Saturday, December 1, 2007

Chapter 4.0 - Total Imperfection

How to begin? Where to begin? When the mind is not in total harmony with the heart, there are a lot of crazy things can go on. Endless ramblings, senseless nagging, no sense of direction to where and when it will stop. Lets just begin where the emotion is totally strong now, and from time to time, will jump from one topic to the other. Try to catch up.

What is bad about a person who is a total observant and thinker, one notices everything and one thinks why is it like that? As an observant, one can base it on patterns. Basing it on the past experiences and gather the data and give an educated guess on what the hell is happening in the universe. So what has happened and has been observed? When you try to make it perfect for someone, you always tend to fail. You plan everything, but the plan doesn't go out too well. Okay, not too well is not the term, a disaster. I try so hard to make everything perfect for your special someone and yet it ends up in failure. At first really i didn't care. Nobody is perfect right? But when something is becoming to repetitive, then there is something really wrong with you. A friend of mine told me that if you have noticed that you are going in circles and you are not doing anything about it, well...YOU MUST DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT. Its like, you know that there is something wrong and you are not doing anything about it. What will happen if you are not doing anything about it? Recently, i just noticed that I may be a total failure. Well not totally but to some extent, there is always something that i can not do right. In the phrase of the Filipinos, "hari ng sablay." No matter how hard i try to make a day perfect, no matter how hard i try to please someone, at one point or another will end up in a failure. I don't know, maybe i was born with the mark of "LOSER" or "TOTAL ASS FAILURE" on my forehead. I don't know if I did anything right in my life.

Hi! My name is Anonymous, and I'm a keen observer

Sunday, November 11, 2007

Chapter 3.0: Invisible

I feel for A (Anonymous). Imagine living life as if you're not there--distant to your own world, stranger to your own circle. I bet he wishes to shout, but what for? Surely people will hear him, but will anyone bother to ask why? In situations such as his, would you rather remain invisible or be seen but misunderstood?

I'm no mere observer to this life of his as such stories are typical monologues over coffee. I'm not complaining. I willfully offer an ear as a friend who also needs to release her own steam through venting unsolicited advice which I know will be useless in a minute or so. When I hear of such stories, I can't help but ponder on my own life--Is life really that complicated?

My issues are the total opposite. I need not shout for people to listen. More often that not, people quote me for something i have not even uttered. Blessed? Not quite. Rather than being invisible, people have chosen to depict my life the way they wish for it to be. Truth is of no essence in my world. There are numerous moments wherein I wish to retreat--to be able to spend a day in a bubble--free of everyone's scrutiny.

Life's brilliant in my spectrum, or so they say. Extravagance is ordinary. What's next? I aim for the normality that every citizen fails to cherish. I wish to enjoy loneliness and breathe every moment of its sanctity. I wish to wallow on sadness without anyone pushing to entertain me.

Wake up. This is my typical day.

So today, I imagine walking to work; appreciating the warmth of the morning sun on my face while sipping my foamy latte. I'm greeted with piles of paperwork waiting to be noticed, already dusting in history. Then again, this is what i imagine. In truth, I'm driven to work, greeted by my own personal assistant, with a tall Starbucks Mochaccino waiting on my desk. Work? Not for me. I'm successful that way--work is done for me. I'm paid to say 'Yes, No, Perhaps' and to give my signature.

Perfect life? You decide.

-Posh Wanderer

Sunday, November 4, 2007

Chapter 2.1: Snakes and Ladders

Snakes and ladders, or Chutes and ladders, is a classic children's board game.[1] It is played between 2 or more players on a playing board with numbered grid squares. On certain squares on the grid are drawn a number of "ladders" connecting two squares together, and a number of "snakes" or "chutes" also connecting squares together.

Each player starts with a token in the starting square (usually the "1" grid square in the bottom left corner, or simply, the imaginary space beside the "1" grid square) and takes turns to roll a single die to move the token by the number of squares indicated by the die roll, following a fixed route marked on the gameboard which usually follows a boustrophedon track from the bottom to the top of the playing area, passing once through every square. If, on completion of this move, they land on the lower-numbered end of the squares with a "ladder", they can move their token up to the higher-numbered square (known as "climbing the ladder"). If they land on the higher-numbered square of a pair with a "chute" (or snake), they must move their token down to the lower-numbered square (known as "sliding down the chute/snake").

Its simplicity and the see-sawing nature of the contest make it popular with younger children, but the lack of any skill component in the game makes it less appealing for older players.


its so funny when you are too observant and just happen to base your patterns in life to certain material things on earth. for example, the ups and downs of life with a wheel. or the high and lows of your love affair with snakes and ladders. you roll the die and see where it takes you, thats the risk of the journey. round and round it goes, where it stops nobody knows. land on a ladder square, you get to skip a few squares. good signs. land on a snake square, you fall back a few squares back. bad times. you just foul up just by making one freakin wrong move, then you fall down. when will it ever end? when will you reach the top? the 100th square and obtain your prize?


