A Lost Boy's Dilemma: Thoughts in behalf of my Generation

I am by heart an individualistic person. Who else wouldn't? In this age of in-your-face commercialism, factory-made things where everything almost always look the same, living in this privacy-starved and privacy-abused culture is downright impersonal. It's even harder to know exactly what/who you really are. One could just easily blend into this cookie-cutter culture like everyone else. Well, I wouldn't want that, though I might be showing random symptoms of being like the majority.

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While reading between the covers of my recent read, "X Saves The World - How Generation X Got The Shaft But Can Still Keep Everything From Sucking" by Jeff Gordinier, seeking some enlightenment on why my generation is here, I am imagining the song, "Next in Line" in my head. <chuckles> Though the book is largely based on an American Gen Xer's point of view but it still does strike unknown chords inside me. It's pretty scary when you feel unsure what your life mission is or what you really really like to be a couple years from now. Call it "Generation Lost". It sounds more suitable, but then again it seems any present generation is usually called by that moniker. I guess our own granddads might have also been calling themselves that, when they were in our confused stage of life.<Laughs> 

As this year comes to a close, I sincerely hope that each of us would know who we really are, individually. That way we can be happier persons. Happier persons' dreams tend to come true always, you know. <smiles>

Advance Happy New Year Everyone!

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Those Spurts of Fleeting Inspiration

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I promise to write on my blog everyday.


Ok, ok, I take that back...just only when I feel like it. This is my 19th blog entry so far since I started in October, so do not bet on my first statement.<chuckles> I just don't want be a monotonous twerp blogging basically the same formulaic words everyday: I eat, sleep, work, eat, sleep, work, eat...ad infinitum.

Sometimes emotions get hold of you that you wanna burst so you need to let it out (this is exactly what I feel at times), or you think you have this best plot for a prospective best-seller or whatever it is that bugs you all day; the best thing to do to appease your tormented soul is to jot down these "ephemeral children of the mind"  but when these i-have-the-greatest-idea/story-and-i-wanna-write-it-down moments happen, it's usually you're nowhere near some piece of paper and a pen or anything to record those down. What a waste of ideas, forever lost in the drain of collective passing memories. Like dreams, they just pop-up and then gone. Just like love and midnight kisses, they "...seem to cool in the warmth of the sun." as one Nat King Cole song goes.

I won't promise on the everyday blogging, don't bet on me on that. And hopefully I'm in front of my laptop whenever those fleeting moments hit me. And for those ideas/thoughts lost, I mourn them. Darn! Who knows I could have been the next literary wonder....<sigh>


Till next time!
<signed>
The Callcenter Boy - Literary Aspirant

No Goodbyes but Farewells

Another callcenter girl, a friend of my friend who is working in another company, has just resigned over the week. It had been, is and would always forever be a cycle. The coming and going of things, of people. The sun. The tides. The starting of a journey w/ the first step and the dusting of the wanderlust dust on one's clothes once it ends. The opening of the first page of a book we are so eager to read and the closing of it once it's all been read and over with. it's inevitable.

I was used to departures and arrivals when I was still small. For one, in the course of my adolescent life, my father was always assigned to other places because of work; seems like missing someone even dear is not such a big deal. I guess that started it. But it doesnt mean I care less for people when they are far and away. The caring never change, memories never forgotten; deep inside all of those things are still in here and here <pointing to head and heart>.

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I am quite amused to realize how "farewell" evolved into something that means departing because for starters, it actually is a shortened word (see how people tend to be quite lazy in talking? hmmm..) for the archaic "Fare-thee-well"; "Fare-you-well" in modern usage. Isn't that kind of sweet and thoughtful, much more profound than just saying "Goodbye?"  <smiles>  Seriously, it's all about hoping (and praying) that everything good would come in the way of the ones who are leaving. A very good friend once asked me how it might feel if she's the one who's leaving (she left anyway, and naturally I'm happy for her). I'm almost always happy for those who are leaving, I know they're following some kind of "dreams" so to speak. I didn't answer her but I just thought that whichever perspective we see it, its seems fair on both sides of the fence. You see, it's just Yin and Yang, it's Balance. Both sides lose something or things, and gains some too. It's just like how the Sun sets to make way for the Moon,vice versa, give-take; those things, you know...yeah...I'm mumbling now... And when one is leaving, I know how scary that can be; the BIG unknown might lie just across the street even. So for consolation and propping up of one's spirit it is good Karma to think that everything should all be well and nothing's to worry. More so when you say the phrase itself.

