights I'd cry myself to sleep, literally asking God to take my breath and ask that I never wake up again. Growing up different in a uniform community was difficult. But I wasn’t alone. I know many share the hardships of growing up in a time when you were most vulnerable and the world outside was cruel as Hell. But somehow, I came through. And I’m so thankful it got better.

Throughout the years, I always felt like I’ve fallen into the cracks, and everything else kind of fell into place. I had to go through enough turmoil to be able to stand on my own, sort myself out, and arrive in a place I consider as stable and safe.

Certain snapshots of my childhood recur to me like bad déjà vu, though. In many ways, I still carry bits and pieces of things that wounded me. Don’t we all do? Something would happen in the present that would trigger the memories and feelings of what you’ve already been through, and I get transported back in time.

Like the time when I was young in one of those never ending summer breaks, where you could stay over your uncle’s place and spend time with your cousins for weeks. They lived near some mall whose name I now can’t recall. We donned our latest summer clothes for a day at the mall. I still remember the details of the shirt I wore that day. It was purple, with a shiny holographic kind of figure printed in the middle, maybe a polo player on a horse, or some obscure cartoon. To get to the mall, we had to walk in some main road avenue. Going to the mall unsupervised by parents would make any tween feel giddy. And we were extra ecstatic at the time. While we were happily strolling under the hot sun, our joy was suddenly usurped with shame, maybe shock, too, when a truck full of provincial construction workers yelled at the top of their lungs (in vernacular) something short of “faggots!”. Maybe my purple shirt gave it away. Or maybe our extra gaily strut. But one thing was for sure:

It was mortifying.

I couldn’t really remember what happened after that. Do you ever recall anything after public humiliation? I’m sure we continued our way to the mall; sure we went to eat at McDonald’s. I’m sure, right after being berated, we rushed to scoffing it off like dander, and went onto the next topic to deviate from the public shame shot to us by some squatter who could barely make ends meet. For a kid who minded his own business, who kept to himself and grew up a wallflower, such a public and cruel ridicule was so unnerving. It was … traumatic.

I’m sure my cousins have buried it deep into their subconscious. But the memory for me, like many other humiliating things that’s happened to me throughout my childhood, is as familiarly hurtful as it did to this day.

It wasn’t the only mortifyingly discriminatory situation I’ve been in. I’ve been in them more than I wished to be, some far worse than I would allow myself to share. But… it was one of those things that made me want to make a name for myself. Or at least be the better person. So when I found myself knee-deep in shit like this, I could brush it off and be unfazed, or even better: fight back (and win).

My life turned out to be okay. Better than others, in fact (and I’m so thankful for that). Because I put Meaning to my life. My life has a purpose, and I have no time demeaning others. Our grown up lives is the direct result of our childhood. I learned that what defines us when we’re old are the answers to the questions we asked when we were young. Like “why are people so cruel?” Or “what did I ever do to them?” But I wouldn’t have my childhood – no matter how difficult – be any other way. It was my Genesis: one I can’t deny, and certainly do not at all regret. Because it formed what and who I am today.

Every fortunate event in my life now is welcomed with much appreciation, because in the beginning… it wasn’t always this good. It wasn’t always oh-so-good.

27 Stories

2011-03-29T09:54:00.001+08:00

I want to launch 27 Stories to celebrate the same number significant to myself this year.

It’s not going to be overtly long stories, just anecdotes of things and such that may have directly or indirectly led to where I am now. And in a lighter note, wouldn’t that make a great writing prompt?

I will be picking on my life, and the people who’ve I’ve run into through all these years who may have hurt me, built me, molded me into who I am now. I won’t of course mention them by name (or make up some fake name for their privacies). And I’ll try to keep them as vague as possible. But there’s no telling from here how it’s going to turn out, because I just thought of it now.

Why am I doing this?

Like with everything I do, it has to have a purpose. I’m aiming for people to relate to the stories I might have to share, and come out of it with some sort of learning. I’m not saying that I know all of the answers to life’s questions. But I do know having written 27 stories would be my personal achievement. And I like encouraging people to make their own personal achievements in life. Miracles don’t happen without your own efforts.

I’m off to drafting the first one. I will tag them with “27 Stories”.

I hope my large fan base (all three readers) are jumping up and down!

I Have Nothing

2011-03-27T13:30:00.001+08:00

The easiest to believe - even if it's not the truth - are your own insecurities.

When you tell yourself you have nothing, you forget everything you have and believe almost in an instant that you are worthless. No one's going to be interested in you. No one would want to have anything to do with you. Because, what do you have to offer?

Remarkably, it's so hard to believe the truth. While we don't contest ourselves when we bring ourselves down, we often have to psyche ourselves up and amp up our senses to realize the things that make us great.

Sometimes, I settle being satisfied for being what I am, and accept the limitations of what I can and cannot do, and feel so lucky to be where I am now. To settle to that feeling is sometimes a battle you have to constantly fight. Unfortunately, it gets the best of me, and I tumble into this falling despair that I have nothing.

But I have everything, really.
So much, really.

I couldn't imagine having any less or any more, because I've been blessed, in so many ways, in contrast to all others who have it worse. Finding your self worth is a fight you have to constantly win, else you'll find yourself whining and fucked up.

So dear reader, don't ever think you have nothing... Don't lose the fight...

Tides, And Times

2011-03-26T13:46:00.001+08:00

I was on a self imposed (that turned out to be an inadvertent) vow of silence.

I had spent the last year exceedingly verbal, to the point that I lost my voice because of it. And life now is much quieter.

Maybe some masochistic part of me found purpose when I was living in hell. Because I was the appointed marshal for putting out the fires from our insufferable Luciferic predicament that is 5'10" of a woman with questionable capabilities. And when she left, it was one of the most satisfyingly rewarding twist of fate I'd even been through recently.

In mournful relief, I had been catapulted to some limbo where I could recuperate. It was there where I found myself almost totally mute. I'd never been so peacefully quiet, for the first time in a long time, when I wouldn't be asked to clean up the shit clogging the drain.

And, while in Limbo, one thing led to another, and somehow the things I thought I could come back to were blown away by the hands of fate.

That's fine I suppose. It's a load off me. I could restart and reboot, after wading in the waters of hibernation, and renew myself - my outdated self. I wouldn't have to feel like a dinosaur anymore.

For now, I'd let the tides wash me to wherever that Somewhere Else may be. For now, I'll just enjoy my limbo.

