A Welcome Reprieve

Finally, Dreamworks Animation is on the right track.

I like watching most of the movies that they've produced. They're good for laughs, and they are worth several viewings, but the animated movies that they make usually depend on a lot of slapstick humor, littered with a bazillion pop culture references... and offer nothing more than that. Besides The Prince of Egypt, I cannot recall any animated movie that they have produced that truly resonates. Their movies are obviously well made, but they are the type of movies that you would forget after a few months. Most movies made by Pixar, on the other hand, are considered classics. Those movies can truly affect a viewer, they can elicit the right emotions. Their animated efforts are the type of movies that you won't mind watching again and again and again. They have mastered the art of making animated movies through the years, and they have the key ingredient that all the movies produced by other studios lack. Pixar movies have heart.

How To Train Your Dragon leaves all the slapstick humor behind. This time, jokes aren't on the forefront. For a change, their primary goal is to tell a story. Sure, there are jokes inserted here and there, but eliciting laughter from the audience doesn't seem to be the primary concern now. And the funny scenes blend well with the plot--- those scenes don't feel forced anymore. As always, the animation is top notch, and those flying sequences can be really breathtaking when seen in 3D. But the emphasis on the story this time around is what makes it really stand out. It's so different from their usual movies that it's such a welcome reprieve. The movie is not quite a classic yet--- a more original and less derivative storyline could make that difference, but at least the studio is now headed towards the right direction. The upcoming Shrek movie shows that old habits die hard, but I'm hoping that their future movies would be more like this one. Finally, there's a studio that could possibly stand next to the mighty Pixar.

Midpoint

Back when I was a kid, I always prayed before going to sleep. And before I ended each prayer, I had “wishes” that I would always enumerate. A lot of kids would wish for super powers, and I was one of those. And the last thing that I would always ask for is to live a longer life--- to live until the age of 30 to be exact. I was paranoid when I was young, I kept on thinking that each day could be my last. I don’t know the reason why I thought of the age of thirty. I guess back then, a 30 year old guy seemed to old already. I guess I thought back then that by the time I reached 30, I would have accomplished a lot of things. Back then, I thought I would have my own house, I would be happily married, and I would already have several kids. Back then, I thought that by the time I reached 30, my life would already mean something.

And now that I’m thirty, I can say that nothing can be further from the truth.

I feel as if my life hasn’t even begun yet. There are still a lot of things that I want to do, and here I am, still struggling to get out of the starting point. I want nothing more than to move forward, but things keep holding me back. I want nothing more than to gain independence and live my life on my own and see where it takes me, but I can’t seem to move forward because I still depend on my family for almost everything. There are still things left at home that I can’t just leave behind. I want my self to amount to something, I want to leave my mark. I’ve probably already lived more than half of my life. Thirty years can go by so fast. I may have less than thirty years left to live... I wonder if I can still do so much.

Not having a job makes me feel worthless. And with all of the things happening these days, God knows I can use some sort of a day job to keep me distracted. Yet I know that having a job would throw the entire family in disarray. I’m the only one who can watch over my grandfather in the hospital at night. So I guess this has to be my everyday routine until the next month or so. With the rate that his illness has been progressing, I seriously doubt if he would live until the next month anyway.

When the clock struck twelve midnight on the 20th of March, I was with him at the hospital. He was sound asleep, nothing seems to keep him awake for long these days. Amidst all the stillness, I just sat there beside his bed, staring at him. He looked so different from the grandfather I knew. He looked so different from the person I said goodbye to last November, he looked so different from the person who welcomed me back when I got home. He looked so tired and beaten, as if all the life has already been taken out of him. I touched his arms, and all I felt were skin and bones. He couldn’t even eat even if he wanted to. At those times when he would awaken for a few minutes, he would ask for something to eat. He couldn’t even swallow liquids anymore. Each attempt to feed him is an exercise in futility. He would also ask if he could stand up, which actually means only leaning on us because he can’t stand up on his own anymore. I never really felt that close to him in the past, but a few minutes after twelve that night, after staring at him for a few minutes, I felt tears running down my cheeks. I couldn’t figure out why, but as I sat there alone with him, I couldn’t help but cry.

