Thursday, December 30, 2010

Year End

Well the year is almost over. And again, i'm feeling shitty---- the exact same feeling that i get every time the year ends. While everyone else is in a festive mood, i pretend to be one with them in their festivities, but deep inside I'm bitter. Deep inside I'm sulking. Deep inside, I couldn't possibly care any less.

I wonder if there would ever come a time when i wouldn't feel this way on new year's eve. As the year ends, I tend to reflect on the things I've done during the past year, and every time all i see are the glaring mistakes. I spend the day enveloped in remorse and regret, drowning in self pity, thinking about the things that I should have done instead. And every goddamned year all mistakes for the previous years that i have completely buried beneath my subconscious would tend to resurface yet again. And when they accumulate as they always do, i tend to feel even more miserable. Mistakes from previous years pile up on one another as the year ends, making me feel more miserable compared to previous years.

Career wise, I'm still headed nowhere. And again I've been thinking what could've been if I did not resign from the job I had back in 2007. I've rationalized again and again, and I've realized that taking all things into consideration it was for the best, but again it has reared its ugly head. Now I begin to question my decision AGAIN. My batchmates are almost done with residency, and here I am, still at the starting line. Here i am, still lost and without direction. If I had at least done something of worth this year, I wouldn't even be thinking about that again. But since I still haven't done anything, since I haven't made any progress, I just couldn't help it. I've already realized again and again that even if it was wrong there's nothing more i can do about it, and there's nothing more to do than to just simply move on. And I have moved on---- for a while. With all the things that have happened this past year--- or should i rather say things that have not happened... i just find it hard not to look back. I find it hard not to hit myself in the head again for making foolish and haphazard decisions.

And so I begin to rationalize. Again. If there's anything good that came out from that decision, it was the chance to spend more time with my grandmother. If i was still doing my residency I wouldn't have spent as much time with her during the past few years. In fact, i would have barely seen her at all. And I wouldn't have been there to hold her hand, I wouldn't have been with her as she spoke her last words, as she breathed her last breath. And no one would have taken her to the hospital that time since everyone else in the family is busy with work and other stuff--- stuff that don't even matter in the long run. I had the opportunity to take care of her. That's the only good thing that came out of that decision. If I had to rationalize and convince myself yet again that the decision I made that time was the right one if I looked at the big picture... then I guess it was. If only this feeling of self pity would disappear as I begin to rationalize, maybe I can fool myself that it was. But as long as this feeling remains, there is still doubt. This feeling would linger. As long as I haven't done anything of worth, as long as I remain on a standstill, this feeling would resurface no matter how many times I would have buried it.

I'm getting tired of playing the same old game. I'm tired of going through the same old pointless routine. I'm tired of getting nowhere. 2010 is definitely the shittiest and most miserable year of my life and I'm glad it's almost over. It's a year of loss, heartaches, failures, and disappointments--- not only for myself, but also for all the people in my close proximity. I could try to be optimistic like everyone else and welcome the new year with a smile, but i can't force myself to do that. It entails too much effort for a tired soul. I could hope that the new year would be better for me, but that would only be wishful thinking on my part. Because looking back, every year seems to be just a shitty as the previous one. And with my dumb luck, the coming year could be even worse. There's no point starting over because in my life, I keep on making the same mistakes and same stupid decisions again and again. In the calendar of my life, the next year is always as shitty or even shittier than the last. There's just nothing there to look forward to.

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

No Reason

On my way home this evening, i passed by a church and there were several people outside giving away flyers. They were wishing everyone happy holidays. And they were inviting everyone to a seminar of sorts. I threw the flyer away when i passed by a garbage can. But a part of the slogan stayed in my head. Three simple words.

Are you happy?

Honestly, I'm not. And while i was on the subway, i tried to think of those times in my life wherein i felt genuinely happy. The type of happiness that makes one feel warm inside, not the type of surreal and artificial happiness that alcohol brings. I tried to think of those times wherein I could say that I really felt happy... and I couldn't think of any. And now that I'm back at the apartment, i still can't think of much.

When I was given my first car, I guess I was happy then. I could go places. I could do things that i could never do before. And it gave me a certain amount of freedom. it was the shallow type of happiness that material things give you, but i was happy nevertheless.

When i first learned how to surf. And the many instances after that. The feeling you get as you ride the waves is indescribable. If I have to give it a word, it's nothing short of exhilarating. You wouldn't mind swimming back in again and again even when your shoulders become sore from all the paddling. It's temporary, and it's also shallow... but it's still happiness nevertheless.

When I first learned how to play the guitar. Even when all the songs that I knew how to play are those songs in the tutorial, i felt as if I've made some great accomplishment. It's something that I wanted to learn for so many years, and to finally learn how to play gave me a great sense of fulfillment--- and that made me happy.

When I saw one of my favorite bands perform live for the very first time--- i felt that I was in heaven. For years I've just listened to them on the radio, on my CD and MP3 players... and on that day, there they were, merely a few feet in front of me. To watch them perform with such gusto was surreal, and to share that experience with a few thousand others who share the same interest with you stimulated my senses in so many ways. That level of happiness was indescribable to me because that feeling wasn't familiar. It was such a great feeling, yet it felt so out of place.

Those times when I gave a few bucks to those beggars on the streets, and when they respond with such huge and genuine smiles, with wide eyed awe as if you've given them a small fortune even when what you've given them won't even last for a day. When they say thank you with all of their hearts, and you can clearly see how grateful they are, and you would be grateful yourself because you are so much better off--- during those times i felt all warm inside. i felt happy. Some sort of acknowledgment that I have made a difference in their lives, no matter how small and insignificant--- that makes me happy. Too bad only a few of them respond that way.

