Well, there goes that resolve. I don’t know why I’m even like this. Probably because I’m a stupid obsessive asshole who can’t take a hint. Green’s here today… completely visible from where I’m sitting. When I pass by her area I just get a tiny hint of her scent and it drives me wild. My decision to avoid her completely makes me want to stab myself with an ice pick for thinking that I could pull that off. I’ve never been good at going cold turkey and seeing her everyday doesn’t help it one bit.

When I pass by her terminal, I see her typing slowly and makes me ache that I can’t sit by her side to hear those slow taps that fill me with joy. I sit and see her face, the monitor giving her already glowing face a little more glow. I could stare at her the whole day and not get tired. Every song I hear makes me think about Green and every song seems to be about her, about me liking her, about me not able to be with her. I see how her eyes move reading the stuff in the monitor, wishing that I were those words she sees. I even get stupid quotes in my head and contemporize then into stupid sounding ones. No, I won’t say those what those are. I may be desperately head over heels but I think I still have my judgment. (Actually, I was going to put one but after rereading it… it was just sad and stupid.)

Our eyes sometimes meet and in the few microseconds that it takes for me to look away, I am filled with all the joy when I realize that I have the good luck of being alive and this close to her. Yet, I am also filled with all the sadness when I realize that I can never stare into those eyes and drown myself in them. I think back on the few times that I could have made our time together wonderful but didn’t and I fall just a little farther down my already deep hole of misery.

Day 011

Wouldn’t you know it… It seems Fate likes to torture me with confusing signs. I can’t sit in my normal row recently since the Basis team are here. Now I sit in the row in front of my normal row which brings me closer to Green. Yeah. Something I look so forward to.

Then yesterday, well… yesterday there was something that was going to happen that would have given me the chance to make an ultimatum with Green. It would have made me decide whether I ultimately tell her that I like her and wait for a reaction or not tell her I like her and just continue to blatantly ignore her or to tell her I’m going cold turkey on her because I like her so much. I was looking forward to it as much as a convict on death row does his judgment day. But still, it was a thing I wanted to do so I can actually just get it over it. And Fate knew that. And I’m sure you’ve guessed by now what happened.

Anyway, now I’m absolutely sure that Green knows I’m avoiding her. What I’m not sure of is how she feels about it. She’s avoiding me now too so I guess she’s fine with it. Before when she looks around at her surroundings she would still look in my direction. Now, she skips it. Before I think she still looks at me from her peripheral vision, now I know she doesn’t. I guess I do know how she feels about it.

*Sigh* How I miss being to stare at her while she typed away, smiling. Now I can’t do that for fear that she might see me looking at her and she’s gonna know why I avoid her. It will look bad. Very bad. These are the kinds of situations that even one small assumption can be catastrophic.

There’s something that really pisses me off and that is now that I don’t go near her anymore, some other bastard sits next to her. Though he’s not interested in her, the fact that I hate the bastard since his a pompous ass (or I make him out to be a pompous, I’m not sure. Scratch that, he is.) and that he shares more time with Green even though he doesn’t treasure it as much as I would.

Sorry if this thing is in shambles and the flow of thoughts are in disarray. I am typing as things happen and as feelings surge. I like her high cheek bones. Damn. Before I could be so close to her I could probably reach out and touch her and she would let me. We sat so close that even if I didn’t mean to, I would see her. Now, I strain my eye muscles just so I’d see her hand typing away. She has a funny laugh.

She’s doing that stupid thing she does. I keep teasing her about it but she does it anyway. I like her because of that.

I’ve asked a friend about what I should do and he told me not to tell her. Do you know that thing when you think you don’t know which to choose between two things because you think either are just as okay to do as the other so then you ask someone to decide for you so they choose one for you and when you hear the decision it makes you sad and think that they chose wrong? It’s stupid really. I have this thing that when I’m faced with a choice of two things and that I don’t know which to choose, I flip a coin. This helps me about 90% of the time. There are just choices like “regular or large fries” that a coin can be helpful with. However, there is also the 10% that it doesn’t work and those are questions you already know the answer to but you don’t want to see it embodied, much less in a coin.

So now, I know that not telling her is not what I want. I want to tell her. But I can’t. Won’t. Can’t. I don’t know. I want her to know but I know that will change everything and my guts says it’s going to change for the worse. So do I still want to tell her? I don’t know. I don’t think I can. Sometimes I just hope she finds out and she shows me signs of how she feels about it. Or not. Argh!