Each day my grandma and my dad would remind me to ask my grandpa where he put the money that he withdrew from his bank account a few months back. For some reason, they think that if my grandpa would tell it to someone, that someone would be me. They want me to ask him if he bought something, if he gave it away, or if he hid it somewhere--- apparently, that’s a riddle that has to be answered in order for them to have some peace of mind. That’s quite an impossible task because he’s just sleeping most of the time, and whenever he speaks, I couldn’t even understand what he’s saying anymore. But even if I could understand what he’s saying, I couldn’t really bring myself to ask him. It’s just money. There are more pressing concerns these days besides money, and to ask him such things during those few minutes when he’s awake seems a little too insincere. The very thought of that made me cry even more. It would be better to just make the remaining few days of his life as comfortable as possible. There’s no use in dwelling on such things. I wonder why they couldn’t just let it go.

He has already lived for 80 years. I wonder if he already feels fulfilled. I wonder if he thinks that he has lived long enough. I for one do not wish to live that long. Looking ahead while I’m at that certain point in time, I wouldn’t want to live past the age of 70… or whatever age when I would have to depend on others for everything. Never mind if the people who are with me that time are more than willing to take care of me, never mind if they are willing to make a lot of sacrifices just because they love me… I don’t think my sense of pride would allow me to revert back to such a dependent state. I wouldn’t want to cause any burden to anyone. And losing that sense of independence that I would have worked so hard to achieve would cause an even bigger burden on myself. Although we’re doing all these things for my grandfather now out of love, I know how much trouble this whole ordeal has been causing us, and I would never want to cause this much disarray to my future family. I’d rather die abruptly than to watch myself slowly wither away. I’d rather die quickly than to watch such burden slowly break down my family. Better to end my life abruptly than to prolong the agony for all of us. There’s this feeling of ambivalence that can’t seem to go away. You’d want nothing more than your love one to life longer. If it’s possible, you’d even want them to live forever. Yet on the other hand, You’re wishing that such an ordeal would end soon, because the physical and emotional strain that it has been causing can seem a little too much, especially when it drags on and on, and there’s no end in sight.

I’m probably more than halfway through my life. Would have some sense of accomplishment 30 years from now? I don’t really know. 30 years go by so fast, and at the rate I’m going, 30 years might not be enough.

And the sad thing is, when that time comes, I may no longer have the strength to do the things that would give me some sense of fulfillment. And I would hate it if when that time comes, I would lie in some hospital bed, barely able to move, thinking about the sad, pathetic life I have lived--- full of regrets, wondering if I could have lived my life differently, wondering if I could have done more. I hope that such is not the case with my grandfather. I hope that as he looks back on his life, it would leave a smile on his face. When the time finally comes, I hope that he would die a happy man.

The Sick Cycle

The carnival has started. In fact, it has already reached fever pitch.

I’m not really a fan of elections in this country. It all seems so pointless. It’s nothing but an exercise in futility. Because no matter who wins, nothing changes. People keep making the same mistakes, they keep on making the same stupid decisions. People don't use their heads when they cast their votes, they are easily swayed by emotions. They are easily swayed by the popular sentiment. Their emotions cloud their capabilities for logical thinking, that they often think they are making the right choices--- to the extent that they would fight for these choices with such conviction. And then after a few years, people keep on blaming each other, even though they are part of the blame themselves. It’s funny when you think about it. In fact, I would be laughing out loud if the consequences weren’t so depressing.

Fine. We can blame the masses. Most of them are uneducated and since they make up the majority, they can dictate the outcome of elections. To solve this problem, we should educate the masses, that’s what they say. But with the mess that this country’s educational system is in, all I can say is good luck with that. As long as they are uneducated, we can’t really blame them for making stupid decisions. What pisses me of more are so the so called educated people. They keep on blaming the masses when they themselves keep on making the same stupid decisions. They keep on voting for the wrong people. What’s the use of all that education when they can’t even use a bit of common sense.