When I've helped several patients get well and they thank me sincerely and genuinely... even if they do not give me anything material in return, their gratitude made me feel happy. Even if their cases proved to be difficult, even when treating them involved so much work, all those hardships disappear in an instant when you see that you have helped them get well and they express their gratitude in return. Too bad only a few patients were that way. I'm aware that simply knowing that you have helped should be enough, but when people make you feel appreciated makes that much of a difference. Most say thanks in a very mechanical manner, as if they were required to do it, or as if they were only doing it out of habit. You could feel their lack of sincerity. Some are indifferent, some wouldn't say thanks at all. And there are a few who act as if you owe them a favor for allowing themselves to be treated by you, and some shout out expletives in return. Such patients amplify all your frustrations, and they make you wonder why you even chose to be a doctor in the first place.

When the plane landed in Seattle about a year ago. I felt genuinely happy. That was the first time that I travelled alone, and I felt as if i was about to undertake a huge adventure. And I had a great outlook in life then. There was so much potential. I was about to make my dreams a reality. Back then, it all seemed possible. Back then, it seemed that all was within arms reach. So early in the game i was a fool to believe in the ideal. I was ignorant, i was foolish, but i was happy.

Two months before my grandma passed away, i remember that one instance when we were talking in her room. We were smiling, we were laughing, talking about random stuff, talking about nothing... I was happy then... at least for a few minutes. Because after a while I wondered why we didn't do that often... just sitting in front of the TV and talking. I tried to think of the last time i've had a meaningful conversation with her, and I realized I had none. All those years, though I was always in close proximity, though I talked to her everyday... those conversations were all shallow and perfunctory. When it came to meaningful conversation, the type of conversation that would get to you, the type of conversation that affects your whole being, the type of conversation that you'd remember for a long time and cherish for an entire lifetime... i realized that we had none. Amidst the happiness that i was feeling that time, i realized something very depressing.

Happiness is essential to all human beings. We need happiness to continue living because it takes our minds off the negative, it distracts us from all the pain. When happiness evades us, we see all the darkness underneath, we see the pain of reality, we lose our shield from all the misery. Happiness gives us reason to live until the next day, it makes us look forward to tomorrow, it gives us the inspiration and strength to keep fighting. Happiness fools us into believing that there's still so much to live for even when there is none, it keeps us from giving up and letting go.

But when all happiness is gone, when nothing can mask the reality anymore--- what happens to the man who discovers that there's nothing there to live for?

I know the answer to that question. I've known the answer for a long time now. I just choose not to say it out loud.... not yet, anyway. But I will when all is certain and final. I will, when there's no more turning back. There are things that are better left in silence when there are still lingering doubts... but when all doubts are gone, i will have to decide. Things will fall into place in due time.

For now, I'm just waiting for a sign.

Friday, December 17, 2010

Fool's Journey










The snow falls slowly on this cold December night.
I have traveled so far, still there's no end in sight.
I’ve done so many wrongs, I tried to make things right.
Yet I still live in darkness, in my life there is no light.

Back then when all hope seemed to be lost
This seemed like the right path to take.
For years I ignored the glaring clues
That this path that I chose was another mistake.

My body is bruised, beaten and weary.
My soul can no longer take all of the agony.
If you thought that I was more, if you depended on me
All this time I have failed you, I am gravely sorry.

All these years I have been going through a fool’s journey.
It’s nothing but a distraction for those wallowing in misery.
It’s a trick life plays to those who believe in new beginnings.
But for people like us, there are no happy endings.

Far from where I began, still no end in sight
I can choose to move on, but I’m too tired to fight.
I can choose to stay here, and just let things be.
I can choose to surrender, and then I would be free.

Soon all will just be a bitter memory.
Life is never kind, it only prolongs the agony.
I have already answered the question of how.
There’s no use moving forward. My journey ends now.

12/17/10

Thursday, December 16, 2010

Hidden









I put on a smile but my eyes still betray
the emotions that I carry every single day.
The world has no color, only different shades of grey
Life may have direction, but I could never find the way.

My eyes are windows to a damaged soul
It has been torn apart, though it never was whole.
I am careful not to show any hint of despair
We are all tortured souls, so why should anyone care.

I wander through the shores of anonymity
Amidst all of the hopelessness and uncertainty.
They say that they care, yet true motives have shown.
Amidst all these pretensions, I’m better off alone.

Why you choose to stick around, I never could tell
You keep trying to get me out of this emotional shell.
I built all these walls so that no one could see
Breaking them down would only destroy me.

Often times I wish you would just let me be.
Leave me here to dwell on my own misery
But you’re one persistent fool, that I can clearly see.
If you search a little longer, you might eventually find me.

12/16/10

Wednesday, December 15, 2010

Surrender












How does it feel to be wanted?
When your actions are praised and not taken for granted.
How does it feel to be loved?
When you’re not left alone, when you’re not disregarded.

How does it feel to have someone by your side?
Whom you can show your true self and no longer hide.
When you have someone near to share all of the pain,
When you keep someone close, someone to help keep you sane.

How does it feel to have someone who can understand?
When you choose to turn away she'll keep holding your hand.
Someone who’ll never give up until the day you are free.
Someone who’ll try anything just to end your misery.

How does it feel to have done something of worth?
When you have a sense of accomplishment as you roam through this earth.
I am a failure, no matter which way I choose to go
That sense of fulfillment is something that I’ll never ever know.

To be touched by a person who cares as much as you do,
Who’d disregard all other things and do anything for you.
To make someone proud, to live until life finally makes sense...
Just a few of the many things I'll never get to experience.

12/15/10

Tuesday, December 14, 2010

It's in the News

I don't like being idle. because the first thing I do when I'm idle is surf the net. And then i eventually end up in web sites that i don't usually frequent. Including sites that keep me up to date on the things that are happening back home. And you know how I feel about the things that happen back home. Sure, a few can bring a smile to my face... but a lot of things just make me sad. A lot of things make me feel ashamed and disappointed. And a lot of things can totally piss me off.

