The Accidental Taorist

Beware of wishes coming true

2009-01-06T09:50:00.001+08:00

From my last post, I said that I didn't belong anywhere near the corporate world. That's why I have totally shunned it (at least for now) and have decided to become a househusband/freelance blogger.

I have to admit that seeing my baby daughter grow through the good and bad days is really such a gift. The good thing about this is that my wife is doing very well at work and seems to have found her niche, while I on the other hand have not. I still a feel a bit lost--probably because of the lack of activity I once had when I worked vis-a-vis my present situation.

I'm still looking for ways to earn more and be more inside the house. I currently live in my wife's parent's house. I really don't see them as parents-in-law at all as they hardly speak to me at all. Haiiiz.

It's been a long time

2008-03-17T21:35:00.002+08:00

It's been years and now I'm supposedly back in my element--writing. I guess I've been trying to put myself too much into the whole Corporate World as a Human Resource Practitioner (whatever the hell that means). It's been nagging at me since my first day at my first job: YOU DON'T BELONG HERE. It's not like I'm not welcome or anything, but rather it's a gut feeling that this is not for me. I personally believe that my unconscious was telling me that I'd suck at the work I'm doing. It pays well, but in the end my mind goes somewhere else.

Ah fuck, fast forward to today...I'm again working as a ghost-blogger for a couple of sites and so far, I'm learning something from the whole thing. This is what's great about blogging about something you don't particularly like---you know something about it that you do like.

Well, I still got around 10 posts to write and this is just my way of decentralizing myself.

See you around, if you guys are still there.

Moving On Again

2006-01-14T19:44:00.000+08:00

I haven't posted a while here, wanna know why?

go to :

http://taorist.i.ph

BTW, this is my LAST post here.

i.ph

AMAZING Blog!!!!

2005-12-29T15:32:00.000+08:00

An AMAZING blog! How the heck did THAT happen?

amazing

Endlessly...

2005-12-28T11:43:00.000+08:00

blowing frickin' bubbles!

Delirium, the youngest of The Endless, you are the
keeper of insanity, delusion and everything
else that's just plain crazy. You make about as
much sense as fish and telephone flavored ice
cream. You are truly your own person, and the
fact that your eyes don't match, your hair is
three different colors, and you have a floating
fish following you doesn't bother you any. You
have a truly unique perspective on the world,
and no one else knows what to think about it.

Which Endless are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

Delirium, Endless, Quiz, Sandman, Gaiman

Man-Blog: Myspace patrol episode 1

2005-12-28T11:01:00.000+08:00

Ugly and funny

Technorati tags: blog, funny, friendster, myspace

Flash / How to Fold a Shirt

2005-12-28T09:40:00.000+08:00

Site for those Mall Salesladies.

Just think of the productivity! All the more time to spend around talking,gossping, backbiting!

Technorati tags: Folding Shirts

Migrate to i.ph?

2005-12-27T17:20:00.000+08:00

I am seriously thinking of migrating to another blog service provider. It's called i.ph. Yeah, it's THAT small.

I do have a blog over there now but it's basically the techie side of me. i'm thinking of letting go of this one and making the one over there as my Main blog.

I'm getting a bit bored with the Blogger layout and the other themes available. Tried changing it but it just seems to fall short when you stack it up against wordpress and i.ph. When it comes to features:

i.ph is NEARLY at par with Wordpress. Yup, it's almost THAT good.

Can you help me decide? The only reason why I'm staying at blogger is because of YOU guys. Will you come with me over there if ever I do make the jump?

Comadose
Modigli
Coop
Fred
Transience
Althene
Caz
Helen
Melly

and the others....

Happy Holidaze everyone!

i.ph,blogging

The Corporate Creed

2005-12-22T09:29:00.000+08:00

Beginnings start from endings.

The end is the start of beginnings.

It's like a snake eating it's own tail. Trying to fill its tummy with a yummy yummy

Self.

Killing ourselves with time. Something created to help us is destroying us. We are eating ourselves to death.

Produce! Produce! Fuck your body! It's just a sacred temple! Languish in it. Paint it in corporate colors. Put your company's flag on your soul. It's mission is yours now. You will have none but it.

Recite to me The Corporate Creed.

Our Boss, who art in the secluded cubicle.
Holy be your plated name.
Your profits come.
Your policies will be done.
On the company premises as it is during working hours.
Bring us this day our daily tasks.
And forgive us our missed deadlines.
As we forgive those who talk about us in the pantry while we're not there.
Do not bring us to termination.
And deliver us from retrenchment.
ISO.