(Brace yourself. This is going to be a long one.)

This is probably one of the most popular and repeated “love quote” in the world. Though after reading some more of the poem, I found out it isn’t about love and losing it but rather a requiem. I find that the line, even out of context, means the same. Losing someone’s love is about as devastating for me as that person’s death. Probably even more so.

When someone you love is a person who loves you back is the most wonderful thing in the world. Nothing could be greater than knowing that all your love is being returned with equal strength. But when that someone dies, one would think that the love has ended. I don’t think so. The love you two have for each other will forever be there, albeit no physical manifestations. I find that the love will be immortalize as the people who know you both will forever say that there was a love like no other. That the last person that you loved had loved only you. And time will come that you two will be together again.

But when the person you love suddenly tells you that he/she loves you no more, that would be a tragedy of unequal pain. That that person has consciously decided that he/she loves you no more is something only a few can handle. To know that you love him/her but that he/she rejects your love for whatever reason is the saddest thing a person has to live with. Even after all attempts to claim back that love and still you fail, that for me is the lowest point in anyone’s life.

So no, I don’t think that death is worse than losing someone’s love. I think that losing someone’s love because they said so is much much more terrible. Which brings me to why I wrote this. Is it really better to have love and lost than to not have loved at all?

You may be wondering why I am now down in this rut called “being emo” when there were no signs recently that I should be in this state? Well, it’s because I have ultimately decided that I would stop admiring someone because I know that nothing will become of it. It was just last week, I just stared into space and said, “No more.”

I am 25 now and it’s been a long and harrowing life, at least the last decade. I have loved a lot and I have lost a lot. I’ve been burned, ignored, replaced, forgotten, pushed, and whatever forms of rejection there is. A lot. I cannot emphasize that enough. Of the 10 years I tried to have a relationship, only one lasted significantly and that didn’t even end well. Unfortunately for me, I don’t take hints very well and even after all those experiences I still have hope that I would find love. With all I’ve been through, you would think that I would have given up by now. I haven’t. I have friends who’ve been in 7 year relationships then broke up but are still at it. I have friends who’ve been in the relationship game longer than I have and still haven’t lost all hope. So why should I? I still think that there’s love and someone out there for me.

But not from that one person, Green. Yeah, I bestowed that person I have given up on the name, “Green.” I don’t know why.

I first met Green on a regular day, a day just like any other. The moment I saw her, I knew that I will like her. And I did. We talked a few times, teased each other a few times, greeted each other a few times, smiled at each other a few times. Sigh. A few times to many, if you ask me. I knew even only after those few times of interactions that I like Green more than I did others. So, in spite the blaring sirens in my head saying no, I said to myself, “Why not try for love again?”. I should listen to myself more often.

No sooner had I decided to open up my heart for the possibilities of love that I saw the hopelessness of it all. First, it was the subtle, “I don’t see you in that way” remarks that I found cute and challenging, before I saw them for what they were. Then it was the competition. Here I was thinking I had dibs when suddenly there were 3 others (now 4, I think) with the same gleaming eyes of hope that I had. I didn’t have time to flatter myself into thinking that it was equal competition that I found out I was third at best. That is considering only those that I know are after her. Then lastly, though still connected with the second thing, I found out that we had not much in common. That is, relative to the others who also liked Green. The others were into the same things with Green. They even do those things regularly even if the others have had spent equal time with Green as I had.

I held on the glimmer of hope for a while until last week. (As of the writing of this sentence, Green just came into the room. Filling me with more sorrow and irony that I had in a while.) I don’t know what triggered it. Perhaps it was the passing smile that she showed me. Looking at that smile and thinking that that smile will never be meant for me and me alone made my heart shed a tear. Something my heart doesn’t do often for a reason. It hurts as hell. Perhaps it was the gravity of the situation, the thought that I could have done more to show Green that I like her like I like the sun after a rainy weekend. That I would do everything that I can just so I could see her smile everyday. Perhaps, I just lost hope. Perhaps my brain overrode my heart and logically gave up. Perhaps… Perhaps… I don’t know.

Is it really OK to love knowing that you will lose? Is it really worth the pain of losing, of being rejected, of being told by the person you love doesn’t love you back? Is it really better to love knowing you would lose it than to simply push yourself to forget about that love?

The only sure thing I know is that when this article ends, I would have exerted everything that I will ever exert to tell Green that I like her. I choose to not love Green anymore than to love her and lose her. I have been hurt too many times and the signs in the pursuit of this particular person says nothing but hurt and misery.