Just browsing through these so called legitimate and professional websites is enough to make one lose his temper. How can you have much respect for these news organizations when they often resort to tabloid journalism. They prefer to sensationalize everything, even the most insignificant things just to gain more attention. They prefer to add melodrama to everything, because that would tug the hearts of most people, and therefore increasing patronage. They have the gall to proclaim that as news organizations, they have no bias--- yet the very first sentence of every article screams bias. Instead of simply telling the news, they insert their own opinions. Some articles even begin with the opinion of the author, instead of presenting the facts first. A lot of these journalists insert adjectives, like how one party is rich while the other is poor, or how one party has a lot of supporters while the other has none, effectively imposing on their target audiences their own bias. Several news reports would focus on sob stories of one party, using all available tools just to elicit more emotion and sympathy from their readers, some extending to several pages without getting the side of the other party. And if they did, the articles about the party that they do not favor would be restricted to several paragraphs, or littered with words that would put them in a negative light. They aim to condition the minds of their readers to feel the same way they do, to empathize with the same people that they feel sympathy for. Some don't even lay out the whole truth, just bits and pieces of it. Then they embellish the article with their own opinions--- just enough to attract attention, yet at times they want it to be downright scandalous. It's the same with the news that they broadcast on TV. It's all about sensationalism so that they can get more attention, so that they can get higher ratings. Who cares if such actions could muddle police work, who cares if they could interfere with the judicial system, who cares if their actions could end up hurting a lot of people? These people claim that it's their duty to tell the news, that they're doing it as service for the people. What a load of bullshit. When things go wrong, they resort to pointing fingers, and they cannot be blamed because they were doing their duty. They act as if they are being oppressed, as if they were victims as well. Boo fuckin' hoo. Forgive me if I have no sympathy for these so called journalists. If they want intelligent people to believe in the things that they are saying, if they want us to believe that it's not all about the money to them, then they better start doing their jobs properly. Enough of sensationalism, bias, and melodrama. They belong in scripted shows on TV, not on the evening news. Opinions and bias should be placed on the opinion pages of newspapers, not on the front page. How can one have much respect for the media when they assume that people want sensationalism and melodrama? And even if the people do, how can one respect an institution that even patronizes and encourages such behavior instead of being a tool for change? How can one have much respect for these institutions when most of their actions reflect the selfish motives beneath that cloak of social service? They have the capability to promote change, they have the capacity to exert great influence, yet they do not choose to use that power properly. Because in the end, it's all about ratings, it's all about money. Anything that can jeopardize their place in the ratings game should not even be attempted. And how can one respect a nation's people when they allow themselves to be used by the media and certain powerful individuals, when they allow their minds to be conditioned in certain ways? How can you have faith in a nation when the majority of its population clamor for brainless, sensationalized and tainted journalism instead of demanding that they get the facts straight without all the embellishment--- without all the added stuffing that only serve to muddle everything? How can one have faith in his people when they let other people dictate beliefs on them, even when they are capable of independent and unbiased thinking? How can one still respect a nation when majority of its population fail to use their gift of logical reasoning because that always let emotions get in the way?

Oh, that's right. I've lost faith and respect for these people a long time ago. And so far, nothing that has happened during the past few months can restore my faith in them again.

...

So why do i still fuckin' care?

Wednesday, December 01, 2010

The Sea of Gullibility

I'm having one of those moods wherein the simplest things completely piss me off. Now it's status updates and profile pictures on Facebook.

I've been seeing such useless propaganda for years now. It all started with the "causes" application. Sure it was a novel idea. But after joining one cause, what happens then? most of us just forget about it. As if clicking on the join tab would be enough. You think we've done our part because once we've joined one cause we promote awareness since that latest activity would be posted on our news feed? Let's get real. If we did not donate any money to a legitimate organization, if we did not invite more friends and talk to them intimately one by one about our cause and why they should also believe in it, if we did not do everything in our power to convince them if they do not share our beliefs, if we did not go out into the world to do something more for our cause--- we didn't do anything at all, besides clicking on the join button.

For the past year or so, things took a different turn. People started posted messages on their status updates, people posted certain pictures and they ask all their friends to do the same, because it's all for a worthy cause. A lot of them are shams, preying on people's inherent gullibility or stupidity, taking advantage of people who are prone to cease all critical brain functions whenever they are enveloped in their own little online world. A lot are completely fabricated by people who have a little too much time on their hands, and they just want to see how far their clever propaganda can go. A lot are these causes are silly, a lot are done just for fun, and people join such activities simply because they're fun and everyone else is doing it. But there are some causes that are legitimate. And some of these propaganda are done for worthy causes, and not just to expose the stupidity and gullibility of most people. But really, what do we get from them? When everyone would post such status updates, does this exercise really prevent violence against women and children? Do they really serve to eradicate racism and discrimination? Do such actions help us prevent certain illnesses and eradicate diseases? Do they give justice to victims of heinous crimes, do they help eradicate poverty, hunger, and corruption? By participating in such campaigns, can we really promote world peace? Do we really think that such simple gestures can make our world a better place to live in? One of the most silly campaigns was to post your bra color to raise breast cancer awareness. Now, did it really make most people aware of breast cancer? More than half of the people i know were scratching their heads when these women started posting colors on their status updates. It would have been more effective if these women posted pictures of their breasts instead. At first I was laughing when friends of mine were posting the color of their bras thinking they would make a difference, but when most of my women friends started taking part in such a ridiculous and pointless exercise, it just became so disheartening.

For one thing, it's depressing to see how your friends can be manipulated so easily. But it's even more depressing when your friends do not allow themselves to be manipulated, when they decide to join such campaigns after deep thought, yet they don't go beyond posting a single picture or a status update. They sincerely believe that by simply participating, they can really make a difference, no matter how small that difference is. What happens after that? Most people stop there, without even thinking if they can do more. Or they just wait until the next campaign would come along, and then they would join the bandwagon again in order to appear cool and trendy. Whatever happened to being proactive? I remember when people actually went out of their own little worlds and into the real world, when they actually did something concrete and productive, when they actually reached out to someone, when their actions would actually amount to something. Now all we do is click on buttons, and then we relish the thought that we've already done our part, no matter how little it is. It would be great if we have actually done a little. But when we don't follow up those status updates with something else, we have actually done nothing. If we could only exert more effort to get off our lazy asses, we could surely do something to help these worthy causes. It doesn't end with a single status update or a click of a button. It should only start from there.