Dooce anyone?

dooce,poetry,corporations

Ten Storey Love Song

2005-12-22T08:14:00.000+08:00

For my baby. This is a song that I wish I had written for you. I just want the blogosphere to know this....I love you babe.

Ten Storey Love Song
by: The Stone Roses

When your heart is black and broken
And you need a helping hand
When you're so much in love
You don't know just how much you can stand

When your questions go unanswered
And the silence is killing you
Take my hand
Baby I'm your man
I've got loving enough for two

Ten storey love song
I built this thing for you oooh
Who can take you higher
Than twin peak mountain blue
Oh well I built this thing for you
And I love you true

There's no sure-fire set solutions
No shortcut through the trees
No breach in the wall that they put there to keep you from me
As you're lying awake in this darkness
This everlasting night
Someday soon - don't know where or when
You're gonna wake up and see the light

Ten storey love song
I built this thing for you oooh
Who can take you higher
Than twin peak mountain blue
Oh well I built this thing for you
And I love you true

Ten storey love song
I built this thing for you oooh
Who can take you higher
Than twin peak mountain blue
Oh well I built this thing for you
And I love you true

Technorati tags: Stone Roses, Ten Storey Love song Lyrics, Ten Storey Love song, John Squire

Taorist's Dream

2005-12-22T07:49:00.000+08:00

I just love this song.......

Sparky's Dream
by: Teenage Fanclub

If she lived in space, man
I'd build a plane
Out of luck so beam me up
To hear her talking again

She painted pictures
That never dried
Always tried to keep the feeling alive

Need a crystal ball to see her in the morning
And magic eyes to read between the lines.
I take a wrong direction
From a shooting star
In the love dimension
Fading fast from taking this too far

That summer feeling is gonna fly
Always try and keep the feeling inside

Need a crystal ball to see her in the morning
And magic eyes to read between the lines
I took a wrong direction
From a shooting star
In the love dimension
Fading fast from taking this to far

Need a magic ball to see her in the morning
And crystal eyes to read between the lines
Need a magic ball to see her in the morning
And crystal eyes to read between the lines

Technorati tags: Teenage Fanclub, Lyrics, Sparky's Dream, Gerard Love, TFC, Fannies

Pandora's Inbox

2005-12-21T11:39:00.000+08:00

Look. Go. Stop. Listen.

Technorati tags: pandora.com

6

2005-12-13T17:23:00.000+08:00

My Google Page Rank as of 12/13/05 5:23 PM (+8GM).

I have made it to number 6 finally. A dream come true. I can die now.

This blog can finally rest in peace knowing that it once reached a 6. After this, my blog will be a "has been". Just an old geezer wishing he could get that ol' 6 back just....one....more...time.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Update: After publishing this post, my "6" 15 minutes of fame went down. I suddenly became a 3. How fickle the mind of the denizens of googlewood.

Damn you!

Damn you all!

Technorati tags: blogs, google rank, 6

I've Come Undone.....

2005-12-09T07:48:00.000+08:00

Again.

And again.

And again.

Actually, it's my shoelace.

Yeah, why the heck would you want to read about shoelaces getting undone? Because it happens on the most important part of the day: when you' re rushing off to work!

Imagine, it's 15 minutes to 8 and you're still 2 blocks away from your building. It's raining, cold, and dark. You're holding your umbrella on the right hand and folders on the left. You have a headache. You hear a rumbling sound in your tummy. You check your watch again. It's 5 minutes to 8.

Then your shoelace comes undone.

ARRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!

That's why I googled "how to tie a shoe lace".

I got this site.

It's a great site! I never knew that such a site existed!

Yeah, yeah call me a geek but I loved this site! You will too.

Unless you usually go barefoot to work.

Technorati tags: shoelace, shoes

Taoristaunaut

2005-12-07T07:41:00.000+08:00

Ehermmm.....

Hello aliens. Please don't eat me. I am the accidental taorist and I am the ruler of the Taoristopia, third planet to the sun. This planet is mostly blue and white. It has one moon.

If you need to have any convoy ships travel this sector of the galaxie, you are to pay 25% taxes.

Just e-mail me first okay?