But I also know that I do have feelings for Green. Even if I know nothing will come out of the next part, I know just have to try one last time. This will be the last act I will do to let Green know. I will give those two lines above a chance to prove me wrong. That it is better to have at least loved even though you lost than to not have been loved at all. In the next part, I wish to tell her that, in spite of the pain, a part of me wants to have even the fleetest moment of our hearts beating as one. Maybe I can stretch that moment into forever. That maybe I don’t have to lose her. But the pain of losing her is far too great for me to bear. So, this is the last shout you’ll ever hear from my heart.

Perhaps it’s not a good idea to even think me as someone to love. Heck, all the rules, morals, and the whole of this Earth says it’s not supposed to be. I think otherwise. Looking into your eyes and seeing you smile tells me that even if I die tomorrow, my life would have been worth it. Let me show you what I can do to make you happy. I know that you are worth loving with all the I am. Please, give me a chance to show you how much I love you.

Right now you may have noticed that I am avoiding you. Ever since I decided that I have been burned enough times, I always do this to the protect myself. You may think it rude but even if I am acting like this, it only means I like you more than enough to know that if this doesn’t end well, despair will consume me.

Can you give me chance? At least for a while, tell me that I have a chance even for a while? Be it a week, a day or even just an hour, can I love you? All that I have, all that I can do, I will give and show you in that week, day or hour. Read my heart, and it will say: “Do you think that you can let me love you? Or at least can you pretend that I can love you even for a while?”

That’s it. That’s the last time I will ever do anything to show you that I have feelings for you. If this article doesn’t reach you, then I guess… well. Never mind. If it does reach you… well. Yeah. I like you.

Having to choose one among your plethora of friends and family you can turn into your inseparable mobile phone soulmate is just not something you can do as easily as blinking. In my case, I’d probably be able to learn how to lobotomize someone before I can confidently say that there’s only one person worthy to be my super one. (Note the sutble difference between “super one” and “Super One” in the article.)

I mean, there’s my dad.

Now he’s a good candidate to be my super one. One, he’s a super dad and two, he’s a big source of *ahem* income *ahem*. He’s really cool and always calls me to ask how I’m doing with work and stuff. Aside from choosing my super dad to be my super one, he’s also a great Super One because think about it, being able to call and ask for money anytime you want would be great.

Then there’s my mom.

She’s going to be a fantastic super one ’cause she she watches a lot of lifestyle shows and reads a lot of magazines about home and comforts and stuff. She’s super since you can ask her help about anything. Even if I pride myself in saying that I know a lot of stuff, I still have a lot to learn, like how and where to store cooked pasta or how to remove a weird stain or how to get rid of roaches. She’s also a great Super One because having the helping super mom a text away would be priceless.

There’s also my sister.

She’s a fantastic candidate since she picks up after me when I get lazy. I mean, I like doing chores when I’m in the mood and I am good at it too but sometimes I am just too lethargic to even bother folding up my clothes before sending it to the laundry. She’s super at cleaning up messes I won’t even consider touching with a ten foot pole. She’s going to be a great super one as well as a Super One because I get lethargic a lot. XP

Then there’s my brother.

We’ve never been really close when we were young but now that we’re older, we seem to have a connection. He’s currently the one left at (provincial) home with my parents. He’s the one who’s “taking care” of them… you know what I mean. Anyway, he’s a fantastic brother and a great Super One so that I can check up on not only him but also my parents.

Then there’s my dog. Oh wait… no, not him. He’s super and all but you’ve got to meet him to appreciate. LOL.

There’s also my friends.

They are great. Fantastic. Super. Each one knowledgable in his/her own field. Some are funny, some are unfortunately not. Some are spenders and some are se… wait… let’s go with “trifty”. Some are wise and some are just learning. They all have a reason to become my super one’s as well as Super One’s but I bet they’d pesk me with questions why I chose one over the other so might as well put them in the list of “not-so-wise-choices” together with my dog. XD

But then among your friends, there’s bound to be best friends. The friend who’ve been with you longer, the friend who you have been with through the best and the worst of each other’s lives, the friend who you can always call on for help and in turn you will help when they need it. I have a friend like that and I pick him as my Super One.

He’s Chairell Winston C. Almendras.