Trying To Write

2011-03-12T20:25:00.001+08:00

I think I’m going crazy.

Somewhere, between my search for my Somewhere Else against my constant struggle muffling the sounds of the screams in my head, my mind is close to snapping … and I’m afraid I’m in the brink of manic depression.

With my mind all over the place, I find it hard to hone down on one topic and write about it. Afraid of constantly writing depressing entries, and at the same time consciously aware of more important things going on in the world right now … I find myself trying to write tonight.

But what am I going to write about?

But in this night of blind madness, everything's rushing in too fast, and at the same time my mind is running blank; seemingly unable to make sense of anything I'm trying to say here.

Why am I even trying?

I suppose it's always been cathartic for me to write my feelings down, where I have a chance to admit my weaknesses, or failures, or triumphs, or defining moments. And seeing the page I'm typing on now is some sort of release from burden, keeping my sanity in check.

I really hope things get better in the world. Most especially mine. Because the chaos is driving me mad.

My Somewhere Else

2011-03-08T17:13:00.001+08:00

Dear God,

Hi . I hope your reading my blog.

I know there are more important things you need to tend do. But I heard prayers are never left unanswered. I don’t pray often, as you might already know. Most of the time, I do everything I can in my power to sort things on my own. But I’ve gone desperate and alone in this losing fight, and I need you now.

I have been desperately seeking a way out of this unhappiness. Perhaps you’ve seen me crying quietly in my desk several times a week? Now I come to you with utmost humility, please, please, hear me.

I ask for one simple thing: please help me find my Somewhere Else. Help me find a place I can bring myself anew. I’ve done everything I can here, maybe even beyond that. And in this day marking my fourth full year of service, it’s time for me to go. But I’m lost, and I don’t know where to find my Somewhere Else, I don’t know where I can find new purpose in my life.

I’m losing my sense of worth here where I am now. And I’m scared that if I don’t let go soon, my colors might fade away and become a shadow in the dark…

Please come and save me…

Survival Secrets

2011-03-06T21:42:00.001+08:00

Everyone has a way of getting by.

To some, getting by is an easy task, any time, any where. Others find difficulty adjusting to areas out of their comfort zones. And we all need to survive.

Hadn't I expected all this change?

I may have thought of it differently. I had thought the change bound this year was inward, something I’d instigate; where I’d find myself washing ashore somewhere else; immersing myself to a whole new world. But here I am, still in the same place, while everyone else seems to be moving on to the outside world.

Marooned.

In these deserted times, we need to find ways to survive to get through the day. Sometimes, surviving isn't always hopping onto another dry land. Sometimes, in order to live, we need to be able to make do on what we have in the place we currently are. But I don't have the gift of survival. I find it hard most of the time. And extra hard when you're battling with unhappiness.

No man is an island. And I can feel it ever so poignantly now.

Still Gray... Now Grungy

2011-03-06T20:08:00.001+08:00

Haven't been posting what kind of wallpapers I've been using. Not like anybody cares.

I've been recycling the lot I've acquired over the years. Now I'm reviving the Scrap Metal wallpaper I've used before, maybe even blogged about already. But I had to do some tweaking because it was too dark to use.

To the guy who made this, thanks for the unsuspectingly cathartic grunge wallpaper that mirrors the way I feel lately!

A Letter To Myself

2011-02-24T10:11:00.001+08:00

Several months ago, I was involved in some professional / personal management class. And, coming out of it, we were asked to write a note to ourselves to be read in the future, particularly, on Valentine’s day. It was supposed to remind us of what we learned from the one week session we had, and how much better we were now that we knew the secrets on how to be an effective manager.

So on Valentine’s Day, HR sent us our notes to ourselves. As I am amidst my drowning sorrow these past few weeks, opening it was postponed till now.

Here’s what I wrote to myself.

Cheti,
Continue to be inspirational to others. Encourage people to grow. Do not spite people because of their short comings, believe in them, support them, and trust that they'd get better. Push motivationally. And be happy at all times.
Yourself,
Cheti

I suppose you can say my past self was able to touch my present self, somehow. That’s enough to help me get through this self deprecating depression I’m going through.

Nowhere To Go

2011-02-22T23:14:00.001+08:00

What do you do when you want to leave ... without anywhere to go?

It's my fault really. Who'd have thought that optimism would be bad for you? I was genuinely hoping that my time off could help me bounce back from this nightmare. But it just feels more and more like a reality rather than a dream. It's starting to be a constant state of life, rather than just being a phase that will pass.

And I want to leave. But, where was I to go? Was I going to abandon everything ... for nothing? Is it either let go with nothing, or hold on unhappily?

I refuse to believe that success can only be found in one place. But, where can you find another place? And ... how do you get there? When you want to travel somewhere that's not a place you can Google Map in this Earth, you can't help sometimes feeling lost. Or feeling like you've reached a dead end.

Where to go... Where to go...

Need To Find A Way Out

2011-02-14T17:10:00.002+08:00

Everyday, I come in and go through my usual morning routine. I sit, I open my laptop, and unpack my daily essentials. Then concoct my morning coffee.

I've been doing this routine for four years now. So much has happened. Many people have come and gone. So much pressure's been dealt with. And too much shit has gone down the drain.

Has it really been that long?

I had stayed here for so long because I was happy. But for the long recent while ... I hadn't been. Of course I made ways to make it work, through purpose, finding benefits, and constantly jading myself.

There were days I felt so fulfilled that this feeling would go away like a bad dream. But then there were days like this, where the feeling was so real ... and so bad ... that I couldn't help but feel like I'm drowning.

I am unhappy here…

I couldn't help but wonder if it was so bad staying here. If it was, where was I going to go? You wouldn't be able to say I didn't do what I could to make it work. I tried. And tried. And tried really hard. For what it's worth, I've done good here. I am valued here. But somehow, it's not working anymore… I need to find a way out…

Wearing White

2011-02-04T20:43:00.001+08:00

Yesterday I wore a crisp white shirt. For the longest time, I hand’t been putting it on for some reason. Wearing it again made me feel at ease, I’ve had it for a quite a few years now.

Despite it’s glaring flaws - like how it doesn’t handle perspiration well, or like how it wrinkles so damn fast, or like how the material is obviously thinning - I still love wearing it. But I’ve been avoiding wearing it for the longest time. Yesterday though, was a day I felt wearing white: pure, clean, serene… until you sit down on a dirty chair.

That morning, I went downstairs smoking a cigarette, waiting for a friend to come meet me, and at the same time preoccupied with my book and chose to sit on one of the available stainless chairs.

