lost

The last day of the first moon.

I haven't written like this for quite some time--writing without a goal or reason. Or maybe there is, but that reason remains to be discovered, and I am just again that lost kid wandering along some path, somewhere, looking for something interesting in the grass.

I'm tired of responsibility, of having to do this, do that. I actually have some pending: a writing job, a guide, report on Monday, a small skit tomorrow. Yet like all past nights I think I won't find comfort in accomplishing anything that the world deems important. And I'm actually frustrated at how all the things I used to do and enjoy became just tasks in themselves, telling myself that I'd be happy if I do that when I'm only half-pleased.

Even writing, used to be my release, became just a task. And like a suicidal bitch or one of those riding the emo trend I figuratively slash and slash until I bleed. Hey, I have a masochist streak. Or this feels like the time that my mom went emo-ish. Like mother like daughter, people say. I'd hate to go down that path, but I think I am, at least in this aspect.

I hate this despair that pulls me under, rendering me incoherent. May the muse come upon me again; I cling on to a thread from her dress and crumbs from her pocket.

For once, I'm going to spare myself of all the metaphors. We've been writing them for too long, like what you've just written, and sometimes some things are better left written plain and simple.

It only pains me that you can't--you didn't--talk about it with me. And I'm frustrated.

You know how understanding I am and could be, specially with you. But it does have a limit, and this is near the edge already. I just wish we've talked; because honestly my instinct told me something was wrong even with all those smileys. Something wasn't quite there, and well, I wish it would come back; that something that made us stay up a bit late, just talking.

How I've missed that.

This is why I hate loving somebody; I'd bring my defenses down and let somebody in. Then I'd get hurt. Or more precisely in this situation, the both of us.

This is prolly my bad karma saying hi, just in time for my new background.

Well I hope you'd enjoy the silence.

knowledge-driven economies

We were just telling each other stories in Katag about our high school experiences when Dimple brought up how she graduated from high school by asking a classmate to write her final paper for a fee. And in my case, doing someone else's assignment too for a fee. This is, in its simplest form, what they call the knowledge-driven economy at work.

After all, this is the age where your buying power is measured by your degree, or your selling power by the patents you hold. This is the age where instant money is available through answering sometimes obscure questions in game shows. Gone is the age of manual labor--replaced by machines that are build on and from a foundation of knowledge.

This is the age of the white-collar worker; enclosed in his/her cube of glass, steel and plastic, he/she controls the world or helps "run" it.

And it's not necessarily for the better--as my Anthro prof had said, this mindset placed the manual laborers at the bottom of our priorities. She continued by saying we could live without accountants (who are, well, white-collar) but we can't live without the farmers that supply us food. Not to slam accountants--they're also important--but at the very least we musn't treat blue collar workers as lesser. Their work is as every bit as essential to those of the office worker.

Maybe it's time to appreciate them more.

skylines

Originally posted @ my Eng11 class' yahoogroup.

[At the corner of Aurora and Katipunan]

Street level.

The chorus of Manila the fair's multitude of horns blare from across the asphalt ways. I play patintero with the metal-skinned beasts of the street, their riders trying to outwit and outmaneuver each other to claim the title "King of the Road". Shielding myself from their black breath, I make my way to the riders' bay along with many others, hitching a ride as well for a token fee.

Jeepney.

I try to sneak a gaze out of the open window. But in this sardine tin can barreling down this stretch of road, had I not known by heart these paths, I would've missed my stop. The riders, after all, have to survive the race. Only the wind, with her silent ways, manage to flit in and out of our consciousness as we run on, hopefully unhindered.

Car.

Cocooned in steel and glass, I am shielded both by this shell and the music blaring from the twin blackboxes succintly hidden in the folds of this plastic-and-metal body. Let them riders fight over the ways--my rider, an expert rider in his own right, can outmaneuver and outrun them all. Besides, there is no need for us to fight for prey--our hunts concern not these small tokens that they give.

The lesser gods look down upon us, their well-lit altars consuming the stars.

acknowledgments

A little more than a year after this blog's creation and almost a week into this new year. Odd, really, that this little plot of cyberspace I call my own has survived for this long; one of life's odd miracles.

The past year has been quite memorable, and not necessarily for all the wrong reasons. Last year was a showcase of injuries and the horrors of hospital food, of victory on both online and irl planes of reality (though online > irl), and of several weird moments from fugly bunny wars to soupbowls.

So before I'd forget, I'd like to thank the people who have helped, pushed, and shoved me to where I am now. Yeah, I know this'll sound like some crummy acceptance speech at one of those awards shows; but who knows I might get to use this for those kinds of functions in the future (*cats growl in disbelief*).

To start, thanks to my family (even though I hope they won't read this crummy blog of mine). Though we may not agree most of the time on a myriad of issues. At least I learned from you guys when to talk and when to shut up.

To my blockmates, soon-to-be orgmates (hopefully), classmates and school friends (tmtm): you guys are the actual reason why I go to school. To my profs, too, for understanding and not flunking me even if I missed almost a month of classes.

To Sammm and Kat, thanks for appreciating those BBQ Chicken Wings even if they were a bit dry and those long hours of Hangaroo and Text Twist. Hope we reach that 100k score next time.

To the team--servers may crash and games may not last forever, but friendships do. Another year of sabaw is starting, and hopefully the first emblem will be redeemed >:)

Thanks to the HOL family--to quote Reese Witherspoon in Legally Blonde, "We did it!" Here's to another year of wars, hotseats and scandals!

And to Dave--for believing in me even in my tipsy/sabaw moments. Looking forward to another year with you. :)

Now let's get this year started.