Take one leading candidate for example. He has gained a lot of support from the educated and the elite. For the life of me, I can never understand how anyone who’s even using half a brain could support such a candidate. He has a long political history, I’ll give him that--- but he has done close to nothing despite that long political history, and that’s just so pathetic. Arguably, he may not be corrupt, he may be honest--- but is that the sole criteria for choosing someone to lead our country? He lacks the necessary skills to properly lead a nation of millions. Heck, he can’t even stand up for himself. Up until now, every word that comes out of his mouth obviously came from someone else’s. And the reasons that I hear from my peers just leave me dumbfounded. These are doctors, lawyers, businessmen--- they are all educated. Yet the reasons they give for supporting such candidates just leave me scratching my head.

I asked my friends out of curiosity why they are supporting a certain candidate. The most frequent reason--- he has integrity. He’s honest. He’s not corrupt. I doubt that anyone can say for certain that he’s not capable of corruption, but for the sake of argument, lets say he isn’t. Is integrity the sole factor for choosing the right candidate? Shouldn’t he have leadership skills? Shouldn’t he possess intellect as well? Watching the presidential debates would be enough to see how incapable he is, yet most people choose to turn a blind eye. Can’t we choose someone who has both the necessary skills as well as integrity? If you’re going to say that there’s no such candidate, then I urge you to please look again. If you still can’t see that there are such candidates, then I’m sorry to say that’s there’s no hope for your stupidity. What’s the use of all that education when you’re not even using the things you have learned.

Another stupid argument I hear from the “educated”? They have grown tired of intelligent leaders. We’ve already had intelligent and capable leaders in the past, and look at where they have brought us. Of course there are other factors to be considered. Many factors have brought us to where we are now, we can’t just blame it on our capable leaders. I can say that given our situation, they’ve probably handled it the best way they can. Can these people imagine our condition if some of our past leaders weren’t as capable? Well, I guess they can’t imagine such a scenario, they lack the necessary brain power to visualize hypothetical scenarios. After all, they’re saying that integrity alone can make us soar higher.

Some even say that they won’t vote for an intelligent and capable candidate because our present leader is intelligent and capable yet that leader is very corrupt. Way to go! I find it remarkable that adults can think as such. I thought only children generalize. All intelligent people are corrupt. Then I guess all people with integrity are stupid. With such narrow minded reasoning, it’s no wonder these people are supporting whoever it is they are supporting.

The other frequent reason that I hear? Because his parents are considered heroes. They were great leaders. They were people of integrity. Even a kid who is only in third grade knows that such traits aren’t inheritable. Children can be very different from their parents. And again, anyone with half a brain can recognize that he is far from his parents. I just can’t help but wonder why people fail to recognize the stupidity of such line of thinking.

Another reason? He’s the lesser of two evils. Whoever said that there are only two choices? The problem is, even the educated people are swayed by surveys. Sure these surveys have a scientific basis, but we can never be really sure of their accuracy. And let’s admit that sometimes they can be used as a tool for mind conditioning. Still, most people just look at the leading candidates, and then choose between them. As I have mentioned above, the uneducated can greatly influence votes, so it’s no wonder the leading candidates are always those who lack the necessary skills. They just make up for it with charisma, eloquent words, with flashy ads, with celebrity endorsements--- the stuff that the uneducated go for. They keep on saying stuff that the masses want to hear, who cares if these are empty promises, who cares if what they are saying are downright lies. That’s what it takes to win, and the masses are buying it. It’s always like this. And then years after, the elite would bitch and complain, forgetting the fact that years ago they voted for the very same candidates that they are loathing now. Because he or she was the lesser evil. Why are the educated being influenced by the uneducated? Shouldn’t it be the other way around? We don’t have to choose between two evils since there are better candidates who deserve our support. If only the educated would vote for the deserving candidates even though all surveys show that they are unlikely to win--- who knows? Maybe sufficient votes would be reached, giving those deserving candidates a shot. But alas, most people don’t want to take such risks. They don’t want to waste their votes on a losing candidate. With the way the uneducated people keep influencing the votes of the educated, then it’s no wonder that this country is as fucked up as it is. It’s a vicious cycle, and the end is nowhere in sight. The masses keep on making stupid choices. And the so called intelligent people keep on making decisions that are just as stupid. What’s worse, their pride and arrogance prevent them from seeing how stupid their choices are. They are educated, so they are making the right choices. Some of them know how faulty their arguments are, they realize how stupid their decisions are, yet they still make such decisions for whatever selfish reasons that they have. That’s even worse. As long as the educated keep their brains in its present state of dormancy, then there’s just no hope for this god forsaken country.