The next thing I know, my shirt was stained all around by some mystic black shitty shit… some people prefer the noun “dust”. And there were a lot of them. You can’t pat it off because it’s stuck like magnet, between the fabric.

Sure I got over it, and tried over and over to pat it off until I convinced myself it looks like shadow anyway, and it hides well behind all the wrinkling. But it made me remember all this time I’ve been avoiding the shirt because I knew somehow, I’d stain it, the way I’ve stained it over the number of years that I’ve had it, in all the times I’ve worn it.

I suppose there are people who can wear white and not spill on it. But not me. I’ve always been the guy who stains the shirt on his back. Back to the closet for you!

Mistakes

2011-01-27T23:21:00.001+08:00

Have you ever done something you wish you hadn’t?

When the grave choices we’ve made lead to an onerous mistake, we end up pining so hard that sometimes we find ourselves in regret. And we are left to face every living day with the bitter consequences of our actions. Often, to soften the blow, we sometimes console ourselves to learn from where we went wrong.

Sadly, there are mistakes that change lives. And in those moments, we wish so hard to be able to turn back the hands of time, to redo what we wish we hadn’t done, to avoid the change it’s brought upon us, to escape the regret for the things that led to the unpleasant shift in our lives we might not have prepared for.

What can we do? There is no turning back in the labyrinth of Life. We choose the path to tread, but when we let ourselves get taken away, and when we fight against control or fight against better judgment, we may find ourselves in a place we wish we weren’t.

Mistakes can be awful. But some can't be avoided. To some extent, we need them. If we never made mistakes, we'd never know right from wrong. We need to make a wrong turn sometimes in order to be found. We need to be wrong sometimes in order to be corrected. We need to fall to be redeemed.

But no matter how essential mistakes can be in our lives. Nothing really makes it less awful...

Revisiting Eat. Pray. Love.

2011-01-23T21:52:00.001+08:00

For some reason, I've been looking back at the movie Eat. Pray. Love. I've reviewed it before, but was envious someone had lived that kind of life. I never thought I'd come back to it with such sentiment. We've established earlier that this is a kind of life you'd think was fiction, but it's real. The problem of finding yourself, on how difficult it is for you to find your "self", could never be any realer.

In one of the most touching scenes the character Julia Roberts plays, she goes to visit the Augusteum in Rome. I sat up and washed myself wet as the voice over rained on me, resonating inside me like a loud thunderstorm we all find ourselves in sometimes...

"A friend took me to the most amazing place the other day. It’s called the Augusteum. Octavian Augustus built it to house his remains. When the barbarians came they trashed it, along with everything else.
The great Augustus, Rome’s first true great emperor: how could he have imagined that Rome, the whole world as far as he was concerned, would be in ruins?
It’s one of the quietest, loneliest places in Rome. The city has grown up around it over the centuries. It feels like a precious wound, a heartbreak you won’t let go of - because it hurts too good.
We all want things to stay the same. Settle for living in misery because we’re afraid of change, of things crumbling to ruins. Then I looked around this place, at the chaos it has endured – the way it has been adapted, burned, pillaged and found a way to build itself back up again. And I was reassured: maybe my life hasn’t been so chaotic, it’s just the world that is, and the real trap is getting attached to any of it.
Ruin is a gift. Ruin is the road to transformation."

It couldn't ring any truer. We're so afraid of change sometimes, it paralyzes us. But when the ground you stand on shake, it's a chance for us to fix the floor. Or change location.

I got a copy of the book. Will eventually get a copy of the DVD.

Growing Pains

2011-01-16T23:16:00.001+08:00

The entire weekend, I wanted to write.

On rare occasions, I take the time to take time off work, off from my busy schedule, to relax. So when I saw a window on a Friday with no deliverables and with nothing looking to be urgent, I took it. I decided it could be a long weekend for me. Enough time to recuperate. Enough time to recharge. Enough time to think about what to write next.

But I have a problem.

I've long decided that I should always write about something others can relate to. But never at the expense of my personal life, or anyone I know. Always vague and but specific, general safe topics that has a point. And when I thought about the topic I was hoping to write, there's no way for me to tell the story without re-igniting the flames we've already put out. Or is there?

Certain things are better left unsaid. But some things left unsaid sometimes fester into bitterness. So those who keep quiet avoiding adult confrontations end up with their mouths zipped, rotting in distaste.

I don't want to be like that. I make it my business to know what others think of me, after all. Those who don't give a fuck either have lost their sense of reputation, or are against the world in a losing fight.

If we were in a playground, sure we can push and shove. But sometimes things can go rough. We can cry, run away, and cower in the corner. Kids don't know any better. But see, we're no longer in playgrounds. We no longer play with swings and seesaws. We are adults now: attaché case holding, power dressing, office working adults. So when an altercation erupts, it's kind of stupid to cry, run away, and cower in the corner. That's not what adults do.

Adults talk things through and get over stuff. Grown ups confront each other, mitigate their cases, and sort matters out. And, when adults make mistakes, they own it and say sorry for it. Adults accept apologies, too. Other adults do. But others don't.

Perhaps adulthood, like High School, have grades: Freshmen, Sophomores, Juniors, Seniors. We're all in the same campus, but our experiences and wisdom differ from each other. Maybe that's why, when we talk to other adults, they don't respond the same way as we'd expect. Others don't know yet how to act appropriately. Others don't know any better. It's not anyone's fault, and it's fine.

I have no ill feelings.

You'd be surprised at how much others harbor those feelings and cling onto it in the playground. That's too bad... because they end up with their mouths zipped, rotting in distaste.

No Room For Goodbyes

2011-01-13T09:44:00.001+08:00

When I dropped by his room today and found that he wasn't around, something invited me in.

So I switched on the lights, looked around, and something felt wrong. Or sad. Or just extremely discomforting. Seeing it empty had knocked me off my feet. Of course it's just a room. Just a place for a person to sit. But it was a room of hope. Of challenge. Of overcome. For me, at least.

The moment the news broke, instantly sported a stoic face. But inside, I was screaming. When I try to recall that day, I couldn't really remember what he was saying. I just remember a feeling: that it wasn't going to be good. That from that day on, I would never feel good again.

Of course, the truth is: the day will come for someone to move on. While we can't stop them from going where they want to go, or need to go, or have to go to...

But something felt wrong. Or sad. Or just extremely discomforting...

