Wise Up!

I started the week with a heated discussion on whether DNA is designed by intelligent beings that are just one step up a chain of intelligent beings. Along the way we talked about ultra-microscopic universes in the human stomach populated by less-intelligent agnostics wondering if they are not alone, the Matrix trilogy, and the infinite void where our own universe expands. To me things are not as black and white as they seem to my friend who looked seriously disturbed by the idea that believers are so sure about the existence of god – people who have been atheists since birth are essentially martians. Illustrating faith was not easier than playing the religious skeptic with my Christian ex-girlfriend, who reveled in persecuting those who lack a spiritual life. At the end of the week, I saw a human form who, while capable of managing a complex system of supercomputers, had been relegated to pragmatic routines.

My friends are all about consistency. Most of them. It’s a wonder they can put up with me and my antics after they have made it official that I am a walking oxymoron. When I decide to put off the things I need to do, I sincerely think I shouldn’t. Now I am convinced to do one thing; later I do the opposite. Despite all of that, one can easily see that I have a strong sense of responsibility. Believe it or not, I stick to the plan. My friends say so.

Life is just a few decades. And I’m not planning to be a politician.

Abracadabra

Besides the fact that I work two shifts, I have practically shunned any form of recreation. I guess that makes me a dull boy. 6:15, I get up, take a shower, have breakfast, commute to work, work, work, work, work, snore. Now I understand what it means to be slow. Twice I have to end my day bitching about why a crazy number of words aren’t spelled phonetically. I wasn’t one of those sharp kids, to begin with.

I’ve started to wonder what all the hard work will bring me. Should I one day settle down, I will with the likes of Adriana Lima. I’ll probably need the money to spend on my Galatea. A fantasy that’s downright immature. Truth is I’m never gonna get a break from having to do some of the things I will not learn to like. I can carry this on for years until I learn to come up with more realistic goals.

Good thing I am not the type who completely believes in patterns. I may look like a risk-conscious wuss, but I don’t rule out the existence of extraterrestrials.

A Weekend Whim

It was four in the afternoon when I got up – I haven’t stayed in bed past midday for quite a while.

Much as I enjoy the opportunities brought about by hard work and ambition, I’m glad I’ve spent my day doing things that are not necessarily productive. No need to contemplate. I have saved so much in so little time. The road to financial well-being will soon be in sight. I’m not being cocky. Making a small fortune is quite a task. Time is the single thing that I can spend carelessly. I don’t want to sound ungrateful either. For over a month now, I’ve been working seven days a week – this specialized employment program does temper bad spending habits. Today I should be at work, but there’s a storm outside. Well, things can get out of hand anytime whether or not we anticipate forecasts. Plus, I’ve caught a cold. Taking advantage of the weekend is not bad; it plays an important role in keeping up the grind. Besides, I haven’t called in sick to work since the last hangover over thirty days ago. If I stay unlucky next week, I will push myself harder. Suppose I were to work seven days a week all year round. With a persevering spirit, one is ought to reap the rewards in time.

No Action Taken

There are ideas that I seize on a whim, believe in without much fuss, and take action on after realizing the enormities they bring. I don’t have a sophisticated system that examines and weighs every idea I come across; most of my ponderings are often prompted by results that fall short of expectations – or actions that I know are downright pernicious – in pursuit of understanding my decisions better. When I missed a final exam in university after setting the alarm clock fifteen minutes before the exam would start and thinking that I would make it in time. When I failed to keep up a good impression at work after getting wasted at a party and making a fool of myself in front of less-than-cordial colleagues. When I felt like saying I wanted to get married to my girlfriend and winced at the idea after having a careful discussion about her and my plans. When I surrendered the aspirations I kept dallying with after deciding to run away from home and reject help from people who were concerned. One might observe that getting involved in activities that I show little interest in oftentimes leads me to seeing ideas I may never hold in high esteem in a good light. There are things that I seem to believe in and abhor at the same time. It is a mechanism to avoid exhibiting violent antipathy – or going nuts.

Or there are lessons that I simply never learn.

