Category Archives: gibberish

Epiphanies that Saved My Sanity

Spend your most precious resource sensibly.

It’s a bit odd that most of us are obsessed with how to make and spend money fast, easy and shrewdly. What most of us overlook is that money isn’t the most valuable resource that we need to guard — it’s actually time. Money can be made, spent and regained. Time, on the other hand, is more than scarce — it’s non-renewable. This moment right now — yes, now, when you’re reading my post — you have no other choice but to expend it at this instant. If you think about it, you can never save or stock time like you do with money & other necessities; what you can learn to do instead is how to invest time in only the best ventures. Continue reading Epiphanies that Saved My Sanity

And then, you realize what it means to grow up.

Getting bigger is more than just fitting into your older siblings’ clothes.

It’s more than finally getting the freedom to stay out as late as you want.

It’s realizing that the world is vast, and yet we’re closer to each other than you might think.

It’s knowing that no matter how much space you take up, there’s always room for improvement.

It’s realizing that at the end, all you really need, all you really wanted in life, was there right at the start, right at the moment you were born — people who are simply happy that you came into this world.

While in limbo, write.

(Mauuna na ang side — It must be said that these emo attacks may be actually good for something. The long-dormant, theatrical writer in me is having a feast day; it has been yearning to be indulged, feeling neglected since the Pauliworld days.)

A dark cloud has been hanging over my head since I walked into the office this morning. Yes, it was another Monday; no surprise that I wasn’t turning cartwheels. But this particular morning has been, well, depressing. I could not put my finger on any particular reason — which scares me.

They’re probably going to kill me for calling them this, but I miss having friends around who are as messed up as me. It’s because when I see them conquer the world each day as if it was nothing, it gives me hope. That I can be just as strong. That I can grow even just half the backbone that they have.

Taong mahal mo, o taong mahal ka?

[cue music]

Are you gonna stay with the one who loves you
Or are you goin’ back to the one you love?

Catching the ~45-minute ride from the office to the city gives you a lot of time to stare off and reminisce (and to try not looking at the guy dozing off across from you in the train). The other day, I got to think of one of our favorite ways to kill time during GS/HS — taking turns to pose and answer this-or-that questions to amuse our juvenile selves. The question, ‘Taong mahal mo, o taong mahal ka?’ was right up there with ‘Walang kamay o walang paa?’ and my favorite, ‘Tadtad ng maliliit na tagyawat, o isang malaking tagyawat sa ilong?’. You know, matters of life and death.

Back then, my answer would always be delivered consistently and with 100% confidence — taong mahal ko, siyempre. I remember being baffled why others would think of choosing otherwise, yet they seemed to be so sure as well.

But fast-forward to a few years ahead, I find that whenever I try to revisit the question, I don’t blurt out my standard answer as fast as before. The confidence falters. When asked during different points of my life, sometimes the answer is even different. You start to consider factors that you would not have even thought about when you were a kid. You start to think about the takeaways from the relationship rant sessions with your (mostly drunk-)friends/loved ones. I guess you can only be sure of something when you’re actually in the moment. Not doing guesswork before, not reminiscing after, but only during the moment.

Another interesting thing to note is that years after, after supposedly going through all those life experiences that are supposed to make your earthly wisdom richer, we still find ourselves asking the same ‘juvenile’ questions. Yup, all that time and we haven’t even figured out the answer yet (and by we, I mean me).

It’s probably a good thing that all train rides must come to an end — attempts to go existential are rudely (and are gladly!) interrupted and you find yourself just going along with the flow. As things should be.

Random is a beautiful word, isn’t it?

There’s a 99% chance that it’s just hormones, but today I found myself missing how random my days* used to be. It’s amazing to be independent, but sometimes you realize that having total control of your life doesn’t live up to the hype all the time. It actually baffles me as to why I’m whining — I can distinctly remember moments in my life when I wished the world would stop spinning.

I know it’s not possible to have an adventure every single day, but I still find myself wishing it was so. If anybody has figured out how to make that work, please please please let me know. 🙂

* I wanted to say ‘how random my life used to be’, but then again it sounded like something out of a Twilight emo monologue. =P

The Good Fight

We are an army. We outnumber them but ironically, this is the fact that works against us and pits us against each other. Yes ladies, the official ratio as of current is 105 girls to 100 guys. It doesn’t look so bad, but this is without filtering out the gay and the clergy. The sooner you get over the fact, the better.

Here we are, armed with all the feel-good books and talk shows you can find for our growing market share. I can’t remember when I started the hunt for good chick-lit/old-maid fiction, one that will console me for what seems to be inevitable. I remember being pissed off at ones that had a good premise but sold-out in the end when the heroine magically finds the ever-elusive perfect guy that will love her unconditionally. Bah, humbug.

Here we are ladies, putting up the good fight. Believing that if we hold out, we will sooner or later meet the one who was worth the wait. This is while also believing that if we don’t find him, we’ll be okay because we were freaking awesome to begin with. Sometimes, I can’t help but wonder what’s worse — chasing a futile hope or catching yourself in a self-induced delusion.

And as always, this shall end as unresolved. Will get back to you after 50 years. Or 2012. Whichever comes last.