You Win Some, You Lose Some

2011-01-10T23:25:00.001+08:00

I’m no stranger to the fact that you can’t win them all. But it’s always a bust when you lose.

Winning is exhilarating, of course. Because you’re always in control. You’re always in power. You set out your mind to attain a certain goal, and when you get it, you pocket that little trinket of triumph and go home satisfied. When you lose, you get sidetracked and sometimes come tumbling down. You’d have to pick yourself up back, and do it over.

And that’s some hellish rocky road ahead, I tell ya.

So when I glossed over my inbox and found a letter I’ve been waiting to receive, I suddenly realized that I was getting sidetracked, and there’s a chance I could tumble down and hurt myself. The thing is, I never would’ve thought that not getting something you weren’t really interested in could make you feel so bad.

What a bust.

Chetiboy.com Relaunch Completed!

2011-01-06T21:19:00.001+08:00

My old template expired and was starting to go bland.This change is just in time for 2011. And since the year's theme is starting off as a change anyway, well, here you go!

Mistaken Identities

2011-01-02T18:24:00.001+08:00

_{Thanks for the image!}
I was walking around the city and saw someone I thought I knew. So I shouted the name of the person I thought he was and he ignored me (because he wasn't the person I thought he was), walked passed by me, and I was left mortified.

But you have to admit, it was hilarious!

Lesson of the story is: never shout a name out loud. Even if you’re sure it’s them.

Don't Cry Over Spilt Milk

2011-01-02T15:35:00.001+08:00

Though shalt not sulk. I should know: I used to sulk about everything.

Growing up, it is often said as a consolation to not cry over spilt milk when we make a mess of ourselves. There’s truth behind it, and it's so obvious: which is probably the reason behind why it’s an adage so overused, it’s so easy to be jaded by it. And it’s so hair raising when we see a full grown adult sulking over spilt milk they chose themselves to carry around in a bumpy road ahead.

We all make mistakes. And we all get the shitty end of the stick of our wrong decisions sometimes. But it’s unhealthy to whine and pine over what is naught.

I used to be like that.

So in a way, I can - to some degree - understand this kind of behavior. Whether it’s pressure from work, or relationship woes, or just plain old personality disorder - I’ve been there. And so have other people.

So I’ve learned that it’s not right to wear your troubles like a badge and walk around town telling people you’ve got it worse than anybody else. People don’t pity those who pity themselves.

It’s true that happiness is a choice. And I beg all of you to start the year choosing to be happy and not cry over spilt milk that is the yesteryear.

Cheers!

Suck It, 2010!

2010-12-29T23:01:00.001+08:00

2010 was one shit load of a year.

The year we’re so close to leaving behind was not my favorite, not at all. Looking back at the year that’s soon to have passed by the end of a few more days, it was one difficult ride. So difficult, I may just raise the white flag altogether.

The year I spent at work was like a boat ride on wavy waters, you step in and it starts moving along. And, the entire duration of the trip makes you nauseous. By the end of it, you jump out and puke what you ate for breakfast. Then ask yourself, why did I ever go?

Maybe because we were under new management. At the same time, I drowned in some bullshit contractual paradigm shift with the kind of service we provide for a certain client. This whole year felt so nauseous I’m so ready to vomit it out of my system.

It’s time for a change. And it’s way overdue.

So: suck it 2010!

Happy New Year Everyone!!!

2010-12-27T11:51:00.001+08:00

We are leaving a whole decade behind and opening a whole new one! It's a big New Year's celebration!!! Cheers to you and your loved ones!

Unfinished/Finished Business

2010-12-25T22:25:00.001+08:00

What a year it’s been.

Often challenging, always relentless, the year 2010 banged at our doors with both good news and bad news, losses and triumphs, and ups and downs. And, as we wait for the last days of the year closing off the most recent decade and paving the way for a whole new one, there’s never been a better time to complete any unfinished business.

Though I’ve done everything I could for 2010, there’s still one thing I’ve been stalling to settle: making that one choice I still couldn’t decide upon.

At one point in time, I made a snap decision on the matter. And of course, as with all impulsive calls, you never really would expect the effect of your cause, which would pull you in - like a slingshot - sending you ricocheting back into your comfort zone.

You’d shun it away of course, because you decide to take it back and you don’t want to gain a flakey reputation. You once again dive into the war, and if you lived another day, you’d succumb to the consoling thought of “at least I survived.” But there’s always that lingering thought of “what if...?” So you wait for a sign, a sign that you’d consider as something that would either send you to a foray of newness or make you stop fidgeting in the ease of staying … and staying the same.

So, as we move nearer to the nexus of the last decade, onto the frontier of a new one, as the promise of a new day brings upon us a big dawn of change and possibility, as we start packing our things and leave the year behind … is it time to finally move on? Has the sign I’ve been waiting for finally arrived? Has the time arrived for me to choose and make a decision to finish my one last remaining unfinished business?

Is it time to leave it all behind?

Happy Holidays!

2010-12-21T06:42:00.001+08:00

It's Time For LoVe

2010-11-27T14:02:00.001+08:00

I've never been much of a sucker for designer anything. But as I grow up, I've learned that possession is everything, just as much as appearance is everything, and owning a LoVe is like sitting on top of the world.

Of course I can't shop in a snap, things take time before they can be bought. However, I've promised myself to favor other things than electronics, and I think 2011 is the time for putting my scheming onto execution.

See you at the store!!!

Blogging Without A Cause

2010-11-16T21:15:00.001+08:00

Several days have gone since this urge of mine came upon me. The itch I’ve been trying to scratch is to write something so wonderfully literally strewn, it will blow your shit away.

The problem is: I don't know what to write about. I don’t know what to say. I had little to say a week ago. Then an idea came upon me that felt so great I couldn't sleep, but it was 1) ethically wrong for me to write about, and 2) it would be too negative to publish, even if it were written intricately obscure so as to not directly hit the people I were writing about. So the idea fizzled, and now I have nothing to write about. Again.

I could read about things to spice up my topic thinking head. There’s the writer’s technique to use writing prompts, but I don’t care much about twitter trends enough to write about them - because I’m such a loser with current events and so caught up with my Self. There’s the idea bowl, that up to now, I neither have the bowl nor the ideas to pull out of it. Then there’s the write about anything and don’t care if it doesn’t make sense, so just do it the sake of writing - which is my favorite!

So here it is. I’m writing about nothing. It will Rock. Your. World. I’m so overfed by my favorite blog feeds that I’m throwing a useless post to the cyber space just for the heck of it.