Most know him as Winston and in the online world as Batang Yagit but I call him, Tei. I don’t know if it’s the correct term or what but I’ve read somewhere that it means younger brother in Japanese. Ever since we met in 2005, he’s always been my younger brother (one I bestowed that I will take care of other than my actual younger brother). We currently live at the same place and I could not imagine a better housemate. If I’m low on cash, he’s ready to lend some. If I’m sick he’s more than willing to do my share of the chores. Because of him, I’m now more sociable than I was and I have a lot of friends in Manila now. I choose him as my super one because he is SUPER. You can ask anyone and they’ll say the same thing. I also choose him as my super one since having to be able to call or text the friend that you can always count on is just super. Why, you say, even above my family and the friends who will undoubtedly create a riot because I choose someone else over them will I choose him? Well, family is great and I’d never trade them for anyone else but in this time in my life, the closer proximity of Winston is a whole lot helpful (and it will be even more so when I choose him as my Super One). He’s also the more “generous” among my friends (ahem ahem… friends… there’s a subtle hit there… you know… about the quote generosity unquote part…), not only with financial needs but also his time. So there, my super one and Super One is Tei. =)

The layout of the place is great though confusing at first since the CSR people are hidden behind the display cases and posters, nothing a couple of visits won’t solve. I have not tried their service yet since I have had no need for it. They also offer free WiFi connection for customers in queue (and I bet leeches…), plenty of comfy (well, comfy-looking, I haven’t tried it) chairs, and an interactive touch screen panel that offers FAQ’s like plans and services. Another plus for me since I’m not really big on asking CSRs for mundane questions especially if it entails having to wait in line.

Globe removed the silly dummy preview devices that only gives you the idea of the size of a device but not how it works or even the weight. They have replaced it with demo units that actually works and shows you what the devices can do sans phone connectivity. You won’t have to bother the busy CSRs to just try a phone that you plan to buy in XX months to your heart’s content. They even have multiple demo devices so you won’t need to wait for your turn unless an idiot hogs all the space. Though I do understand the security risks, I have qualms about their choice of anti-theft methods. They are just way too sensitive and the distance that you can pull the device from it’s cradle is too short that you have to bend and lean on the display table to see and test the device properly (well, for me anyway. Bad eyesight). And after 2 or 3 accidental alarms, the security looks at you suspiciously (which I understand but don’t appreciate). They have the top of the line devices displayed which is good since they are most of the time the rarest devices to have demo units in stores. They have devices such as iPads, iPhones, Blackberries, and some Samsung and Nokia high end phones. They also have accessories, like headsets and cases, for various devices.

Head on to the 2nd floor of Greenbelt 4 and visit the new Globe Store.

The last time I was in Cebu was 3 years ago. Ever since then I have always wanted to go back but there was never anytime. Well, this weekend I will have the oppurtunity to go back to the Cebu. What’s even better is that I’m joining Cebu Blog Camp 2010. I won’t just get to go back Cebu but I get to meet other bloggers as well.

Aside from my ticket and lodging (ahem ahem), everything is made possible by our great sponsors:

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Cebu Blog Camp 2010 is an event organized by a group of Cebu Bloggers.

I have habits that are borderline anal and some that are tolerable as eccentric. Take for instance my habit of arranging my money. I like to have all my paper bills (Is this redundant? Kindly correct me.) and sometimes even my coins in a certain way. I can say it’s not that obsessive since I only want them to be arranged from smallest to highest in terms of denomination. When that is done, the ones of the same denominations are arranged from oldest, crumpliest, dirtiest to newest, crispiest and cleanest. Also they must be all “facing” outward with one common ground. Meaning, the faces must…uhm… face forward and that they are all in the upright positions. Really, it’s not that obsessive. I mean, I don’t do that to the coins since they just roll around anyway, so no use in having them upright. They still have to be facing the same way and must be arranged by increasing amounts though.

See, I am not mental. I am completely sane. There’s this other thing though. I can’t and will often not use utensils if they are not “pairs”. To be more specific, if the make, material, color, weight and/or design of the fork is not the same as the spoon, one has to go depending on what I am about to eat. I can sense the ever so slight difference in the weight of the utensils and that bothers me. The thing that bugs me the most is if the one has an intricate design and the other is just plain. I would sooner use my hands than the unpaired utensils. (This is not really a pairing issue, but since I’m already talking about utensils…) Then there’s the plastic utensils. It not only uses fossil fuels to produce, it also causes pollution. Oh, and they are harder and flimsier to use than the severed foot(claw?talon?) of a chicken… not that I ever tried using that. There are just times that I do use unpaired utensils such as when I choose not to be rude to the homeowner or my hunger brings me to the brink of bad judgment. So if you have plans on feeding me, make sure you have matching utensils or serve finger friendly food.