I am so sick and tired of all this slacktivism. Everyone else should feel the same way too.

Thursday, November 25, 2010

To Be Thankful

We've always celebrated Thanksgiving. And from where I'm from, people would always give me a weird look whenever I told them that. I'd be weirded out too if someone told me they celebrated Thanksgiving in a place where no one else did. We weren't living in the USA after all, and we weren't expats either. It's just one of the many quirks of my grandparents... one of their many quirks that i've grown to love. People would ask me why we celebrated Thanksgiving, and I couldn't give them a straight answer. Truth be told, I couldn't even give a straight answer to this day. My grandparents just wanted to celebrate the occasion. They probably just have a lot to be thankful for. And I looked forward to that single day every year wherein we would have a Turkey dinner. It felt a lot like Christmas, only more simple and intimate, free from all that sentimental fluff. It was just us having dinner, and no one else. Thanksgiving was one of those rare occasions that i've felt that we were one family... that I was a part of a family. It was a yearly tradition... until last year. I was far from home this time last year, and when I asked my grandparents why they didn't celebrate Thanksgiving, they told me it was because our family wasn't complete. I found that surprising. That wasn't the first Thanksgiving that I've missed. I had to work at the hospital two years prior to that and still they had a Turkey dinner without me. They told me it was different because I was far from home. And when I'm thousands of miles away, it just wouldn't be the same. That still didn't sound logical to me... I was actually a bit irritated as they were telling me that... yet I agreed. There's no use arguing with my grandparents when they were in one of their cloyingly sentimental moods. I joined some other family for Thanksgiving, and that felt surreal. Unlike Christmas wherein i've grown tired of all the familiarity, the familiarity of Thanksgiving was something i could never grow tired of. And without that familiarity, it just wasn't the same.

I guess you could say that I have a lot to be thankful for in my life. But when it comes to the events that have transpired this year, I couldn't think of anything that I should be thankful for. Almost eleven months in, the year 2010 has brought me nothing but anger and sadness... disappointment and despair. Both of my grandparents are gone now. Thanksgiving would never be the same without them. Looking back only brings me grief, and it would be easier if there's something to look forward to... but the future only seems as bleak. All those rejection letters only serve to bring me down... as if I need further confirmation that I've grown to be such a failure. Thanksgiving has lost its essence for me. Now, it's just turkey dinner, devoid of all its deeper meaning. The people who have introduced me to this tradition are gone now, and there's no use of continuing this annual tradition when i do not share the same thoughts and feelings as theirs. The road that they have travelled is a different one, and it's not as bleak as mine. As I look ahead from where I am standing now, there's absolutely nothing to be thankful for. The future brings me as much grief as the past, and seems even more bleak as the present. My life is still the mess that it has been for the past couple of years. This isn't something that I should be thankful for.

Wednesday, November 03, 2010

One Shot

I've just made a very huge gamble, and the stakes are so high. If I've made the wrong decision, I would be left with nothing. There is no second chance. I will lose EVERYTHING.

I finally bought a plane ticket. I've been flip flopping for weeks. It was all systems go a few months back. But things were so much different back then. Back then, we had no problems with money. Back then, all I needed to worry about was to pass all the exams and submit all the required documents before the deadline. It's funny. Just when I have finished all the exams and all I need to do is to apply for residency training, this comes up. To others, I may be very close to the finish line, but to me, I've never felt so far from it.

I was thinking about giving everything up. Application for residency training is a gamble in itself. There's a hug chance that you won't get accepted in any training program. Others would just shrug it off and just try again next year. But I just can't afford to do that---figuratively and literally. I would most probably spend every cent that I have. It won't really matter if I manage to get a job. I'd be able to get back every penny that I would have spent in a matter of months. And I'd be away from all the pain that this place has been continuously causing me. But if I don't get a job... I will be left with nothing. I won't get a second chance. If I chose to let go of the plans that I have made, I would still have a fair amount of money. I could use that money for other things. Things that are tangible. Things that are necessary. I could get a job here even if I can't stand this place. Even if this place is slowly chipping away whatever's left of my sanity. I would most probably be miserable, but not as miserable as i would be if I am stuck here and broke at the same time. Nothing could be worse than that. Not even hell.

I paid for my plane ticket using the money in the joint account that my grandma shared with me. It was barely enough. Money was siphoned off that account at such a rapid rate these past few months that there wasn't much left. I didn't want to withdraw any more money from that account. It's one of the few tangible things that I have left of my grandmother, and I wanted it to last for as long as possible. It represented all the hard work that she had done all those years, and I didn't want to let go of it just like that. But I don't have much choice now, do I? The next day my father asked me to write him a check again, this time for insurance. I told him there was no more money left. Of course I lied. There were still a few thousands left, but whatever's left isn't even half of the amount that he's asking for. And i didn't want to give him all that was left. i wanted to keep the account open for a little more time. He has already taken a lot, and i think it was about time that I said enough. Let him find the means to make ends meet. He's been digging that grave for himself his whole life, let him figure out a way to crawl out of it, instead of bringing us all down with him.

So now all i need to do is wait. This is possibly the biggest gamble that I have made in my life. If things turn out right, I'd get everything that I wanted. I can finally go away. I can finally be free. On the other hand, there's a huge possibility that I could also lose everything. But I would never know unless I tried, right? I still have this one chance, and although my common sense gives me enough reason to be apprehensive, I still have to give it a shot. There's a very huge risk, but there's also a huge chance that I can make it. I might as well grab the opportunity because I may never get an opportunity like this again. I wouldn't want to be stuck in this miserable place, doing some miserable job, wondering what could have been. I have thrown all caution to the wind, and now I'm just hoping for the best. My life has been one hell of a mess these past few years. I'm keeping my fingers crossed, and I hope that this time, things would turn out just the way I've planned. I've been from one torrential storm after another. Instead of trying to bring me down, it's about time that life finally gave me a break.