Blogging without a cause, fist pump!

Tricky Waters

2010-11-09T22:25:00.001+08:00

It's tricky waters when you can identify a poorly performing person, even trickier when the poorly performing person is in a position that should be a beacon of excellency. One bad apple can spoil the entire batch.
_{Thanks for the image}
I've always told myself: lead by example. However, just because you abide by your own standards doesn't necessarily mean others do the same. Sometimes, people don't even have standards to live by, at all.

On many occasions, I have been the direct and unfortunate recipient of certain deficiencies of a certain person, and as a team, we try to do what we can to deliver to the best of our efforts. We don't look for rewards when we help others.

But when "helping" transforms into "doing someone else's job", something's terribly wrong.

When a person who's function is to make things function, but he turns out to be Defunct himself, where do you go and what do you do? It's clear that someone for that kind of job shouldn't be a mumbling bumbling mumbo jumbo. And people are catching on. Those who've caught on earlier have all left.

I heard once, that having good character is actually better than being ruthlessly effective. I couldn't agree more. But when being a Saint doesn't do anybody good (provided you were that good), and when inefficiency brings bad business, well... it's tricky waters. Tricky, tricky, tricky...

Thy Kingdom Come, Thy Enchantment Gone

2010-11-07T21:30:00.001+08:00

So long as you are with friends and loved ones, anywhere you go can be a great place to have fun. So when it was decided that we visit Enchanted Kingdom one November 2010 weekend, we were in no doubt expecting to have a great time.

While we indeed had a great time, I went home feeling like the enchantment I saw in Enchanted Kingdom seems to have gone.

The rides are still the same. Surprisingly, in the number of times I've come to visit the theme park in my day, I found that I've stored some muscle memory on how things went on each ride. I subconsciously knew how to react on each turn of the track, or each sway of the boat. The rides are still the same, never repackaged, no new twist, no nothing.

But wait, there is something and not entirely no nothing! There are a couple new attractions that diversify the staggered stagnancy that is Space Shuttle and Anchor's Away, or at least tries to diversify.

You have to pay — a nominal amount, thank goodness — if you want to participate in the Tower Drop that lifts you and drops you for the zero gravity thrill, or Shake Rattle and Roll Experience (SRR:X) horror house so cheap: your 3G phone bill is even scarier, Zorb A.K.A. microwave in a ball for kids, or anything else that is new. The amount differs between 50 - 100 bucks, depending on the kind of pass you already paid for. But why do you need to pay extra for a Theme Park Ride that isn't life shatteringly good and can't justify why you paid for the All Entry Pass in the first place?

The facilities are showing age, too. Since it opened in 1995, the infrastructure and architectural notes are intact. However, the structures are showing age. The Rialto chairs are under maintenance and wrapped in neon plastic chains. The screen is embarrassingly bad: your cellphone has better pixel density and color gamut. And the ventilation is extremely horrific. All throughout the park, air is so poorly ventilated you could dehydrate. It's surprising that everyone's sweat is not making cumulonimbus clouds right above us.

We've been to tropical theme parks before other than E.K., like Universal Studios in Singapore for example. They have humidifiers and jumbo electric fans to ease people walking under the sun. You'll see none of that in Enchanted Kingdom. It's a hell hole wonderland.

You'd hope you'd find some good air conditioning in the shops, or restaurants, or arcades, but you'd be disappointed. The air in any indoor place is not conditioned at all. There's one machine with freon, and a bunch of classroom grade ceiling fans pushing it around the store, or arcade. It's hot everywhere.

We had a great time, among each other's company - all denying the fact that Enchanted Kingdom's lost its charm. We made the best time with what we had, lining for hours under the hot boiling sun. We all had fun riding the rides. We gleefully paid the nominal additional entrance fees for the newest attractions. But...

There ain't no enchantment in Enchanted Kingdom no more.

The place has become so insufferably awful, you might think twice before planning a trip back there.

Keep It Positive

2010-11-04T22:18:00.001+08:00

Appearance is everything. And it's more than just how you dress, or how you put on your make up. It's also what you put out there, whether it's love, or joy, or tweets._{Thanks for the artwork.}
But sometimes people aren't wary of what they put on (or put out), and it makes a negative impression - one way or another.

Not everything in life depends on it. It doesn't particularly guarantee what kind of treatment you'll get from friends or bullies. It does make an impression of you, though, especially in this day and age of internet voyeurism, and short readable snips in status messages and threads found in social media sites we all willingly indulge ourselves in.

What you put out there is what people outside will perceive of you. So keep it positive. Else, before you know it, you're one negative blob killing the buzz of anything brooding. It could be wonderful you know, and you might end up having a good time. So when you get the chance, just go. You might just find something to be positive about.

Movie Review: The Other Guys

2010-11-01T12:33:00.001+08:00

Of course I give out spoilers.

I'm a late movie watcher. And my writing comes late sometimes. What with my busy schedule and lazy weekends, it's a treat (and a miracle) to be able to go out and watch a film. It's been several disappointing or so-so movies coming since my movie review foray, so stumbling upon The Other Guys is a wonderful treat.

In a town where explosive detectives are hailed as Heroes, Will Ferrell and Mark Wahlberg play The Other Guys - detectives working in the back office of NYPD doing paperwork. Will who plays a dweeb who likes to pencil-push his way through life is partnered with Mark who's motto in life is:

I'm a peacock, you have to let me fly!

It's a wonderfully written film and is really funny. Perhaps because I'm an SNL fan and the whole film felt like work from an SNL alumni. It's an action film so it can entertain you as you go along scene after scene. Also, there's an ongoing joke that invites the whole audience in as their chief quotes TLC song titles as he lectures his little police men.

The movie begins with NYPD Heroes falling to their deaths - and this death scene couldn't be funnier. They felt so invincible they thought they could survive jumping 20 stories high. Then a case falls into Will's and Mark's character's laps and they chase after it. The push and pull between an over eager Mark and the wallflower Will gives the audience great chemistry they'd want to continually see 'till the end of the film.

This film is a great movie, and I may even end up buying it as it goes out on DVD. This is something you could recommend your parents to watch, or your co-workers, or your date. And since this review's late, try to check it out if it's still showing in your favorite cinema, or get a copy by other means.

This movie is a like!!!

Heartbreaks

2010-10-31T12:03:00.001+08:00

It's always never a triumph when someone's heart breaks.
I've been witness this year, on more than one occasion, of relationships that fell apart. 2010 is not good for the heart. The stories differ from one another: long distance relationships, falling out of love, unhappiness in the union. It's all very saddening.