So if ever anyone of you is leaving, it won't be Goodbyes you would all be getting from me, but always "Fare-you-wells".

Lost in Time and Date (or, How does your job change you?)

Look how time flies!
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There are 365 days in a regular year (except on leap years); I suppose holidays or other special occassions are redmarked on everyone's calendar. But not me, not on my calendar if I ever even have one. I just rely on my cellphone's date and time. To me, the days are all the same when I started a call(center) boy. And I'm bad at remembering birthdays. The times I was able to greet some friends were those when I was able to read their birthday notifications on social networking sites, almost always on the unavoidable (LOL!) Facebook. For one who works even during holidays, every day of the year seems to be the same as any other. Even the spark of Valentines Day and the feel-good atmosphere of the Yuletide season don't sink in to one's core anymore.

I don't even celebrate my own birthday, especially when it falls on a workday. So I just spend the day sleeping, as I'm always (and I guess, forever will be) on night shift. It might sound pathetic to some but for me, always having this grateful mind especially on one's birthday is just about enough. On the contrary, I don't feel sorry for myself for not having to celebrate it, much less with other people since there are always other days to do that. Aside from being able to save some bucks in doing so, I would rather sleep or rest than to go out and have fun. I bet a lot of "call" boys and "call" girls agree with me on this one. <chuckles>

Some say I'm an individualistic person and I respect what they think. Anyway I guess it's just my own way of evolving with my current work. We have to know how to adapt to anything, especially to things as essential as our jobs.

What's your job and in what way/s does your current job change you?

Random Thoughts in a Busy Place

Everything is a show unfolding before our eyes.

I see by myself other peoples' lives found, lost, broken, made whole again. I am part of it but an outsider as well. People choose to see or not to see me; some go past through me as if im a specter. This is the good thing about it; I can go and come as I choose. They cannot see especially when I don't will them to see. The things that I do, dont really matter; if at all, just seen only by that Infinite Being above. 

Looking at everything from some "tinted glass" romanticizes everything, that if theres pain unfolding, it muffles it...and made pain mute as if a picture roll on a silent film of that bygone era. And Happiness through it, is just akin to a drunken state of mind, a temporary antidote to everything sad...as if making it not too intense so as to make you believe you would never ever know Pain again.

I see myself through the tinted glass as a refuge. We are all just faces on a wall sometimes, almost always wearing masks. Mostly poker faces. Who knows how much emotions are hidden in those masks? Through the looking glass, my eyes are shielded from those faces seemingly emotionless but judgemental. My eyes, our eyes are windows to our own being.

A Thought on my favorite Love Poem

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Excerpts from Cien Sonetos de Amor (One Hundred Love Sonnets) by Pablo Neruda

YOU must know that I do not love you
 and that I love you,

because everything alive has its two sides;

a word is one wing of the silence,
fire has its cold half.

I love you in order to begin to love you,
to start infinity again

and never to stop loving you:
that’s why I do not love you yet.

I love you, and I do not love you,as if I held

keys in my hand: to a future of joy–
a wretched, muddled fate–

My love has two lives, in order to love you:
that’s why I love you when I do not love you,

and also why I love you when I do.

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SABRÁS que no te amo y que te amo
puesto que de dos modos es la vida,
la palabra es un ala del silencio,
el fuego tiene una mitad de frío.

Yo te amo para comenzar a amarte,
para recomenzar el infinito
y para no dejar de amarte nunca:
por eso no te amo todavía.

Te amo y no te amo como si tuviera
en mis manos las llaves de la dicha
y un incierto destino desdichado.

Mi amor tiene dos vidas para amarte.
Por eso te amo cuando no te amo
y por eso te amo cuando te amo.

*************************************

There's always two sides to anything. Yin and Yang, Night and Day, Man and Woman, and what-you-may-call-its. But one thing that struck me really is not as how one complements the other but how differences can be just basically the same at one point. And translated to LOVE and LOVING, it shows that regardless whatever which side you are on, whether to LOVE or not to LOVE, with all the trappings that go with that...there's this raw, intimate feeling of well-being and a deeper understanding of one's existence.