I am the picture of perfect mental health. Not a sign of psychological instability in sight. Oh, and I almost always never pass through anything triangular. Things such as ladders leaning on walls, guy wires of electrical/telephone posts, angled beams, fallen trees leaning on walls, the Eiffel Tower, the Pyramids of Giza… Ahem… Right. Anyway, yeah… I don’t pass through anything triangular in shape. This roots from the belief that walking under a ladder gives you bad luck. I know it’s silly but I believe in certain superstitions especially if they are generally harmless and more on just having something odd to believe in. Don’t worry, I don’t believe in sacrificing virgins… seeing as they are just a few of us left. Just the normal, non-crazy superstitions for me. Like not cutting nails during the night or not opening umbrellas indoors or if someone taps you must tap them back. I don’t want to spoil your fun, so I won’t tell you the reasons and histories of these superstitions. Look them up yourself and see if you are as sane as me.

No strait-jackets, no sedatives for me. I am just your normal everyday Joe. A normal Joe that folds and itemizes every piece of clothing before I bring them to the laundry shop. Yeah, I must have all articles of clothing tagged, logged, noted and finally folded properly before I have them laundered. The list must indicate the quantity, color, material, size, any distinctive marks and brand/manufacturer of the item. I don’t want other people wearing my shirts and much worse *aghast* me wearing theirs.

Really, those things I mentioned above can be present in anyone. Who wouldn’t want to have an organize wallet? Who would be comfortable using a plastic spoon paired with a silver plated fork? Who would want to reuse a table napkin with spaghetti sauce all over it? Well, you’re own spaghetti sauce on your own napkin. I mean, when I eat at a fast food chain then I eat something with sauce or anything that leaves residue on my face then I wipe it with an unused table napkin/tissue, I don’t reuse that napkin/tissue again. Even if it’s still clean on the other side, I most often won’t use it again. I know it’s a waste of paper, kills a lot of trees and is expensive but I just can’t help crumpling an already used napkin/tissue. There are only 2 times I reuse a table napkin/tissue and that’s if it’s the expensive one with a gazillion plies and (of course) given to you sparingly by the establishment and if the sauce if splattered across your face and the nearest available clean napkin/tissue is 3 tables away. Other than that, gimme them table napkins/tissues.

So you see, I am weird but I am far from being hell-bent obsessive. I can still control these habits and can still smile perfectly even if my brain is screaming, “Sacrilege! Blasphemy!” Now leave me alone while I make sure that my shoe laces are lined up equally.

I sometimes, okay always, envy some people I see. Texting with their iPhones and Blackberries (<— funny… Blackberries… tihihi), photographing with D300s, driving with BMWs. They have such a good life. Either really hard working with a very rewarding job, won a contest or have a “sponsor” for thier needs and wants. I would like to have those things. The rewarding job, a winning lottery ticket and a “sponsor”… no wait, I meant the phones, cameras and cars… Right… phones… cameras… I do have a phone, I have a camera I can use, a car whenever I’m in Davao but it feels that I am still wanting more. More specifically, I only want particular things. Expensive things. Why do I like expensive things? I don’t have the faintest idea. I mean, of all the brands out there, why do I seem to go for the branded and usually imported ones? Of all the hobbies I could waste my time on, I happen to pick the ones where it would not only cost me a huge chunk of my life doing but also cleans my bank account in an instant? Of all the food that is available, my taste buds like the ones prepared and cooked by chefs (*sweatdrop* the first word I thought of for the plural of chef was “cheves”…) who had to take culinary arts for 20 years (and no, not because it took them 5 years to learn to boil water)?

*** WARNING!!! Long, boring, filled-with-rants article up ahead. Read at your own risk. ***

Though, mind you, our perception of what expensive is might differ. If you find lighting a Cuban cigar with a P1000 bill is as common as blinking, then you might want to stop reading now. For me, expensive is P1000 for 4 pairs of socks; P600 for a haircut; P400 for 3 pieces of sushi. Or it could also mean that there exists a similar but cheaper item (like, say item A costs P500) and the other (item B) costs like P100 more (for those mathematically challenged, that’s P600) then item B, for me, is expensive. So if you find that my view is similar to yours or if you keep an open mind or have nothing else better to do, then keep reading. Or not.