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

In Melancholia.


I have to block out thoughts of you, so I don't lose my head.
They crawl in like a cockroach leaving babies in my bed.
Dropping little reels of tape to remind me that I'm alone.
Playing movies in my head that make a porno feel like home.


There's a burning in my pride, a nervous bleeding in my brain.
An ounce of peace is all I want for you, Will you never call again?
And will you never say that you loved me just to put it in my face.
And will you never try to reach me, it is I that wanted space.

I'm sober now for 3 whole months, it's one accomplishment that you helped me with.
The one thing that always tore us apart is the one thing I won't touch again.
In a sick way I want to thank you
for holding my head up late at night.
While I was busy waging wars on myself,
you were trying to stop the fight.


You never doubted my warped opinions on things like suicidal hate.
You made me compliment myself
when it was way too hard to take.
So I'll drive so fucking far away that I'll never cross your mind.
And do whatever it takes in your heart to leave me behind.


And with a sad heart I say bye to you and wave
Kicking shadows on the street for every mistake that I have made.
And like a baby boy I never was a man,
Until I saw your blue eyes cry and I held your face in my hand.
And then I fell down yelling Make it go away!
Just make her smile come back and shine just like it used to be.
And then she whispered "How can you do this to me?"


Hate me today.
Hate me tomorrow.
Hate me for all the things
i didn't do for you.



Hate me in ways, in ways hard to swallow.
Hate me so you can finally
see what's good for you.

Monday, October 18, 2010

One After The Other

They say that when it rains, it pours. In my case, especially this year... it has been one torrential storm after another.

Talk about rude awakenings. Last weekend, it has been one drinking spree after another. Catching up with old friends while downing down bottle after bottle of alcohol. In the land of my birth, it seems that I am only capable of being happy when I'm not sober. Last weekend, it seemed that all my problems have been blown away, albeit temporarily. And for a few fleeting moments, I was glad.

And then came yesterday. For some weird reason, my sister chose to take my car on her way to work, and she asked that new family driver to drive her there. She could have taken the family car, she could have asked my dad to drive her to work like she usually does, but nooooooo... she had to take mine. Without my permission. Then i received a call from her yesterday morning. She told me that they got into a driving accident, and my car was wrecked. That stupid driver failed to hit the brakes on time. In broad daylight. In an intersection. In a traffic jam. They weren't going fast, and yet he managed to wreck the car. And to add insult to injury, he did some stupid reflex action. Instead of just stopping, he immediately shifted the gear in reverse and he hit the car behind him as well. That's so much worse than stupidity, I can't even think of a proper word for it.

Ever since my grandmother passed away, i have become extra careful when driving. I was really taking care of that car. No more speeding. No more drunk driving. I was mindful of traffic rules. For one thing, there's no way that we can afford to buy another car in case I manage to totally wreck my car again. Like the way I did to the one before. And the one before that. Add the fact that I was aware that we were not able to renew the insurance. We had a lot of things on our minds last May and paying for insurance was the last thing we needed to worry about. And as I expected, being the responsible person that he is, my dad still wasn't able to renew it upon my return. But mostly... I was taking good care of it because it was an expensive gift that my grandmother gave me. It's one of the last few concrete things about her that I can hold on to.

We already have a lot of expenses, and because of my dad's penchant for spending every cent that he gets as soon as he gets a hold of them, I really don't know where we are going to get the money for repairs. it was that stupid driver's fault so we have to pay for the damage that he made to the two other cars as well. And those two other cars were even more damaged than my car. It's a shame that he quit his job immediately after filing the police report. I would have loved to see him for one last time so that I could seriously damage his face. I would have felt such immense pleasure if I could have wrecked his face the way he wrecked by car.

I really can't understand why my dad has zero savings. He's getting the same amount of money that our tenants used to pay my grandmother. My grandma always manages to save more than half of that, yet he can't seem to save any. I know he has to pay for the estate tax plus a whole lot of other expenses, but I have this feeling that he's not using the money to pay for those expenses. How else could you explain the fact that he keeps on borrowing money from me? and why does he keep asking me to write checks from him, even though he knows that the joint account that my grandmother used to share with me is almost depleted? And he can't even pay our bills on time, we have been receiving one disconnection notice after another! I really don't know where all that money is going, and when we ask him, he just can't give any definite answer. I was worried that if an emergency happened... if one of us got into an accident, if one of us got sick, or if, god forbid one of us died... we have no way to pay for such emergency expenses. And true enough, something unexpected happened, and he's at a loss on how to pay for it all.

Somehow, he found out that my grandma left money for me before she passed away. It was meant to fund my upcoming trip. The only people who knew about this are my mom, my sister, and our house helper. And none of them are admitting that they told him, whether intentionally or unintentionally. One of them is lying and that really pisses me off. They know about how my dad deals with money. I trusted these three people and just like that, they broke my trust. I feel incredibly pissed and disappointed. I can't help but feel betrayed. There's absolutely no one in this family that I can trust now. I should be thankful I guess. That just makes it easier to leave everyone behind.

Again I told my dad that I don't have money. He told me he knows for a fact that I had money with me. He called me selfish. He called me a liar. He told me that he couldn't understand why I don't want to lend him money when he will be able to pay for it immediately. Really?! with what?! with the huge fortune that is about to come his way, any minute now? the one that he has been blabbing about for years? Jesus Christ. If he can't understand me, well I can't understand him either! I am a realist. Unlike him, I don't live in a dream world. I know that as of now, I have barely enough money with me. If I lend him as much as he's asking now, I definitely won't be able to leave. I'll be stuck here. With him. With them. My siblings have jobs, why doesn't he ask them to lend him money instead? Oh, that's right. Because they don't want to lend him money either. Then don't want to have anything to do with him either. But they have a steady income, he should direct his words at them instead. Fine, I'm selfish, but he should call them selfish as well. I'm selfish because I have to be. I'm the only one looking out for myself. There's no one left here to help me reach my dreams but me. If I choose to become selfless, I might as well let go of my dreams as well. A few months from now, there will be no turning back. I can keep on driving a wrecked car for a few more months. It's still functional anyway, who cares about that huge dent in the front and in the back. As long as it keeps on running, I don't care. After that, they can do whatever they want with it. I already have a lot of memories of my grandma that I can hold on to that would last for my entire lifetime. A few months from now, they can do what they want with their lives, I would let them handle their own problems, let them get out of the mess that they have created themselves. There's no turning back, and I don't even have to look back. A few months from now, I could stop caring. Because a few months from now, there would only be me.