Two-Face is Guilty of Bad Faith

To act carelessly while everyone else is a witness is something only rock stars can afford to do. When freedom does not enable us to do the craziest things, we learn the ways of the world by heart and go from strength to strength. We understand that we create a ripple of opportunities any time. We accept those which are favorable. It doesn’t take a genius to be able to chart consequence trees for every action we take. Although we remain unprepared for the unknown, there are a lot of things that we can predict. We know what would happen if we did something against the law. We know what to do to safeguard our plans. We know.

Does it require some skill to be conscious of danger while one is intoxicated? I often fail to realize the magnitude of danger when drunk and depart from the impression I have made in a specified group. There is a group of people who we hide our personal convictions and stupid ideas from and maintain good working relationships with. They sense the ambiguity of our character but opt to trust us anyway – up to the time we run into them in a club and barrage them with insulting, albeit honest, comments.

My circumstance is not different from everyone else’s, and I have considered myself powerless since the time I chose an employment opportunity that exacts a change in the way I see things. This is how we bide our time. I have learned to secrete all the irrelevant ideas in the deepest recesses of my system while at work. This exercise has in turn taught me to cease calling forth the ideas I value most and submit to those I care little for. I have created two disparate realities. One will lead to the life I’ve dreamed of. And the other will allow me to accept the point of no return.

Good Luck

I know one who is privy to blatant stupidity, and he believes in tact and making the right choices. It is in his best interest to understand the needs of the people around him and to respond if necessary. He went out last week clubbing without cash or a few coins – how could he say no to his best buddies who were there when his beer budget was compromised? He had to call in sick to work twice in a row when out-of-work but wealthy friends invited him to relax and unwind. He has learned how to appreciate the risks involved in associating with others. Unanticipated absence was clearly a plausible idea especially after a week of sick leave due to pneumonia. He was anxious to get back to work even though the doctor had recommended otherwise. He used to believe that taking time off was one symptom of congenital laziness; now counseling at work is not a bad idea. No, he does not enjoy being in the limelight, and he avoids bad press when he sees one coming. He dropped by at the office even when he had called in sick and studied the compounding workload. He was a ghastly sight, and his supervisor was eager to show concern. Why not alleviate the distress of the hardworking? At times he takes himself too seriously and succeeds in looking zealous to some. And he does so effectively when the need arises.

Dealing with Diarrhea

Friday night, and I’m glad I was able to talk myself out of a party. A place to stretch out is what I need most now. For weeks Friday has become synonymous with stamina – machismo in its truest form. It’s a shame I’ve decided not to push myself to the limit tonight. I’m going to lose some serious bragging rights. To think that I got owned by a stomachache. Few minutes ago a friend dropped by, and a bottle of Gatorade was the perfect prop.

(The next paragraphs are written two days later.)

Thinking of alcohol-related illnesses didn’t help much. I have no trouble staying at home while everyone else is partying, but last Friday I ended up playing Fake Plastic Trees – the room seemed depressing thereafter. I should have planned my way out carefully. Radiohead on Friday night was a wrong turn.

I have made a promise that I’m going to cut off ties with people who don’t help me save. Now’s the time to be selfish after months of being quite obliging. A year ago I would easily change my number, but now I opt for an intricate plan, having established rapport with officemates and newfound friends. Whereas my friends call it sponging off, I’ll have to call it partial openhandedness. I’ll just have to be close when unnecessary spending calls – especially on Friday nights.

It has started last Friday. Recently I’ve been a sucker for Mexican food. While my friends had nachos, I insisted on having quesadilla. It had always been pizza and beer, but cheeze and onions looked seducing. The experience was nothing ordinary – even when the pie that was served was quite different from the picture on the menu. It felt like some kind of dare. I couldn’t have regretted paying for the pies that I devoured. With much alcohol, I was proud I came back home without taking out my wallet. Saturday night was a similar story – in fact, a girl paid for my beer.

Until now I can feel the heaven’s wrath every time I go to the toilet.