First point: Clothes. It’s not that I don’t like the affordable(read:mass produced) brands but it just so happens that I haven’t a single skin cell that feels remotely comfortable in most of the local’s textile options. It’s either too thin, too thick, too heavy, too see through, too static electricity producing, or it simply causes me to have goosebumps whenever my skin comes in contact with a piece of lint from the hem of the underside of the collar. It might sound that I am too hard to please… well, I am. But it’s not my fault (and not the point)! I am just this way. My skin has 500 times the sensitivity to these kinds of things. Let me ask you, “Would you wear something given to you for free but you have to focus your mind just not to notice that the material is driving you nuts and is complelling you to take all of it off just so you’d remain sane?” Huh?!? Would you? WOULD YOU?!?! I guessed not. So you see, it’s not like I’m the Devil who only wears Prada, it’s just that I have weird skin. Also, call me old fashioned or plain or whatever, but I really don’t see the point of putting glitters, sequines, rubberized letters, paint splatters, skulls, and farm animals on shirts, pants, jackets, caps, socks, and shoes and g-strings. I like saw that design on a 5 year old’s shirt (I said shirt. Shirt. Not g-string you sick bastard). Yeah, all of those things on a single kid’s shirt. Okay, maybe minus the skulls but I can’t be too sure since the shirt had too many things on it. I can stand a few letters here and there, a brand logo, plaid/stripes/checkered on shirts but that’s about it. I don’t need nonsense words emblazoned in gold letters. I don’t mind words that make you think (seriously) about it, not those that say, “Press to have a fun time” and an arrow pointing to a nipple. I don’t think sickly pink and bright blue should go together either. I mean who in their right mind would put this two together? It might look cute on a 3 year old girl, but generally, it’s just a poor color choice. This, if you haven’t noticed(in which case I have to ask you which rock you’ve crawled out from), is very common among affordable brands. So you see, from just those two things that I need to have satisfied, my choices have narrowed significantly. In this point of my payslip… errr.. I mean, life, I currently have a handful of brands that I buy from. For pants, I generally stick to Jag, Giordano, Dockers, Loalde, and some Bench. For shirts, I stick to: Loalde, Giordano, Van Heusen, Adidas and an occasional Bench. Shoes/Flip-flops/Sandals: Adidas, Converse, Crocs, Sanuk. So as you can see, I have limited choices. They’re not THE really expensive brands, but I can only manage to buy 2 or 3 new articles of clothing every 3 months or so because of my limited… uhm… resources. It could be 2 or 3 every month if only they were cheaper or I was richer. If it were up to me, I’d buy a P3000 shirt but then people might notice that I don’t eat or that I wear the same shirt everyday. So why, do I like expensive clothes? I guess it’s because they have the right material and the common sense not to design their clothes like someone puked on it. The second reason might give the “affordable” brands an idea as to why the expensive ones have thriving businesses.

Second Point: Food. This is easier to explain. I like food. To those who know me or seen me in the corner of thier closed eyes, I definitely look like a guy who likes food. But not any kind of food. Though I like almost all edible things, I tend to stick to the “normal” side of the fence. So, no insects, eyeballs, testicles, hooves, horns, or even tongues for me. Anyway, I like burgers. If I could eat burgers all the time, I would but my doctor has put me on a lenient TRO on them. Anyway, when I was still in Davao, I would only eat McDonalds’ burgers. Back then, if I had the money I would go for Space Burger but they had expensive(since it’s not part of the meal) fries. When I moved here to Manila and I tried Burger King… well, let’s just say that I think twice buying a Mcdonalds’ burger now. Yeah, they’re only about P40-P50 more than a McDonalds but that P40-P50 could have been used to buy something else. Heck, I could settle for Burger Machine, and save a ton-o’-cash, but I don’t. I stubbornly only get Burger King. Grilled and the veggies they put feels like they can still be replanted and live. Pizza… only Yellow Cab. For now. I haven’t tried California Pizza Kitchen. I bet if I tried that, I probably forsake Yellow Cab. After careful calculations though(I pretended to push buttons on my calculator and nod with whatever was on the screen and made an an erroneous conclusion), I found out that Yellow Cab has the best square inch to price ratio. It sounds I am actually getting a cheaper pizza, but an 18in pizza for 2 people is not cheap. Sundae: Dairy Queen. Back in Davao, I didn’t like any kind of sundae. Even McFlurry. But now, after I eat at the heart clogging BK, I insist on buying the thigh enlarging DQ for desert. I could just go for the P15 sundae from MiniStop but they’re just not as satisfying. This is not much of a problem now. Since I have really costly clothes and hobbies(coming after this. You: GOOD GRIEF! There’s more?!?!), I tend to cut down on my food expenses but there’s still the occasional(like, once a week) P800 dinner. So why do I only eat the best out there? (Okay, I know the places I mentioned are just fastfood chains but I can’t really get into the bistro’s, resto’s, and other o’s out there as this might take a whole lot longer. Do you really want to read a another page worth of my food choices? Well, do you? Didn’t think so. Also, my first line said this would be easier to explain.) I guess it’s just the Remy in me. You know… Remy… from Ratatouie? I mean why eat less when you have the option to eat more and better… albiet more expensive.