Torn

I hate to admit it, and I feel guilty that I’m even feeling this way… but this routine is slowly getting tiresome.

After being admitted at the hospital for a few days due to extreme weakness, my grandpa is finally back home. Not that anything has changed as far as his strength is concerned. He’s still extremely weak, I wonder if he was really fit to be discharged from the hospital. I even wonder if he should have been admitted in the first place. I mean, I doubt if he could ever get his strength back. But he’s already back home, and the past two days seemed to have made everyone in the house tired and weary.

I'm starting to find my everyday routine tiresome. I always have to check on both of my grandparents every few minutes when I’m at home--- and that’s most of the time. I only work twice a week… I doubt if I can actually call what I am doing as work. When put in another perspective, the time I spend at work is actually my free time. I go to work just to take a break from it all. The things I do at home is causing me too much stress. I do more work at home, and I seldom rest. I have to check on their medications, give intravenous meds, assist them as they are trying to walk, change diapers and even feed them at times. I’ve become a personal caregiver with a degree in medicine. I don’t mind doing all those things since I owe my grandparents a lot and God knows that I love them. It’s just that there comes a point every now and then when all these things pile up and I reach the brink of my tolerance.

But compared to what our two household helpers have been doing, I guess I have it easy. All of a sudden, their work load has been multiplied a tenfold, and the things they do are definitely not included in their job description. The time and effort that they give are definitely not proportionate to the salaries they have been getting, and I predict that at least one of them will leave on the next few days. They couldn’t even sleep for crying out loud. How could they when the buzzer would ring every few minutes or so, which means that either my grandpa or grandpa needs help with something. And they choose no specific hours. Even during the wee hours of the morning, I hear the buzzer ring a lot of times and it awakens me from sleep every so often. The exasperated sighs I hear from our helpers every time the buzzer rings are sure signs that they too are getting tired of this routine. A few times, they even pretend not to hear that dreaded buzzer. I can’t really blame them. I mean, even I wouldn’t last this long doing those things for people I’m not even related to, especially if I do not receive just compensation for all the time and effort that I give.

My grandparents don’t even want me to go out of the house. They want me to be always there just in case they needed me for something... stuff that no one else could do. As much as I want to get out just to get some air, the look in their eyes as they plead me not to leave makes it hard for me to say no. There are times that I get to sneak out late at night, but evidently they would discover that I left. When I’m out I get this indescribable feeling of elation that only freedom can give. But when I get home, the manner in which they ask me why I went out really saddens me. It tears my conscience apart as if I have done something that was gravely wrong. How I hate that feeling.