Frivolities

One good thing about growing up on the streets is learning to act on pressing matters quite early in life. Last week I decided to go to the movies before I would regret not watching Transformers 2. I had spent so much earlier in the week that a friend had to loan me enough cash to get by until the next payday. I knew he would forgive me for another reckless act, having been unable to watch the last Terminator on the big screen. On my way to the movie house appeared before me a thin boy carrying an infant just as shabby as he was. Like a reflex I turned back. Away from a city scene that has become trite. I enjoyed the movie so much more than I had expected.

This morning I think I saw the boy with the baby. One scrappy existence tailing moving figures. I watched until it stopped. After receiving its prize.

I thought of compassion. I certainly didn’t lack compassion. Something on the streets has to live off the moving figures. I wondered whether he had come upon how I saw him. I bet he sees the world in a simpler way. And he acts on his feelings fast and decisively. I felt a desire to help, but acted otherwise. As much as I want to live a life as simple as he does, I have learned to accept a more popular way of living.

It sure is taking me a great deal of time to accept how each day passes by. I used to care about results so much. After a series of plan B’s, I decided to have an entirely different way of seeing things: the journey matters. Failure is hard work that has yet to pay off. There isn’t a right age to build oneself. Take time to laugh. Take time to play.

To Aphrodite

Just when I had the time to put my thoughts into words once a week, all the extra work – and the play that went together with it– seemed to have robbed me of my longing for solitude. Not quite an excuse. I had made a promise to a friend to write down ideas as a birthday gift for a change. A letter, a special one. In case I couldn’t muster the strength to sit down and think, I sent her a paperback of one of Malcolm Gladwell’s books – most likely, The Tipping Point. She replied with resentment. That she wanted that one book by a female author wasn’t easy to guess. By Margaret Atwood. In verbatim she said, I don’t need self-help books. It read like a curse.

Over a hundred days have passed and now choosing a birthday card reminds me of that promise. I’ve just decided to not send an officemate any form of birthday greeting. It gives me some sense of justice. His disappointment will be my punishment.

What happened in the past weeks is a testament that I’ve grown quite fond of the people around me. I keep telling myself that compromise is the best way to survive in a dreaded workplace. I must admit that I’ve learned to be selfless in the commonest way. When one hasn’t enough time to say no to unwanted invitations, one can end up having fun. I’ve learned to spend on things that I sincerely don’t care about. That is how I see it now. That might not be how it actually was.

I don’t like playing games. Perhaps not as much as just having fun – or being completely goofy. And when I thought my games had gained momentum, I wound up with a long distance, quite serious relationship. I’ve never been a fan of that kind of relationship either, but I’m not willing to let go. I guess I was completely goofy after all. I used to tell myself it’s not good to get distracted while trying to save; I’ve chosen to be distracted nonetheless. I wish I could afford to surprise her like a knight-in-shining-armor.

Or that she would come down from the heavens once again.

Side Effects Associated with Attempting to Live a Customized Life

This one’s mine.

I’ve wanted to be as hands-on as possible at the expense of working in a team. I’m having a hard time delegating. What I’m concerned about is not much how to feel good about letting others do their parts – it’s quite a feat to make sense of every bit of information completely unassisted even if one has the optimum resources to acquire information in a small amount of time. I have this thinking that I can have a better look at the bigger picture through a magnifying glass. I am not good at coming to grips with novel ideas. Under deadline pressure I make decisions based on what little I’ve grasped, and I guess I’m getting proficient in making good use of the few things I’ve learned. When the job is done, I take time to study, remedying what I thought I understood.

I find myself fussing over what I realize in the end to be unimportant even with little time I have in between making a living and rushing to live a full life. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I think the trend now is to learn how to make one’s comprehension foolproof. Most of my decisions are products of snap judgment, but there are numerous things that I spend time reflecting on. It’s a slow process. When I give people things to work on, I end up doing the same things – those that caught my attention – by myself. I believe that I will understand things better if I do the reading myself. The problem is not how many books I will have appreciated when something unfortunate comes – say, death. It’s quite misplaced to blame one’s success or the lack of it on a series of blinking. There is much more that you and I don’t understand – and will not be able to. I don’t plan to concoct a unified yaddayadda, but I’ve wanted to fashion something novel out of the things that I’ve gathered.