It only rings so painful when you've felt it too.

Break ups are hard. And life shattering. And will make you question what it was that made it fail. It will make you doubt yourself - no matter how great you truly are - and it will born you new fears and feelings of incompetencies. My heart goes out to those who are currently tending the wounds of a broken heart.

In life, it's not always apples and rainbows. And I know how devastating break ups can be. Believe me. But life is all about falling down and standing up. Be strong and keep your hearts open. You can rise above this eventually.

It gets better.

Open Letter To The Lady We See Everyday

2010-10-20T21:49:00.001+08:00

Dear Ms. Working Lady,

Everyday, we pass you by, in the street you where you live. We see you waiting, rain or shine, standing in the corner, wearing your business suits Mondays through Fridays, waiting for your ride, which will take you to the office where you work.

We wonder what kind of work you do? Sadly, we may never know. Could it be something important? Something noble? Something fulfilling? Whatever the case, your daily dedication and perfect punctuality has definitely made us fans. We admire your continued diligence, and your relentless devotion trying to make good for yourself - for whatever reasons you may have. In a way, you are a hero in our eyes. And hopefully, to your loved ones, too.

Someday, maybe tomorrow morning, I’ll snap a picture of you so the whole world can see that you’re not just our imagination, but rather, a beaming reality that many others should follow.

Please don’t forget your umbrella on rainy mornings (or sunscreen during sunny days). Because we care for you. Hope to see you tomorrow!

Bizou Bizou,
Chetiboy

Movie Review: Eat, Pray Love

2010-10-18T21:17:00.001+08:00

Of course I give out spoilers.

One uneventful Sunday, we went out and watched (I know it’s overdue) Eat, Pray, Love, a movie based on the personal memoir of author Elizabeth Gilbert, chronicling what happened after her divorce. I didn't know that it was her real life turned into a movie, which makes me want to reconsider if I liked it better as fiction, rather than actual events. I'll tell you later why.

In summary, the movie should have been titled: Divorce. Travel. I-Have-Lots-Of-Money.

If you're going to the movies to escape, this is a great work of fiction - if it were fiction. I would have settled and agreed that this movie is a nice watch, however, it made me pine (maybe even jealous) when I found out it was a memoir - someone's actual life, actual divorce, actual travels.

Who does that really? I got divorced, now I'm going to Italy and make friends there, then India and be spiritual there, then Indonesia where I can flirt with Brazilian expats after they almost run me over while simultaneously photocopying documents for Ketut. Who does that really?

I guess if your Envy doesn't get in the way, you can enjoy this New Yorker's adventure, and watch her spend her cash advance from the book deal we all now know as Eat, Pray, Love. I wonder if she ever wrote a book titled Sell, Movie, Rights? Coming to learn that it was a true story, made the movie lose why I loved it.

Perhaps my review of the movie can be quoted from the film itself.

I don't have to love you to prove that I love myself.

It was a good movie but my love for it is conditional, maybe because it was a lazy Sunday afternoon and we had nothing else to do. What can you expect from a Julia Roberts film? It's light, it's wonderfully written, and the places featured in the film are wonderful to see. But can this really be someone's real life? I guess movies take liberties making stories more magical.

Believing the movie is fiction makes the film better. Perhaps that's why was never marketed as someone's true story. So if I psyche myself up constantly that what I saw was pure imagination, I can go to bed quietly and not scratch my head wondering how much money I'd need to take a year off to Eat, Pray, and Love - all without a job or bills to pay.

Take Them Down By The Bully Horns

2010-10-16T14:19:00.001+08:00

I was bullied when I was a kid, of course. But looking back at it now, it wasn't all so terrible - considering how rough it was for others. But indeed, had my share of bullies in my life. So it's not all apples and rainbows growing up. It was terrible.

Several years before high school, I was turning out to be someone sticking out like a sore thumb. I guess it could be attributed to me getting puberty earlier than everyone else, and growing to be hairier than everyone else, and in an all-boys school, pre-high school is when people are segregated into boys and not-so-boys. Suffice to say, I belonged to a minority that wasn't very much well received.

Young boys are made to think to be a certain way, but those who don't necessarily reach the epitome of what a boy is, and someone disagrees on how you turned out to be and takes matters in their own hands: that's where bullying is born.

During lunch breaks, after eating, my friends and I in school would congregate on a satellite area, near the Music Room. That's where we laugh, and prance about. And it didn't take long for other kids in school to see us there, minding our own business.

It was located in an area with trees - trees that bear fruit, trees whose fruits fall onto the ground. These fallen fruits would serve useful for bullies who don't want to get near us, but want to hate on us - physically. And we would spend our lunch breaks dodging fruits flying towards us, hurled by school bullies. Every day.

We'd come home with stained white collared shirts, or sometimes bruises. One uneventful time, a fruit hit right smack my left eye. It was my first time to experience a black eye. And the shame was magnified 300 fold, since 4th, 5th, and 6th graders always had an assembly after lunch. Everyone laughed at me. And I scurried onto the school clinic.

When I came there and told my story - that a fruit was thrown to my eye that resulted to a bruise - the nurse laughed. Was it so far fetched that they thought someone really just beat me up because I was gay? Or was it just such a stupid thing to be one that there's no excuse not getting bruised?

Bullying is a very tormenting experience. It wasn't the only time it hurt me. Though I lived through it and survived, some people aren't able to, and it's heartbreaking.

Glee Shmlee: My Music Teacher From Hell

2010-10-08T11:32:00.001+08:00

When I was in high school, there was an audition to be part of a glee club of an All Girls School. This little club somewhat had a big reputation, and they were in need of boys. I came from an All Boys School, and both the girls’ and ours were like brothers and sisters in arms. So I went, along with my own classmates, to audition.

It was time for the very rare musical production that comes ever so seldomly, called Celebrate Life. Some Jesus-Christ-Superstar-esque production detailing the birth of Big J. They needed male singers, and where else to look but from our All Boys School?

I auditioned. We got our parts. And we started rehearsals shortly after. Every Saturday, a group of boys would tut around and prance about in an All Girls School, and we’d learn songs and harmonize.

I always thought I couldn’t sing, but there I was, part of a Glee club.

But week after week, I was being noticed by the music teacher. She’d have me re-do notes. Sing a part. Or listen intently on how I would blend - or not blend - with the harmonics.