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Murmurings of a bored soul...

Life is boring ...seems that  the world is getting less interesting; Wonder lost its magic and the monotonous hue of depression sets in. I feel happy nonetheless, for those people I meet who are smiling, or is it just my imagination? <chuckles> Take for example the barbecue guy in the corner on the road where the jeepney passes its regular route. His face is the epitome of what the mysterious King Melchisidec, from Coelho's book, "The Alchemist" referred to as, to paraphrase it, "...knowing your own purpose and reason for living." Or the graceful way a streetsweeper clean with her broom and the smile on a beggar's face shouldn't be regarded as just a smile or probably to lesser extent, a mannerism. But simply that inspite of our own imagined difficulties about them, they could be happier or more fulfilled than any one of us. One's very hefty salary or the capability to go to different places, and other "good things" in between, are not the prime measures of one's own fulfillment and happiness.

 

In my case, it's as if there's something that I'm missing ...I feel I still don't know myself at all. Could it be Love that I lack? Or potential? Or maybe motivation, and oh, don't forget optimism. Yeah, we somehow know we all lack a bit of something, and the struggle to make life at least bearable (and savor what little happiness we can squeeze from it <sigh!>) is what makes all these worth living for, the least. Hey, have you all ever felt that you just wanna let fly? Let go? Scream? A scream for freedom from the clasps of negativity and "mustn't-haves" (like bad relationships for one), real and imagined. I think all these comes to laying down our own roots and plunge into the deepest corners of our own desperate souls, and maybe, then maybe we can see a crying child--our own little lost self that needs comfort and then maybe, just maybe, we can derive strength out of that weakness...it could be very overwhelming, an none-too-simple concept but I think we all need to see beyond what's seen or reached. I still don't know myself completely. And I think that by doing unexpected things, different things, I can finally see "myself" and confront the person that is "Me".

And I look into the mirror, see myself beyond the eyes, the mousy hair, the lips(eager for a smile but just suppressed it), the moles and freckles on my face and often question myself, "Are you happy? Am I making you happy?"

Reflections while walking from work to home...

There is something else on how people walk. Aside from what we actually see - the stride, the step; graceful for some, sloppy for others, the gait - hurried or very much relaxed or even like a prance of a deer's as you can imagine. <chuckles> Other than these there seems to be something else because we all know there are certain things that cannot only be seen but perceived in a deeper sense. Seems we just take for granted this mundane thing we basically do ourselves or see everyday, every moment of our lives, we all know...that that certain walk could be the last for some -they could've been walking to their end with the grim reaper might already be waiting for them on the corner. For others, it might be a new beginning: a sign of hope, a celebration or for something greater to happen; a child's 1st steps, a single step that starts a thousand miles of travel by whatever means, or a patient's 1st steps right after a bad knee or foot injury.

I always get mystified by those who just started to travel or have just arrived.. Like, where are they going to? or where did they come from? If only the feet and legs could speak, what stories could they have shared! The dusts and wearies of a thousand travels sums up to that present moment and inevitably moments change, whether to our liking or not. There are lots of inconveniences and we can even point a few "devastations" and disappointments of travel but as much as possible, I take it as it is. It has always been my belief that a journey is never really "planned" until the actual travelling.

Walking from and walking towards. What better describes these phrases than this one simple word - Change.

How many people we see walking everyday? And do we at certain points in time, ask ourselves, "Are they happy with their journey?" Life's journey is never-ending until we die. And we go by our own lives, maybe oblivious to our surroundings. One can see in the multitude of people milling around or walking past in the crowded streets of any city or in the leisurely promenade in the malls, the faces --forgettable or unforgettable. Mostly just "masks" of the true person. How many of us walk from our own problems? For some, it may be an escape from the painful truth or maybe a burden. Or how many walk or, even run, to where LOVE is waiting for them? Wouldn't it be great!?<smiles> Or going to work --a testament of living-- or  going to new careers; to their job interviews, to their first day on the job; to travel to work in lands across and beyond. And oh yes, Adventure! It keeps the fire within one's soul burning..and adventures within one's soul is as interesting as adventures without.

The beauty of walking is not just on what's immediately seen but what is felt. It is the will of moving forward --as such a symbol of simply willing to change. Move forward--going forth---not just as it is as we physically see it, but moving forward to a better something.