Monday, October 04, 2010

In All Reverie

I dreamt about her the other night.

That was the first time I dreamed about her after she passed away. I was drunk when I went home. I went directly to her bedroom, turned on the airconditioning, and then lied down on her bed, face down. I was awake for a few more minutes, talking out loud like i always do when I am intoxicated... and then all the alcohol in my bloodstream finally took effect. For the first time in weeks, I was asleep before daylight. And the mere thought of it was comforting. No idle thoughts before going to bed, no tossing and turning... for the first time in months, I immediately slept. no worries, no distractions. I just slept. And when i dreamt, i thought everything was real. The life that I was living for the past few months was the dream, and that the world that my subconscious had created was reality. In my dream, she was inside the very same room where i was sleeping. it was probably late in the afternoon, when the sun's rays fills her room with a unique afterglow. It was nothing short of surreal. she was seated at the edge of her bed, in that corner where her photo albums are presently piled up on top of each other. But it seemed like a different bedroom. everything had that washed out look of old photographs--- everything was faded, yet everything seemed so much better because they remind us of happier times. She asked me to sit beside her, and I obliged. She held my hand, our fingers intertwined, and she was saying so many things, none of which i could presently remember. But I can remember that she was smiling all the time. There was an instance that she was laughing. And somehow, that made everything feel all right. Though i can't understand the things that she has been saying, the fact that she seemed happy made me feel happy. There's no trace of anger in her face, no trace of disappointment or loneliness. All that I could see was her smile, and that smile was enough to brighten everything in my world. She was happy after all, and that was enough to make me feel happy. And it didn't feel like a dream at all.

I woke up late in the afternoon. And eerily, the room looked exactly the way it was in my dream. And initially, i thought I was still dreaming. I thought she just went out for a while, maybe she was walking around the house or cooking dinner for us... or maybe visiting a few neighbors, like the way she always did during all those boring afternoons a few years ago when she still had the strength to walk on her own. Any moment now, she's going to come back. Any moment now she's going to walk inside the room, and she's going to chide me for sleeping all day, wasting another perfect day. For a few more minutes, everything seemed all right. I was waiting for her to barge in. But when I saw the photo albums piled on that corner of the bed... when I saw that her dresser was already empty... I immediately awoke to reality. For one fleeting moment, i was unusually happy. Everything seemed perfectly all right with the world... and just like that, that great feeling was gone in an instant. it's all gone.

Just like her.

Now as i patiently wait for these tablets of Valium to take effect, I am hoping to experience that feeling once again. These past few months have been nothing but a mess. It would be a welcome reprieve to feel happiness once again, however fleeting it may be. I might see her in my dreams again. I may be able to talk to her again... see her smile... hold her hand... A few more doses of Valium may do the trick. maybe a whole lot more. Once I've reached that tipping point, everything will be all right once again. i will be happy. I will be at peace.

At least in my very own fabricated little world.

Sunday, October 03, 2010

Dear God.


wish i could still believe.



Dear God, Performed by Avenged Sevenfold. 2008 Warner Bros. Records.

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

The Lifelong Stupor

Four years ago, I decided to create this blog so that I could put my feelings into words. I had hoped to experience some form of catharsis every time i create an entry, and usually that's what happens. It works most of the time. Yet sometimes, I just forego everything and choose to keep it all inside. Like when the emotions that I have been feeling are caused by nothing but petty annoyances. Or when the thing that upsets me is something that I experience again and again, that putting those feelings into words every time would only make me sound redundant. If I created a blog entry every time my father upsets me, I’d have close to a thousand entries by now… and that’s a pretty conservative estimate. This blog is already more than four years old. If I wrote about him every time he upsets me, like the way i did a few years ago, I’d probably have more than a thousand entries. One for every day that has passed for the past four years. That's how much he upsets me. That's how often my dad manages to piss me off.

Don’t get me wrong. I know that he loves us. Like most parents, i know that he would do just about anything for his kids. I can recognize the fact that he’s trying to reach out. I can see that he’s trying to make up for all those years that he never reached out. But all his efforts only seem useless, because it’s all a little too late. I never felt close to him as I was growing up, and no amount of effort on his part could make me feel closer to him now. I also recognize his sincerity. All those years, I could see that he really strives hard to provide for us, but he just kept on doing the wrong things... again and again and again. Thus all his efforts to be a good father only seem worthless.

For one thing,
he keeps on chasing rainbows.

For as long as I can remember, he keeps on saying the same things. He’s about to get loads of cash. A huge fortune is gonna come his way. All my life, he keeps on saying the same things. I know I should be used to all that by now, but the fact that he keeps on saying the same things for almost 30 god damned years makes it even more unsettling. He’s devoted his entire life to these certain people, with the promise of a huge payback anytime soon. But the thing is, that payback never came. Days have turned into weeks and into years, years have turned into decades, and there’s still no payback in sight. But to him, that payback is already around the corner… the same place that it was for the past couple of years.

He keeps living in a dream world.