One day, when she had me re-do a note on my own, I felt choked up and flaked. She took off her glasses, sighed, and said:

Maybe you could be a stage hand, or an actor in the background?

The group of prancing boys I came to rehearsals with, laughed - ugly people riddled with pimples that Mena can’t cure have a sick sense of humor, or are simply: bitches. But I felt like I was kicked in the gut, and it wasn’t funny. I felt paralyzed. Soon enough I eventually felt my legs move, and slinked out of the room trying to be invisible, but I couldn't feel any more like unflushed shit in a white porcelain toilet. I was no longer part of the Glee Club from then on, and it was a day in my life I wouldn't celebrate.

Years later, I had the unfortunate re-encounter with this highly beloved music teacher at some Debutant's Debut of my friends from the All Girls School. And news got to her, in small talk table dinner chit chat that night, that I had accused her of "firing" me.

She sat right in front of me amongst our All Girl friends. And decided to tell me something in front of everyone. She took off her glasses, sighed and said:

I've never kicked anyone off my Glee Club.

I kept quiet out of respect. But what I felt like doing was kick her in the gut, laugh at her face (maybe even spread Mena on it), and dip her head in a white porcelain toilet with unflushed shit.

She was a bitch.

Movie Review: Charlie St. Cloud

2010-10-04T10:00:00.001+08:00

Of course I give spoilers.

Charlie St. Cloud was a book in 2004 written by Ben Sherwood. It must've been a very good book to have been granted a film adaptation (never read it myself, though). However, when books go to film, there are certain things that don't translate well.

Perhaps the movie's good parts were only up to the first good 30 minutes, where Charlie St. Cloud's little family is portrayed as a happy unit of three. And how much he adored his little brother. But when they get into a fatal car accident where his brother dies, he guilts himself up enough to see his brother's ghost, every sun down, to play baseball with him – well, things go from a sweet premise, to just obnoxious.

Five years later, Zac Efron (physically unchanged) and now working as a cemetery grounds keeper, still plays with ghosts. And sees ghosts. And talks with ghosts. Until he finds a date - an old highschool classmate he can't even remember - who he cooks dinner for, in his Grounds Keeper House just a few paces beyond the cemetery he works in. The date turns sexier, as the girl runs around outside, at night, in the dark, in a cemetery … and they both end up fucking each other… in the cemetery. Did I tell you where they did it? IN THE CEMETERY!!!

Great. Nothing sexier than running in the dark, in a cemetery. And making love six feet above dead carcasses, in a cemetery. Oh, did I mention, they did it in a cemetery!? Later on, we find out that the girl… IS A GHOST HERSELF! “I fuck dead people” sixth sense twist!

The setting is around a port, where people sail – a lot. Which I found unrelatable. And I'm sure many people find it unrelatable, too. Plus add the fact that we deal with death in the beginning of the movie, and he sees ghosts, and fell in love with one, too. The climactic part of course is his heroic attempt to save his ghost girlfriend's body (whose half-dead body had washed ashore ~~due to a sailing accident~~ sailing-into-the-storm-INTENTIONALLY accident) to some faraway island, that without his Ghost Whisperer powers, he wouldn't have been able to find himself. Thank God for Super Hero powers!

All I can say is: this is an odd film. Too odd. Did I tell you about the sex scene in a cemetery… IN A CEMETERY?!

If it weren't for Zac Efron's dreamy eyes and sexy bod, we'd have left the cinema and ate french fries instead.

We’d have had more fun.

Actor acting is good. Amazing even. But even the best actors playing a lousy script could render any patron bored.

Roller Coasters

2010-10-02T17:45:00.001+08:00

How do we know where life takes us, when we're not entirely sure where we currently are?

Things are changing at work. Though it's not entirely new news. Normally when people tender their resignations, they're gracious enough to give their four-week notice. So the news arrive but the reality never really dawns on you. The fact that people are actually leaving can only be felt on their last day in the office. And you feel like life spins you around like a roller coaster.

In many ways, you somewhat envy their gradual nonchalance. They let go of their everyday workload bit by bit as the last day looms. They shuffle papers around and fill out forms. They delete things and leave goodbye email messages you'll read and go aaaw? Sigh, and reply back how sad you are to see them go. And when their last day passes and life at work resumes... there's that empty desk, with that empty chair.

Mostly, it's heart breaking. You'd pine over things that went wrong, wonder why life was so hard wonder and why things couldn't be easier. And of course, relate.

For those left behind, do you envy that they're leaving? Or do you feel happy that you're in a stable environment? Do you relish the fact that your feet are planted on the ground? Or do you wish you could spin as well, high above in a roller coaster, having the time of your life?

For the meantime, Same Old Same Old resumes on Monday, minus one.

Finian's Rainbow

2010-09-26T15:41:00.001+08:00

I found a new musical: Finian's Rainbow.

Aside from the fact that I love rainbows (and their website is so beautiful!), the music is so magical and delightful. It's about a man who finds a pot of gold and wants to plant it in the hopes that it will grow into a tree and multiply. But they're chased after by a Leprechaun.

I love this musical revival, starring my new favorite broadway / TV actor, Cheyenne Jackson. I love the colorful music in Finian's Rainbow.

Hurray!

New Wallpaper!

2010-09-25T12:25:00.001+08:00

Yeah I know it's boring. Gray cubes. But this year is all about grays. At least in my terms.

Love Is A Battlefield: Literal Video Verson

2010-09-20T20:48:00.001+08:00

I love it!

Eating Alone

2010-09-20T19:41:00.001+08:00

I don’t entirely love eating out alone. But I don’t necessarily hate it either.

There’s something in the air I can’t resist smelling. So as I sat at my Secret Eating Place when I’m eating without a posse, I wondered if eating alone was something I shouldn't be so ambivalent about.

In life, you can't always count on somebody - anybody - to be there for you. There will be times when you'll end up on your own. And in those times, you should be able to stand by yourself, or at least eat on your own (preferably in a place where you won't be seen dining alone.) Because we won't always be surrounded by people we're fond of. There'll always be times when instead of being the tenured, recognizable figure around, you will be the new guy in a strange place, uneasily eating, or uncomfortably alone.

You don't entirely love it, but you don't necessarily hate it either.

Under The Dome

2010-09-19T15:32:00.001+08:00

This book is wonderfully thick. And I can understand why.

