Life is Too Short to be Impatient

A young friend chatted me up the other day, asking for a simple advise: should she stay with her current company who only offers her a small salary, or should she shift to a call center company where the immediate benefits is way better.

First of all, I have nothing against call centers. I respect their occupation and role in the society, being the recipients of our social ires — both valid and illogical. Sometimes you just gotta admire how their eardrums and brains can take the consistent pound-for-pound calls of irascible complaints, retarded questions, as well as the helplessly hurtful criticisms for their company (when it deserves merit).

But hey, I'm not talking about call centers.

Breaking Cycles, Becoming 2013

It's already 2013, and as I looked back in dismay - there were a lot of things I failed to do. Again.

As the year started in 2012, I was planning to buy myself some gadgets that I really, really needed. And so, I looked forward to the 13th month bonus (since my company doesn't give a Christmas bonus for us contractual employees). That included a graphic pen tablet (so I can upgrade my graphic design skills), a 1TB external/portable HDD drive, an affordable DLSR camera (or just the waterproof digicam, particularly the Olympus Tough haha), OR (yes, "or" not "and") a new mobile phone (or smart phone) - since the one I'm using (a simple but dependable Motorola phone) was just loaned from a good friend of mine years ago.

Alas, I didn't get a chance to buy myself any of these.

And somehow, thoughts of self-pity or self-chastisement creep up at nights, accusing me, "Why?!"

Yet, somehow God comforts me with the same question: "Why?"

Envy.

TheLoveStory: The Prodigal Puppy

[TheLoveStory is WINmakati's new church series which will run on December 2, 9 and 16, 2012. Here's my puppified version of what a love story means to me.]

Once there was an owner who kept a house full of wonderful pets. The owner was very kind. Every pet was loved and cared for. But the puppy was dissatisfied. He was envious of those Hollywood dogs, jealous of those pampered pooches on dog shows, and simply thought, "I'm an animal — I deserve a better dog's life!"

And so one day, he run away.

The Lame Blame Game

Just a year ago, Christopher Lao had been a target of netizens' criticism and ridicule over an amusing side comment captured on a news video reel. Just a few months ago, Carabuena sparked the outrage of countless Filipinos over a footage of him physically abusing an MMDA personnel.     

(As for Sotto's claims of being cyberbullied, HAH!)

And now, #AMALAYER.

The Many Horrors of a Semi-Adult Life

After a fun, brief (horrific) interlude at the Timezone videoke, a group of friends watched with me the movie "Sinister" at Glorietta. While I may not be the sturdiest when it comes to horror films, I'm not the kind to scare easily (though I am weak at gore). And yes, I admit that this film had me disturbed as much as "Insidious" did — except for the ending. Thank God.

Especially when you suddenly find yourself awake at 3:32AM after a few days, and the first thing your mind rivets to is that particular scene in the movie where the protagonist woke up...

Only to be succeeded overwhelmed by an equally terrifying thought:

"What if my friends uploaded that video clip of my horrible singing while I was offline?"

I started to pray.

* * *

Freedom Is Ours: An Adaptation

[The following piece is my parodized version of the famous declamation piece, "Vengeance Is Not Ours, It's God's" by Geronimo Sicam. Just my own twisted imagination of what can happen if our lawmakers don't amend the CyberCrime Law now.]

Likes, likes, likes. Share me a thought, a smile. Share me some photos to browse. I use the internet, so free, and so simple.

Why are you monitoring me? With my eyes I cannot see but I know that you are watching me. Why are you whispering to one another? Why? Do you know my father - offline? Did you know me five years ago, when I didn't have my Facebook account? Yes, five years of memories have passed. I can still remember the vast happiness I shared with everyone online. We were very happy indeed.

In Recognition of Desire

Ever since I heard about the Anti-Epal Bill in Twitter, I fell in love with the idea. "Epal" is an old Filipino slang from "ma-papel"(whose rough translations vary with context, such as "attention hog", "show/spotlight stealer," "credit/compliment beggar," etc. I hope you get the general idea. Filipino idioms are a bit tricky). Although the bill had roots way back in 2004, it gained popularity because of its rather unabashed renamed title. This was in response to the proliferation of credit-taking tarpaulins of supposed projects, accomplishments and other opportunities to turn an entire area into a politician's image - figuratively, and in many cases, even literally.

But being "epal" is not limited to politicians. And it's not even limited to Filipinos. It is a prevailing subconscious attitude, a silent culture of insecurity. It permeates every aspect of our society: from the sibling rivalries vying for a parent's attention, to the selfish pursuit of academic excellence (not that it is wrong, but really – for what reason or goal are the best-performing students aiming for ever since?), and that philosophical quest for self-actualization. Even the church is not exempt from it.

There's an epal inside every one of us. A soft, demanding voice that whispers a thirst for appreciation, for recognition and for remembrance.