Technorati tags: blog in space, taxes

Mr. Burroughs and the American Dream

2005-12-03T12:10:00.000+08:00

I am reprinting this post here because I want to and because it's so poignant:

For John Dillinger
In hope he is still alive
Thanksgiving Day, November 28, 1986

Thanks for the wild turkey and the Passenger Pigeons, destined to be shit out through wholesome American guts

thanks for a Continent to despoil and poison —

thanks for Indians to provide a modicum of challenge and danger —

thanks for vast herds of bison to kill and skin, leaving the carcass to rot —

thanks for bounties on wolves and coyotes —

thanks for the AMERICAN DREAM to vulgarize and falsify until the bare lies shine through —

thanks for the KKK, for nigger-killing lawmen feeling their notches, for decent church-going women with their mean, pinched, bitter, evil faces —

thanks for "Kill a Queer for Christ" stickers —

thanks for laboratory AIDS —

thanks for Prohibition and the War Against Drugs —

thanks for a country where nobody is allowed to mind his own business —

thanks for a nation of finks — yes, thanks for all the memories... all right, let's see your arms... you always were a headache and you always were a bore —

thanks for the last and greatest betrayal of the last and greatest of human dreams.

Wanna watch it? Link here.

Technorati tags: Burroughs, Thanksgiving, black and white film

Race To The Arctic Seat

2005-11-29T14:54:00.000+08:00

Races were meant to test humanity's endurance; man's heart. A noble sport where the competitor is seen more as a sparring partner and the self as a nemesis. Time and laps are measured as well as your mental focus in the being and the now. Exhaustion is a large possibility, ending the race is nearly a futile event. The finish line is the ultimate goal. The end is not the end, but rather a start to another race.

In this case, it was a race to the best seat in the train.

It happened this morning: Rush Hour. People lined up like there was a rock concert for professional yuppies at the end of the line. People sweating, swearing, picking pockets, slashing bags, etc. The air was humid and the stench of a potpourri of cheap cologne was all over the place. Skin to skin touch was imminent. Whether accidental or not, it was unwelcomed by most of the female of the species.

The line moved. Like a snake it went up the stairs. A gigantic caterpillar made up of different colors. A thousand feet marching and moving at the same time and speed. All in harmony.

The head of the gigantic insect reaches the first security line and is then dispersed into a thousand fragments.

There I was. On the platform, reading my GTD Book--waiting for the next train to come. There were quite a lot of people where I stood. I could feel their breaths on the back of my neck. I could smell their cheap perfume. I could taste their emotions of anxiety. The race is about to start.

The rumbling sound of the oncoming train served as the starting gun. The muscles in my back starts to tense. My eyes are darting left and right looking for a way to get an edge over the crowd behind me.

The train passes by. The windows go by so fast. My eyes see it as a running picture with the same surroundings. I see the reflection of the people behind me. They seem hungry to go in. I see myself licking my chops as well. I have become the crowd. I am the crowd.

The train screeches to a halt. The door is upon me. The swish of the Star Trek like doors begins. A man behind me uses his elbow to get ahead. Hurting other people in the process. He and I ended up as the main competitors. He uses his golden elbow to get to the coolest seat in the train. I told him,

"I'm not going to sit down. You take it."

Technorati tags: MRT, Metro Rail Trainsit

Bloggerholic Anonymous Spiel

2005-11-22T10:47:00.000+08:00

Read this wiki.

I am taorist and I am a blogaholic.

I have been surfing blogexplosion like crazy to:

Get credits so that other people will read my blog.
Read other people's blogs and comment on them.

I have blogged too much the last month, and it has affected my personal and professional life. My girl is growing tired of me talking about other blogsites and the bloggers who write them. She got pissed about the sex-in-the-kitchen thingie. My master has been hounding me for reports and "stuff" that she needed from me last month. My job is in deep dudu.

I have then decided to clean up a bit and moderate my blog posting/reading/commenting to twice a week. I need this time to refocus and contribute on the other parts of my life that this blog has nearly destroyed.

Naaaaahhhhhhhhhh!!!!!

Seriously, I had to go cold turkey for a while and finish some of my loose ends here in real life. Anyway, I'll be blogging again pretty soon since my master's schedule will be reduced to twice a week! Bwahahahahahhah!

Technorati tags: blogexplosion.com, blogexplosion, blogging

The Movement

2005-11-16T09:53:00.000+08:00

My girl said that our baby moved last night. I was so happy! I wish I was beside her when she felt the babe (yes. I will call her/him the babe from now on).

