Random Thoughts on a Thursday Morning

The only reason why I am staying in this place is the fact that my work is here and it is where I am stationed for 12 months. Other than that, there is nothing else that is holding my presence in this not-really-my-idea-of-metropolitan-living city. It sure is livable with all its perks (every place has its own advantage) but I just can’t get my piece of happiness in every single day that I spend here. Misery is slowly eating me alive and the main culprit is Mr. Lonely.

So what transpired months ago that brought my presence in this place? The first thing that I could remember is that I decided to grab the first job that would give me a five-day work a week in the normal working hours (immediately disqualifying call centers and that sort of job) after having been unemployed for two months. I sporadically gave out my resume for every other hiring I could find in the internet during that time-a very intense gesture of desperation on my part to find work and end my 60-day monetary dearth. There was this one job that really made its way into my prayer list for a couple of nights after having seen the conditions and the possible financial remuneration that may be accorded to me. Yes I got that job.

Happy? Well, in time I learned this lesson the hard way: “Be careful what you wish and pray for or you might stumble upon Mr. Lonely with a scythe.” Got that?

Pouting alone.

When I was in grade school, I remember there was this game me and my friends used to play during recess time. "Lady Look" I think was the name of the game but I am not exactly sure if it was really called that [eons ago]. The game usually starts with two teams about three or four steps away, having the same number of girls facing away from each other. There is this moderator who, apart from acting as the host (like in a competition), gives the signals and acts as a referee who checks if the teams are playing by the rules and gives the final decision of who wins a round. It's a pretty complicated game for kids our age (maybe 7 or 8) but when you get the hang of it, it's actually pretty enjoyable. The object is that you have to guess the person behind your back as fast as you can when the moderator calls your number as the other members face you and help you guessing without speaking a word. There are of course other things in that game but it isn't actually what I would like to talk about here. It just came into my mind as I was looking at the people in my immediate surroundings..."What would they be like if they line up like what we do and pose? Who's got the look?" (See how absurd my thoughts could possibly get?)

People who takes advantage of other people’s lack of discernment and proper education makes me think of hell. If someone would ask me why, the only simple answer I could give them is another question-“Is there any other place where people like that (colloquially translated as users) deserve a VIP reservation?”

In the issue of “Pacquiao’s fight for Congress”, I say to the administration “Go to hell!” To the person used as the object of the action, “Go and box!”

“Life is a box of chocolates.” - I remember quite exactly how I got this line from a movie. When you look closely, the line tells a lot of different things. It explains two contrasting mindsets. It gives a glimpse of which between these two extreme viewpoints of life a person would likely favor: pessimism or optimism. Just by simply asking someone what this line means to him, a great deal about what he’s made of is revealed. This is the reason why I revere long conversations with discussions on his stance for a particular idea because it can make or unmake a person’s impression. It is with this impression that the appropriate level of respect a person deserves should be determined. For each and every citizen to be like that is, of course, utopian.

To talk about other people and their lives are not merely the business of housewives when they get together during the afternoon siesta. Although stereotyped to them, any single human being, even children, is capable of doing such an act.

I used to believe that the degree of its severity and the tendencies to weave stories beyond the real facts seems directly proportional to the age of the people making such observations. I also used to believe that the likelihood of such tendencies is more prevalent to the female species than its male counterpart. Yet, as you live your life longer, you get to realize that it isn’t always the case because you get to meet a lot of people, one of which might be debunking your beliefs. In other words, you get to meet older men who are more excruciating story tellers such that what they tell are exceedingly damaging to the subject of interest.

Life is indeed full of surprises and a learning experience all throughout!