It's a story of not just one person, but a story of a whole town trapped in an invisible dome. The first 200 pages were wonderfully thrilling, and I suppose the 900+ more is just the same. It's my first time to experience a Stephen King novel, and his latest work - Under The Dome - is such a great read. The town is rich and full of wonderfully written characters. And it's never a bore to read. You won’t be able to stop yourself from reading on, and you’ll find yourself continuously curious.

I'm loving this book. But I don't know if this can appeal to all kinds of readers. Let’s just say my taste in books may be different than the average reader. But I would recommend this book to those I know are like me.

Today Is Offline Day

2010-09-18T12:14:00.001+08:00

Can you bear it?

The goal is to be offline - no internet, no cellphone, no electronic hand held thing to keep you away from the real world. I am plugged into the Matrix, so the fact that I'm blogging now to tell you that today is offline day is proof enough I might fail for today's challenge. The fact that you're reading my blog post today may also be proof that you're plugged into the Matrix, and we are all - indeed - slaves of the Machines.

Good thing we're celebrating my nephew's third Birthday. Oh how fast time files. XOXO.

Happy 60th GB, iTunes!

2010-09-18T10:40:00.001+08:00

Every now and then, I celebrate other simple joys - especially things that I personally made happen. On this day, Sept 18, 2010, I am celebrating my iTunes passing the 60GB mark.

No one else comes close, all with tags, album art, et cetera. Let me know if you've beaten me! :)

Sorry Xanadu!

2010-09-15T19:08:00.001+08:00

I heard about Xanadu way too late. I don't have the time, sadly, and with it running just until Sept 19... Well, I'd have to kiss goodbye.

Sorry Xanadu, won't be able to see you :(

Idle-latry

2010-09-15T13:31:00.001+08:00

Noise is normally a manifestation of something going wrong. While silence - from my experience - means business as usual. These past few days, work's never been anything but smooth sailing. Items are delivered on time. There's enough knowledge among my team and myself with the accounts we're working on, and we're always on top of everything, so nothing goes pending and everything new is set as a closed/shut case in a snap. It's been quiet. Idle.

Sometimes I sit and ponder what I can do to make use of my time well - with all the free time I have lately. But I seem to have developed an inexplicable anxiety. Could it be true? I now have a balanced, nothing going out of control kind of life?

I'm not complaining. In fact, I couldn't feel any luckier. It's not my fault we're proficient. And proficiency is normally a good thing, right? But somehow, I feel guilty. No one else seems to be overloaded with work. Everybody is working. But I feel guilty. Why?

Did the early half of the year bring on the storm, and could the latter part be the calm? Did I finally get how it is to balance both my life and career? Can I really be this happy and calm at work? Have all my frustrations been blown by the wind? Where is this guilt from being idle come from?

I've often likened myself as a person with Type A kind of personality. And since we've managed to level ourselves in the plain of proficiency - where nothing becomes urgent, and everyone is fully capable - we normally end up with enough idle time to let us take breaks, and have fun, and relax.

So if I'm idle because I've finished everything early, should I really feel guilty? Or should I regale at the fact and congratulate myself?

The Music And The Mirror

2010-09-15T08:35:00.001+08:00

I felt so inspired for days because of this. I love A Chorus Line.

Z: Cassie? Stay on stage, please.
C: Well, this audition is really interesting isn't it?
Z: Yeah. What are you doing here?
C: What do you think? I need a job.
Z: In the Chorus?
C: Look Zach, I'd love a part of course. But I'll take what I can get.
Z: You're too good for the Chorus, Cassie.
C: Too good? Wow. I did a couple of dance -
Z: You were Featured! You stopped two shows cold. Your career was going fine here in New York.
C: I can't get a job, Zach. God you sound like all my friends, my fans, acting like I'm a star and don't know it. When the truth is, I never even came close and nobody had the guts to tell me... Well, it would be nice to be a star... But I'm not. I'm a dancer.

Give me somebody to dance for.
Give me somebody to show.
Let me wake up in the morning to find
I have somewhere exciting to go...

Z: So you're going through a slow period. It happens to everyone. Something will happen.
C: Oh. That's what I kept telling myself in California. And I kept telling myself that and telling myself that. Well nothing will happen. I can't act.
Z: What?
C: I can't act... And there I am in California supposed to be this actress! Well, didn’t take me long to find out: I can't act. And it didn't take Hollywood very long, either.
Z: You didn't work out there?
C: Oh sure. A rotten part in a so-so film. Part ended up getting cut - thank God. I was a Go-Go Dancer at TV Movie Of The Week. Let's see - oh yes commercials! I almost got to squeeze the role of Toilet Paper but lost out in the finals. Isn't that something? 17 years in the business and I end up flunking Toilet Paper Squeezing. And I was a dancing Band Aid... that was fun. We had an earthquake... And I got a terrific tan... Oh! And surely you must've heard about --
Z: I did hear you going out with some big agent, being a bit wild, running around and carrying on.
C: Well when you're a woman of leisure what else is there to do but get a bit wild and run around? Not to mention getting fat and going crazy. Which is why I came back to New York... which is why I am here today, Zach old dear... little pussycat... I need a job...

To have something I can believe in.
To have someone to be...
Use me...
Choose me...

Z: I just can't see you dancing in the Chorus, Cassie.
C: Why not?
Z: Listen, if you need some money, call my Business Manager --
C: Sure I need money, who doesn't? But I don't need a hand out. I need a job. I need a job, and I don't know any other way to say it. Do you want me to say it again?
Z: No.
C: Fine, then we got that far. Look, I haven't worked in two years - not really. And there's nothing left for me to do so I'm putting myself on the line... Yes, I'm putting myself on your line. I don't wanna wait on tables. And what I really don't want to do is teach other people how to do what I should be doing myself!

God I'm a dancer.
A dancer dances...

Give me somebody to dance with.
Give me a place to fit in.
Help me return to the world of the living
By showing me how to begin.

Play me the music.
Give me the chance to come through.
All I ever needed was the music, and the mirror,
And the chance to dance …
For you…

Give me a job and you instantly get me involved.
If you give me a job,
Then the rest of the crap will get solved.
Put me to work,
You would think that by now I'm allowed.
I'll do you proud.

Throw me a rope to grab on to.
Help me to prove that I'm strong.
Give me the chance to look forward to sayin':
"Hey. listen, they're playing my song."

Play me the music.
Give me the chance to come through.
All I ever needed was the music, and the mirror,
And the chance to dance...

Play me the music,
Play me the music,
Play me the music.
Give me the chance to come through.
All I ever needed was the music, and the mirror,

And the chance
To dance