Friday, February 26, 2010

When The Best Coaches Hit The Benches



I've never been good in any form of sports. I was the weird kid who played alone, imagining all sorts of things. One of the earliest memories I have of my childhood was playing with this mound of sand in front of our then apartment. I was alone. I was happy being alone with my thoughts.

Perhaps one of the oddities of being a kid like me was that all my thoughts were in English. It was so natural to me. I was hooked on Sesame Street. Maybe that was why no one would play with me. Maybe I gave them a look that says, how come you seem to have thoughts so different from mine? At that age I knew I was different and I wasn't meant to conform.

I wouldn't consider myself an introvert. Yes I do like to work independently and yes I do get issues when I work with a group (who, often than not, I end up owning). I'm not the type who would eventually author a self-help book.

I always thought that I don't really need anyone to validate me. Never expected anyone to give me a hand when I obviously needed one. I was happy being ignored. I was happy being who I am. Happy watching people watch in (what I think is) amazement at how I live my life and how it seems so easy for me to dispense advice on what to do for every situation. I always thought I was a natural leader. You know, the one people run to. The one who will point the way. To some extent, I think I played that role quite well. People see me as an opinion leader, someone whose words matter. 

Funny how things change. The guy who didn't need validation feels like giving in to seemingly mundane challenges, pointless heartaches and vague feelings of sadness. I don't know. It just creeps in. It's not like a big yellow bus.

I'm happy I made some people happy. That's one thing I think I do well. I always know what to say, what to do so that I get the reaction I wanted. 

Now in times like this, when the bringer of fire feels extinguished, who to go to? It's not easy feeling alone in a roomful of people. It's not easy feeling deprived when so much has been given already. It's not easy feeling like you've been reduced to something you know you're not - a pathetic, needy guy. 

I'm not baring my soul, because I think there is no soul here to begin with.

I'm not emo. I'm just sad. Generally sad. Sad in general over general things. Sad over silly things. Maybe it's because of every bad thing that happened this week. Maybe it's because of I'm just crazy. 

I guess this is what happens when you didn't get a simple public "thank you" from one person who's not even supposed to have a hold on you. Surprise, coach. Bet you didn't expect that.

Monday, February 22, 2010

Rings and Strings


Image taken from Wikipedia.org. Thanks Wiki!

Marilyn sang about it, Nicole remade it, DiCaprio had a movie about it, and De Beers had an empire made of it. Yes folks, diamonds.

The ever-reliable Wikipedia defines it as 
an allotrope of carbon, where the carbon atoms are arranged in a variation of theface-centered cubic crystal structure called a diamond lattice. Diamond is less stable than graphite, but the conversion rate from diamond to graphite is negligible atambient conditions. Diamond is renowned as a material with superlative physical qualities, most of which originate from the strong covalent bonding between its atoms. In particular, diamond has the highest hardness and thermal conductivity of any bulk material. Those properties determine the major industrial application of diamond in cutting and polishing tools.
Admit it, you went past that elaborate yet accurate definition. To most people diamonds symbolize strength, purity, and unimaginable value. Thus it has become almost a rule that to prove to someone that this is it, I'm in it for the long run, you gotta give the big clear rock. I remember a friend who absolutely (though she did it in so many words) refused to let her boyfriend pop the question because it just HAD to be a diamond ring. I was like, poor guy. So in-love and in a few months, will be so broke. Well he bought one eventually and now they're married.

These kind of stories kinda makes one wonder, why is it that we have to always have to prove how we felt about someone? Has this world been so saturated with lies and deceit that positive fluffy feelings like love is met with doubt and suspicion? I mean think about it. Your never believed your high school crush feels the same way unless it came directly from him/her. You're a girl who had a couple of suitors but you never believed they loved you until they took you out on that cheesy burger joint at the corner of Young and Tacky. You're a guy who finally snagged a date with your dream girl and yet at the back of your mind you say, "She's just being kind. I'll know she really likes me if I get a kiss later".

What is it about love that needs to be proven? You tell someone you love them. Plain and simple. Sometimes you don't even want to be loved in return. You just wanna say it. Make them feel it. You get into a relationship with someone and you've been together for a while and yet it gets to a point that you have to prove that the love is still there. Even the geriatrics renew their vows after half a century of marriage. For what? To prove to the world that hey, we still got it!

After all that I'm still confused. Why do we have to prove that we love someone? Why do we have to prove that love exists? We've all been there.


Sunday, February 21, 2010

What's wrong with this picture?

Living in Manila my entire life has granted me with a lot of time to really explore the sights and sounds associated with city living. I've never experienced living in both provinces where my parents came from except for the occasional vacation. Given that, I never really learned how to plant anything, raise any farm animal, milk a cow, climb coconut trees, or even swim well enough to save myself. 

However, being stuck in an urban jungle like Manila has quite a lot of perks. Yes I never climbed trees but I'm very adept at climbing stairs. I can run up a relatively long flight of stairs in one breath. Also, I have a keen sense of direction. I hardly get lost, even if I'm not really that familiar with the place. I use tall buildings, the sun and my charms to find my way. I'm also very adept in cooking instant noodles. Despite it's non-semolina noodles, I can keep everything al dente using songs as my timer. Yes I sing and dance when cooking noodles. Leave me alone.

If there's one very special skill I'm proud of is doing my covert operations. I like taking pictures. But not in that I-wanna-be-in-so-I-bought-a-fancy-camera-even-if-all-I-do-is-point-and-shoot-stupid-subjects-like-myself kinda way. 

I take pictures of fashion victims. You know, people who have no idea their taste in clothes and shoes will make Alexander McQueen stir in his grave. 

I take pictures of odd signs. Be it just grammar or spelling. I take pictures for kicks.

Here's what I mean:


All of these images are mine. If you wanna use it, go ahead. Just have the balls to ask permission or at least credit me. >.>













Friday, February 19, 2010

Pensieve

Finally a new blog!

I've had blogs in the past but sadly I failed to keep them up-to-date till I realized my last post was like more than a year ago LOL.

Hmm... what to do with all this space? I know I'll do my own version of Project 365. For those of you who are (hopefully) intelligent but (sadly) uninformed, Project 365 is like posting one picture you took each day of the current year. Some of my friends got their own Project 360 etc. because well, they missed some of the days of 2010. LOL again.

Anyway I won't post pictures here. I'm not a photography enthusiast. What I'll do is post at least one crazy thought per day. Sounds promising. I'll ask questions no one asks, say things most people would rather keep to themselves, and answer some of the questions which hopefully will not destroy any of the last morsels of dignity I still have left.

So, on with the craziness.

19 February 2010. Light blue polo, jeans and sneakers. We had lunch at Chowking (like we always do every other day). Tried out their new orange chicken. It was good. Well, that is if you like the taste of those sauces for fishballs (manong yung matamis ha). And then it happened. I had a sudden burst of courage. I turned and saw her. I was like, WTF?!? That has got to be the uggliest effing face I've ever seen in my life. She really looked like a hammerhead shark. with the underdeveloped body of a woman. Her eyes are too far apart you could mistake them for ears with lashes. Her upturned mouth and tiny button nose made it even worse.

I said to myself, I should have the courage to ask her where she parked her flying saucer.