Third(and last since this is getting awfully long. You: You think?!!): Hobbies. This, my fooli… uhm… patient readers, is the bane of my existence. I have poor judgement on the things I waste my money on. My first expensive hobby is reading. I love books. I would skip meals and sleep just to read and finish a book. Fortunately for me, Manila has a plethora of book shops. Unfortunately for me, a single book costs more than my day’s pay. Even if it’s softbound or paperback or reprints, these books don’t come cheap. I am sad to say to you great authors and publishers, I sometimes (more often than not) just rip you off and download digital versions of your books. But let me tell you, reading from a phone, laptop, psp, or any kind of PDF reading device is never and would never be as satisfying as reading from a thick, solid, paper book. The smell of new books and glue, or old books and dust have no fear of ever being becoming obsolete. That is unless they keep getting expensive in which case they should watch out. Next expensive hobby was gadgets in general. I wanted every new gizmo, dodad, and whachamacalits back then. Phones, PDA’s, laptops, netbooks, mp3 players, watches and all that crap. I wanted it. Bought my first MP3 player last 2005. It was P3000. I get only P500 per week for food and fare. Took me 3 months of occasional starving and brisk walking to save the money. That was not cheap for me but I had to have it. I never really got to buy anything else after that since I could not stop eating and walking only saved so much. Anyway, I have grown out of that now. I am happy with my gadgets and only seek to buy when it needs to be replaced or upgraded. The instinct to browse shops for gadgets is not gone though. Next hobby is photography. I have not yet succeeded in satisfying this thirst. I have camera’s to play with but… well, but. I love photography. It makes me happy way beyond anything else. Unfortunately, to play properly, I would need lots of stuff. Lenses, strobes, tripods, filters are just some of the stuff that eat through your savings. Though it’s not the equipment that makes a good photo, but it surely helps a lot. It’s the same with “Money can’t buy happiness”. Yeah, it doesn’t but it does a hell of a good job in making you think you are. So photography… *sigh*… I’m not giving up on you. Last and current obsession: Gundam Plastic Models. This might sound childish to you but guess what? An MG 1/100 Shin Musha: Sengoku no Jin is about P4600. Nothing childish about that. Besides, with that particular model, I highly advise against making an 8 year old build that model. Heck, I’d advise you to not let me build it. Kidding. Lemme at it. Gimme, gimme, gimme. Anyway, this hobby would be cheap if you just look to buy HG’s, cut, snap build and leave it in a corner. But for me, although I’m pretty much a neophyte in every aspect, that’s not the case. I want to sand left over gates. I want to remove seams. I want to prime. I want to paint. I want to top coat. I want to polish. I want to drill. I want to rivet. I want to scribe. These things will not be cheap, time- and money-wise. Painting alone will cost you at least P1000 for a mediocre job. But like any obsessive and eager neophyte, I want to get down and dirty(not really dirty… don’t like getting dirty…) with it. I want a P4500 air compressor, a P3500 airbrush, P5000 worth of paints and thinners, and P100000 worth of Gunpla’s to paint. A little bit overboard with the last one, but if anybody want’s to offer, I’ll gladly accept. So you see, my choices are not the best ones. It would have been fine if I had only one of these hobbies, but I have all 4. So why do I choose expensive hobbies? ‘Coz I find stamp and coin collection boring. I don’t feel the same satisfaction from making origami’s. Or probably because no one has piqued my interest in other hobbies.