And that really pisses me off. Sometimes I wonder if I should hit him hard in the face in order for him to wake up to reality. But with the level of stupor that he’s in, I doubt if that could even be enough. I doubt if anything could even be enough. Nothing could awake a man who's in such deep slumber. He’s an intelligent man, and I just can’t figure out why he’s so entrenched in such stupidity. Before I left last year he told me I didn’t have to look for work in another country. A huge fortune was already coming, and he could build a hospital for me if I wanted him to. I didn’t even look at him as we’re driving to the airport. I couldn’t even acknowledge him. i couldn't even give him that for it might give him a little bit of satisfaction. It might give him the impression that I believed him, that i believed
in him. When he was taking me to the airport again last June, he kept saying the same things again. The exact same things. Jesus fuckin’ Christ. And he was deeply entrenched in his dream world that he didn’t even notice that I wasn’t listening. That I didn’t even care. He fails to see that I want to live my own life, and I had no desire to be a part of his life, whether it’s real or imaginary. He never noticed that we have all grown tired.

of his fantasies.

of his preposterous ambitions.

and the fact that he doesn’t know how to set his priorities.

Amidst all the grief that we were feeling when my grandmother passed away, we have managed to make room for another set of emotions. Those emotions were fueled by our hatred towards him. Before my grandpa died, he was given a huge sum of money to fund the mausoleum for my grandparents. When our grandpa died, his coffin was placed within a pile of hollow blocks, but he promised that the mausoleum would be finished in a month. During that time, he ran for a local government position. And as we expected, he lost terribly. In the interim, my grandma wanted to see the mausoleum for herself, because my dad kept saying it was finished, and that it looked beautiful. It looked elegant. But he always told her he was too busy campaigning and he had no time to take her there. My grandma died two months after. She never got to see that elegant mausoleum. We didn't get to see it either. We buried her within a pile of wood and hollow blocks. That was supposed to be the beautiful mausoleum that he kept telling her. Just like the huge fortune that was always coming his way, that mausoleum was also a figment of his imagination.

We weren’t stupid. The money that was given to him was more than enough to build a mausoleum. We believed that he used up all that money for his campaign. He used up all that money to fulfill one of his stupid lifelong ambitions. He wanted to fulfill his quest for wealth and power. Never mind if it was such a long shot. He just had to do it, no matter what. There was no other logical explanation. Of course he denied all this, with tears flowing through his eyes, saying he was deeply hurt that we would even think that he was capable of such a thing. But how the hell could we believe him? He had no job, he had no money to fund his campaign. Where the heck did he get all that money that he used?! If anything, those tears represented all the guilt that he was feeling. He wasn’t hurt because we accused him of such a terrible thing. He felt guilty because h
e has done such a terrible thing. We didn’t care if he chose to remain in his dreamworld all our lives. He could have easily brought us all down with him, but our grandmother was there to keep us from falling with him. Now he gets all the money from our grandparent’s tenants. He gets a lot of money, yet he never gets to save anything. He gets a lot of money from the tenants, yet somehow he still fails to pay the bills on time, and that me and my brother have to use our own money to pay for some of our household expenses. It’s all gone in an instant, because he needs every cent to fund his expensive lifestyle. He needs every cent to impress the people around him. He needs every scent to maintain the impression that he has a lot of money. He needs so much money to pay for our estate tax, yet he doesn’t allocate funds for that. For someone who is unemployed, he was very lucky that the bank gave him a loan, but that loan still isn’t enough to pay for the estate tax. The deadline is only several months from now, but still he acts as if there’s nothing to worry about. And to add insult to injury, he’s planning an expensive family trip for all of us abroad, and when I asked my mom where the hell is he going to get the money for that, I was surprised by what she said. He was planning to use part of the money that the bank loaned to him… even if that money still wasn’t enough to pay for the taxes. I shouldn’t even be surprised. I’ve known this man for years, and he’s really like that. Nothing should surprised me anymore.

He’s a
man with no direction.

He’s a
man with blind ambition.

He’s a
man who can’t get his priorities straight.

He’s the
man that I would never ever want to become.


I remember one instance many summers ago. We were on our way home from our family vacation. 70's music was playing on the radio. My dad was driving the car, talking to my mom. My siblings were asleep, and I was pretending to be asleep. They were talking about us, and I heard him say to my mom that there was nothing he would not do for his children. All these years, all we ever wanted was for him to wake up. All we ever wanted was for him to change. If he would really do anything for us, why the hell can't he even do something as simple as that.

All my life, I've heard so many lies and fabrications from my dad. Plus a lot of wishful thinking in between. I guess it wouldn't come as a surprise that those words that he spoke to my mom many summers ago were nothing but lies as well.

Monday, September 27, 2010

All Rage and Fury

I used to be that sort of person. The one who just lets things pass. The one just keeps everything in stride. The one who can still manage to smile even when everything is boiling deep inside. That was me back then. And this is me now.

In recent years, it’s becoming harder and harder to keep the anger inside. It’s just that I’ve become pissed with so many things in my life, and one thing just tends to aggravate all the others. When I’m trying to contain all that anger inside me, it all builds up. And every now and then, I could no longer contain the pressure, and I just burst from the slightest provocation. But after that I feel fine again. All the anger has gone away. All that’s left is an empty vessel, ready to be filled up again.