Earlier my grandpa asked me if i will be leaving the country soon. I told him it won’t be able to work abroad this year, I have to wait until the next year. After that, my grandma told me to just stay with them. She asked me if it would be possible for me to just stay in this country. Even though I wanted nothing more than to get out of this god forsaken place, I found it hard to tell her that. How I hate this feeling. I hate it when I’m torn between two things. I want nothing more than to get out of here, but at the same time, I’d hate to leave them here. I hate the fact that my family is holding me back, and it sucks even more because I love them. If I leave I won’t completely be happy because I’ll be thinking about them, but if I stay here I would never be happy. Whatever decision I make, I just can’t win. It sucks that I can’t have it both ways, but ultimately I have to choose. At this point in my life I am more inclined to do what I want. I am more inclined to base my decisions on what’s good for me, and I try so hard not to be swayed by love or pity. At times it would seem to be a losing battle, because family just holds so much weight, but still I have to try. It’s like choosing the lesser of two evils. In life, nothing is perfect, nothing feels completely right, nothing can make us completely satisfied. My conscience will continue to nag me, but oftentimes our conscience is being unfair so it would be best to simply ignore it. I won’t be turning my back on them completely, and it’s about time I made definite plans that would impact the rest of my life. It's about time that I make long term plans. One’s family shouldn’t hold one back. One’s family should support one’s dreams and help them reach their goals. I can’t devote my whole life to them, even though it’s only temporary. I have to leave a part for myself. I can’t put everything on hold waiting for the inevitable--- who knows how long it would take? I’ve put my life on hold for so many years now, maybe I deserve the chance to slowly move on. How can that be so wrong? Why does this conscience keep on bothering me, as if this is so wrong? I am determined to go on with this path I have chosen. I’ll keep walking on this rocky path no matter how hard it seems, and I would try to keep myself from stalling every time that I look back. I’ll keep moving along, hurdling over all obstacles, resisting the urge to head back, even if it would ultimately break me apart.

Remnants

I just had to make a quick stop. I just had to drop something off. I figured I wouldn’t even stay for 10 minutes, so it wouldn’t do any harm. After all, even with all the things that happened to me a few years ago--- they weren’t all bad. In fact, I did have some good times. Although a lot of the things that happened were things that I’d rather forget, some of the memories that I have of the place are memories that I will treasure forever. Even though the place represents all that is wrong with this country’s healthcare system, I do not hate the place. I do not love it either--- far from it. But I guess you could say that the hospital where I used to work has earned a special place in my heart... no matter how hard I try to deny it.

So I passed by before going home, because my friend just HAD to get her stuff that I had with me. There was this sense of urgency that I could not understand, but still I obliged. I called her up when I got there, a quarter past three in the morning, but she said it would take her a few more minutes before she can meet me outside. Great. Despite the sense of urgency that she had earlier, she couldn’t come out quickly. I did not want to pay the parking fee, so I just drove around. As I looked around the place, the things I saw broke my heart.

Nothing has changed. Everything remained the same. There was a time when nothing could affect me anymore. Seeing the same things everyday tends to numb one’s heart, and I reached the point when I did not care anymore. Patients were ignored. Some patients were already sleeping on the sidewalks. Some were sent away. Some were being shouted at. Some were treated like dirt. There’s just too many of them, waiting for their turn to be seen, waiting patiently because they have no other choice. They couldn’t afford to go anywhere else. They have no other place to go. I guess being away from this place for so long has weakened my convictions, and has softened my emotions once again. A few weeks ago, I thought that I have already reached a decision, and I thought that decision was already final. I thought that I finally knew what I wanted, and that nothing can stop me from doing what I want… but the sight of all those people who need help has made me question myself once again. Those people were the reason why I didn’t want to leave before. A few years ago, upon my graduation from med school, I wanted nothing more that being able to help those people who need my help. I wanted nothing more than to serve the less fortunate. That’s why I decided to work there in the first place. I didn’t care about money, I didn’t care about whatever training I would receive. I simply wanted to help. But the series of events that transpired after that has made me numb to all of their needs, and made me deaf to all of their cries. There comes a time when a sensible man has to choose, and when I came to my senses, I simply made a choice. Not being entirely selfless doesn’t make one selfish. I also have to think of myself. But it looks like a part of my past convictions have remained. A lot of my past self may have already dissipated, but it seems that a significant part of it has remained. It may be small, but it’s significant enough to be bothering my conscience this way.

Crap. If only I was the type of person who can readily turn a deaf ear, who can easily turn a blind eye, then it wouldn’t be so difficult for me. I keep on telling myself to stop being so emotional, but somehow, I always tend to forget. I should learn to stop doing things out of pity, and start doing the things that make me happy. Only then would I be free from all this misery.