So why do I choose to punish myself with wanting things that I know I can’t have? I don’t know, well exactly. Lot’s of reasons, I think. Maybe I’m just built that way. Or maybe I am actually adopted and my real parents are filty rich and I got the instinct to go for the best and expensive from thier genes? Dr. Evil Voice: “Riiight…” *Sigh* Why can’t I be happy with clothes that are literally off the rack and into the discount bin? Why can’t I eat “kanto” food like most people I see in the streets? And why can’t I be happy with just playing with straws, bottle caps, shadows, paper and pencil like when I was a kid? I need to get rich quick. Get a better job, win the lottery, or rob a bank… I don’t know. Anyway, go away now and leave me and my drool as we browse the net for more things we can’t have.

My mind has not stopped thinking and it has thought of a lot of things. Things I don’t normally think about, things I shouldn’t think about, things I thought I’ll never think about. All sorts of things. I can handle that though. My mind was never much of an idler (quite the opposite for my body though) so this much thinking doesn’t bother me. The stuff I think about, now that bothers me. There are just too much things that I cannot really understand. Somethings I understand, but don’t make sense. There are also things that I understand and makes sense but I don’t want to accept. What I like about my brain is that it can think of a lot of things at the same time and that it can think of the most impossible scenarios (read: paranoia). Apparently, it’s what I don’t like about it either. I have been pushing it to run at full power, all the time. What I’ve neglected to do was to train it to stop. Now, my mind keeps racing… thinking of the scariest and most unnerving of thoughts. Even if I am very sleepy, I have a hard time falling asleep. Every time my body relaxes, my mind takes it as a sign to think harder. If I do fall asleep and I was woken up by a noise or shake, instead of being groggy, my mind is on full alert and begins to bombard my consciousness with thoughts so shaking that I can’t sleep anymore. This is sort of a bad thing. A really bad thing. Why? Well…

My heart has not felt this many emotions in such a short span of time. One moment, I am doing fine and in just a blink of an eye, I feel so depressed that nothing seems to be going right but just as quickly, I feel normal again (well, as normal as my mind would permit). There’s the anger that builds up then suddenly explodes. When it’s done exploding, it then implodes to depression. Then there’s this weird determination that tells me that I can do this and that nothing will stop me from living my best. Then when I sit down and think, I break down and all hope is lost. My heart beats a slow yet strong beat. Then it beats a fast, weak, almost faltering beat. Even if all I did that day was to sit down and watch T.V., after all the ups and downs my heart goes through, I still feel like I’ve mined 50 tons of ore using a plastic spoon.

That’s why it’s a bad thing that my brain does not stop thinking. Because even if I want, nay, need to sleep, I can’t because my mind just won’t let me. I am on the brink of a nervous breakdown and complete physical exhaustion. My mind thinks of things that makes my heart beat like crazy. Then my heart exhausts my body, urging it to sleep but my mind revs up it’s engines and thoughts pour into my head. If I do manage to fall asleep, it only means that I will have enough physical energy to power my brain for another bout of nerve wrecking consciousness. I probably need just one more strand of hair to fall on the burden I carry to kill me. However, even if I do looked stressed or if I feel tired…

What’s weird though is that I don’t think I will die just yet. Even if I really, really want all this pain and suffering to stop, I still think and feel that there is still something worth living for. Even if a whole wig or a basket of toupees will fall on my burden, there’s still something there that keeps me going. A little voice when I am about to fall asleep that tells me that it’s okay. The consoling warmth that embraces me when I wake up. The small things that interrupt my busy, boring day that give me energy to keep going. The touch of reality that tells me that everything is still alright. These are some of the things that fuel my day. Even if I look as haggard as the Egyptians who built the pyramids, I still keep going.

So, if people ask me why I look tired… well, it’s because I am. I haven’t slept and even if I had, I am sure to be tired the next day anyway. But it doesn’t matter. Nope, it doesn’t matter if I look tired or feel tired. As long as I have the little voice or the warm embrace, I know that I will make it through the day.

Flaircandy : http://www.flaircandy.com

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Patay Gutom : http://www.pataygutom.com

The Extraordinary Kiddo : http://www.bryankarl.net

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Lakwatsero: http://travel.batangyagit.com

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RP2010 : http://www.rp2010.com

Thanks to Absolute Traders, Business Summaries, Blog4Reviews.com, Fitness Advantage Club, Events and Corporate Video, Events at Work, Dominguez Marketing Communications, Red Mobile, Budget hotel in Makati, Lucio C. Tan Group of Companies, and My Brute Cheats.