It used to take such a long time before that vessel is all filled up. But these past few weeks, I’ve been losing my temper way too often. Ever since I’ve had the taste for blood on my grandmother’s funeral march, ever since I’ve experienced that unique feeling of exhilaration… I seem to have been looking for it. For the past couple of months, almost every time that I have been driving during rush hour, I engage in a shouting match with several stupid drivers. And it’s not just purely shouting. I immediately get out of my car, shouting at the other driver, taunting him, telling him to get out of his fucking car and face me like a man. And every time, I’m ready to fight. Every time, I want to fight. And all those times, the other person always backs off. No one seems to have to guts to fight a seemingly crazy person shouting hysterically in public, for all the world to see. Then there was this one time at the gym last week, when I got so annoyed with this guy who kept on grunting loudly every time he was lifting weights. I got so pissed off that I shouted at him, telling him that if he didn’t stop all that annoying grunting, I was going to shut him up permanently. Everyone looked at me, and i didn't care. all I wanted to do was to fight. This guy was bigger than me in every way. Taller than me. Way more muscular than me. There was no way I was going to win a fight with this guy, he could easily beat me to a pulp. Yet I didn’t care.
All I wanted was to fight. I wasn’t thinking anymore. All I wanted was to release my anger, I didn’t care anymore if I would get hurt in the process. I had no regard for safety. It’s not just about that great feeling you get when your anger is released. It's not just about that great feeling you feel when you beat up somebody. It's not just about that great feeling you get when you've won a battle based on strength. I was looking for something more. Maybe subconsciously, I do want to get hurt. I want to punish myself, because subconsciously, I’ve been telling myself that I deserve to get hurt. I’ve done so many mistakes in my life, I haven’t done so many things that I should have done, I’ve hurt so many people both intentionally and unintentionally… and I feel that I have to get hurt. I feel that I have to suffer. It’s not enough that I keep beating myself up. Others have to beat the hell out of me as well. I do not deserve all the great things that have happened to me. I don’t deserve such care, such love. I keep wallowing on self pity, yet it’s still not enough. This could just be the result of all the sorrow and grief that I’ve been feeling for the past few months… and all that anger only creates a greater turbulence of emotions. This may just be a phase, I don’t know. All I know is I’ve been feeling so low lately. Maybe someone has to hit me hard on the head to get me out of it. maybe someone has to totally beat me up and leave me for dead to make me realize how pathetic i have been acting lately. But I know that I do not deserve such a quick escape. Maybe to continue wallowing in pain and sorrow is exactly the type of punishment that I deserve. Maybe I haven't suffered enough. Maybe i deserve to suffer more.

Maybe.

Sunday, September 19, 2010

Hereafter

I've been spending the last couple of days in my grandma's room. I've been sleeping there for the past two nights as well. It's funny how everyone else seems to be afraid to be left alone inside her room. Somehow, being inside her room gives me comfort. Staying in her room fills me with grief... the rush of painful memories is just too much for me to bear... but it gives me an odd sense of comfort as well.

I really don't understand why my parents and my siblings are behaving that way. I guess people who are not in the medical field see things differently. they are prone to religious manipulations, and are more receptive to folklore and superstitions. i don't believe in ghosts. i don't believe in spirits who choose to remain with the living because they still can't move on for whatever reason. With the number of deaths that I have witnessed, with the number of times i spend alone in dark and secluded places, if those entities were real, i would have seen one by now. Every now and then i hear people saying that they have seen ghosts, that they have seen departed loved ones... in my head, I just keep on saying bullsh*t. There is absolutely no proof. All we have are anecdotes, people swearing by what they thought they have seen, but with absolutely no tangible evidence to support their pronouncements. It's been well documented that people are prone to experience visual and auditory hallucinations whenever they are stressed, whenever they experience much grief. I have tried to explain this to my mom, to my aunt, to my cousins who have sworn that they've seen their departed loved ones reaching out to them. but even with sufficient evidence, when it comes to the battle between what's real and what's only an illusion, people would still choose to believe what they want to believe. I can't really say I blame them. When the truth hurts as much as it does sometimes, it is better to believe in lies when they give us so much comfort.

My family believes that my grandma's presence is still in her room. That's the exact words of my dad. Let's say for the sake of argument, she still is. her spirit is still with us. I am willing to suspend my disbelief. I just can't understand why they are so afraid of her. She played a big part in all our lives. She played such a big part in my life. How I can I possibly be afraid of her. If it's true that she's still there, i would spend more time there, talking to her, trying to reach out to her. And that's exactly what i have been doing for the past few days. i suspended my disbelief, and tried to reach out to her.

Most of the time I just sit on her chair. Looking at her photo albums, watching TV, eating a snack, but most of the time i just sit there doing nothing. i try talking to her, asking her how she felt about me, if she was angry, if she was disappointed. I tell her how sorry I am for not doing enough. for never doing enough. but most of the time, i just sit there, in silence. And then without warning and without any provocation, I always start to cry. There were still so many things that i wanted to do, and so many things that I wanted to say, but i just couldn't. Because the belief that she's still here with us is nothing but superstition. I never wanted to admit this, but everyone knows that i was her favorite grandchild, and I just find it impossible to believe that she reached out to our family driver, that she made her presence felt to our housekeeper, but she never tried to reach out to me. The things that they say they've seen, the noises that they say they've heard, the things that they say they've felt--- all of those things are nothing but figments of their overly active imaginations, because their minds have been programmed to react in such a way. Because the minds of most people have been programmed to react in such a way when faced with death. All those hours that i spend inside her room, those two nights that i cried myself to sleep in her bed, all those times that i have been talking to her, crying out to her, and i never got any answer. not even one small sign that she could hear everything that i have been saying. I try to convince myself that she's still there, but i never got any confirmation. Because all those stories are just lies after all. Lies created by people to give themselves comfort. Lies that are passed on in every generation, so that it would be easier for all of us to cope with such loss. So that it would be much easier for us to move on. We pretend that it's not really too late because there's still an afterlife, and our loved ones are still watching us, guiding us as we go on with our lives. We pretend that it's never too late because they can still hear us say thanks, they can still hear our apologies. But it's all just a myth. There is no afterlife. Upon death, there is only nothing. We created this selfish fantasy so that we could feel good about ourselves. So that we could get rid of the grief... so that we can be free from the guilt. so that we can avoid all the pain that we deserve, all the hurt that we should be feeling indefinitely. We can say thanks, we can ask for forgiveness, we can tell them how much we love them, we can tell them all the things that we never told them when they were still alive... we can tell them all those words that would have mattered if we had told them when we could still hold their hands, when we could still see their smiles, when they could still answer back... but all this would be futile, because all those words wouldn't reach anyone. We could still make believe and convince ourselves otherwise, but the truth is, it's all just a myth. it's all make believe. It's all bullsh*t. I can no longer reach her, no matter how hard i try... because she is long gone.

And that only makes the guilt, the loneliness, and the pain that i have been feeling so much harder to bear.