Chapter 2.0: Always Misunderstood

People wonder why he is quiet. Some of them get irritated or insulted when he speaks. To his friends, his simple hirits has the tendency of back firing. So where is his stand? I dont know either. For years he has suppressed his thoughts and voice because he thought that it was the right thing. "Better keep you mouth shut than hurting anyone." True. But after careful thinking, that is not who he is. The real person that he is, is someone that is very loud and noisy but with a load of fun (well, thats what i think he is). But how can he be himself without hurting anyone? specially that special someone.

Its hard to keep your mouth shut and be yourself at the same time. You just have to be careful in what you say and all, and pray on the other end that the person you are talking to understands what you are trying to say. but what if he/she doesnt. all hell breaks loose. you put your best foot forward and yet you fail. sometimes that giving up comes to your mind but you just cant give up. after all the pain and suffering you have been through, youre just going to give up just like that? "it aint over till the fat lady sings."

When the mind is filled with thoughts and is already put down into words, there is nothing else to do but shut down. Words has been laid out here and yet the mind is constantly running, hoping that there would be an off switch to turn that freakin brain from thinking. need to.


Friday, October 26, 2007

Chapter 1.1: The Rose Thorn Among the Thorns

'And who do we have here this evening?' It's the red carpet of haute couture. Where else can you appreciate the season's new fashion and trends if not on the most awaited event of the quarter? The White Masquerade. PW was nice enough to grace us with her presence. My creme brulee of a date; too delicate to tease yet evasive when tempted. It's always better to get to her good side. Thus, our long standing friendship. Sharing the likes of salivating over men who are worthy of our glance, appreciating the hip-stride ratio as a result of stiletto height, and just retreating to retail therapy to compensate the stresses brought about by city pollution, PW and I surely have a strong foundation.
This night was spent adding to the next day's shopping list and my venting about a useless date the night before. Where have the good guys gone? Rarely do I encouter men who have the discipline to maintain a strict schedule; time for work, fun, and self-improvement. So last night I was granted my wish of such a date. Call me pathetic, but this lad realized my existence through the help of an online network. Honesty be the point, I made sure flirting was the name of the game. Let's just go straight to business. We exchanged interesting ideas on the day's events and irrelevant happenings, which led to an invitation for late dinner the next evening (last night). Physically, he lived up to his self description: sporty physique, corporate demeanor, and strike-me-to-the-bones-stare. With no uttered words, I was head over heels. But hold your horses dear, this might be the start of something. What that something is, let's just say it's to be determined--or so i thought.
As it turns out, my knight in silver-plated armor is too perfect to be real. I already had supper so I ordered a latte, while he ordered a Chicken Ceasar Salad with Chai Tea. I ran a few extra miles on the treadmill that afternoon to allot the extra calories for an evening treat. Ok. I"m trying to be healthy and fit, so cut me some slack. And I thought I was vain? My date piece by piece picked off the shavings of Reggiano Cheese and scraped off the dressing from every lettuce leaf. Babe, you should have just ordered plain greens--drizzled with fresh water to prevent them from wilting--if you wish!
These were already signs sent from the Heavens. In as much as I love romance and intimacy, there is not a chance in my seven cat lives will I give up my foodasmic pleasures. But then again, I'm still a civilized love-searching soul, so I managed to keep civil by trying to maintain my interest in the conversation. My kind has never acquired the talent of pretending, so I presume he noticed my disinterest long before we said our goodbyes... the end of which he said: "Oh, don't get me wrong. It's just that I love women.."
C'mon dude...what are you doing here then?
tata for now,
Haute Dude

Chapter 1.0: The Untruth of My Character

Yet another day, repressed in the existence of this culturally restrained metropolis. I'm an observer of my own character--resisting the expectations of what a twenty six year old wandered ought to be. Who can blame me? There is an ocean of opportunities awaiting my attention and yet I fail to focus. It's true what parents used to say--Life is easier when there is a scarcity of choices. Graduation from a prominent university once determined ones political, social and economic fate. Today, a graduation is just an excuse to go up that platform and get your photograph taken by a self-acclaimed professional. Ok. I shall at least give some credit to the long hours I've spent perfecting the art of pretending to be preoccupied with desires for scholar maturity. I choose to assert that time and effort were not wasted, disregarding the fact that I am still a frustrated writer and activist, feeding on the wealth of my sociopath-etic, workaholic parents.

I really am in no place to complain. Life's been ecstatically comfortable. I've maximized my living capacity in extracting the brilliance of this me-centered world; even trying my utmost ambition to diversify logical thinking into being one with reason.

How IS the world out there? Today, I've managed to isolate myself from the complexities of the dishonest cosmopolitan. Pretense can be spiritually draining. Need I suck up to the sweetness of a Martini when all I really fancy is an ice cold bottle of liquified Barley (beer)? When are friends considered colleagues, acquaintances or BFFs?

This is the Dog-Eat-Dog-World that I am accustomed to inhabiting. To me, it's the life i choose to partake in even when the truth is only real when I'm alone. I've successfully enlived this society-accepted facade--choosing to be the dog that bites. But hey! This is a favor to my circle. Why? There is no 'life' to them unless I bite.

This is your peephole into my life. The rest of the adventure awaits..


Posh Wanderer