I'm so ecstatic that a new life is now forming inside her.
A new soul being developed.
A new being to walk on the face of the earth.
Another piece of hope.

Sorry, I haven't posted lately (like my Kafkanian Parable Part 3). I have been very busy at work and at home (I'm going back to my old house).

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

My father and I talked for the first time since June 2005.

The house seemed darker and disheveled since I left it. The windows were filled with cobwebs and dirt. The doors and gates were all squeaking and noisy when opened. The walls had too many paintings and mirrors on it. It felt cluttered and old. The negative vibe was strong in this house.

My father has gotten thinner. Most likely its because of the financial situation of my family. Food and luxury has gotten scarce around here. The only time he's happy is when he's at the Bingo table. Anytime after that...he's pretty much grumpy.

My mom is in the same state as well, but she seemed to be in good spirits despite the situation. She's still trying her darnest to earn something for the family to eat. I'd nominate my mom if they were to make a movie about Superwoman.

When we talked, he would give me this preach about the high cost and expenses of living, blah..blah. I've had enough of his blabbering, it just goes to my left and out my right ear. Fuck him, as comadose would say.

I'm having second thoughts of transferring my girl and the kids over here. I'm afraid that my father would hurt them as he did me and mother. If he ever laid a hand on my girl, the kids, and the babe, I would kick his fucking ass. Even if it means getting kicked out of the house.

Technorati tags: pregnancy

Sever

2005-11-12T18:29:00.000+08:00

I see a ghost of myself, lying on the bed.

I see phantom images of the kids running to me when I get home.

I remember sleeping next to my girl every night.

Now it's all gone.

We are leaving the house and going back to our respective houses. The kids need to continue their schooling at another place, I'll be back in my parent's house to prepare the place for their coming in summer.

It won't be the same anymore. No more sex in the kitchen. No more rolling in bed with the kids. At least not for a while.

This Christmas is gonna be lonely for me.

Technorati tags: ghost, moving out

Soul Sold

2005-11-11T08:29:00.000+08:00

When you go up the corporate ladder, do you sacrifice your humanity as well? When you become rich and successful at your job, do you tend to forget how it felt down there in the trenches?

Let's investigate.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Last night we got a nasty surprise.

We had our water connection cut-off. Unfortunately, we weren't able to pay the bill because of financial problems.

We decided not to come in the next day, because we needed to find a way to pay for the bill and the reconnection fee.

AND because we stink.

The kids had to go to school to finish their tests. Poor guys.

I SMS my master of the situation. I texted her, that I was sorry and will be unable to come to work on that day due to the circumstances stated above. She replied, that I should handle my finances better in the future. She was hoping that this will be the last time this will happen.

How kind and considerate of her. I really felt the concern coming from her heart of hearts.

Am I just another gear in the corporate machine? I'm sorry but I am human.

I wonder...has she sold her soul and humanity to the company?

Technorati tags: souless, management

...and ANOTHER Blog to Update!

2005-11-09T14:11:00.000+08:00

But this one is a cool one, bebeh!

I just got accepted as a blogger for finefools' It's Useless!

Check me out baybeee!

Here's my first post.

Hope you like it...if you don't well...(sob!) (sob!)

Give me and the guys a comment or two. See you there as well!

Kicking Ourselves Out of the House

2005-11-08T15:44:00.000+08:00

My girl's ex just couldn't stand her anymore.

He couldn't pay the kid's tuition as well.

Result: The kids might have to repeat next year.

Fuck this. The kids did their best to get good grades and now they'll have to repeat it all over again, because their ex-dad couldn't deliver on his boastful promise. He said that he'll take care of the kid's private school tuition fee. So off we go to the boondocks, rent a whole house, pay the expensive transpo and the ridiculous electric bills. We settle in, nearly get into a huge accident, and assume that everything' s settled.

Stupid us for relying on a womanizing, wife beating asshole.

Now we're planning to move back to the city, with little money left. The kids in a depressed mood. My girl and I in a fuming one.

I'm pretty much stupid if I don't say that this affects my work. It does. I keep thinking about the kids and what that bastard DIDN'T do.

Follow-up on his promise.

Kafkanian Parable (Part 2): The Bird

2005-11-05T12:13:00.000+08:00

The bird flies into the blue sea reflected in the sky.

The bird was a small speck of red against the white clouds. Slicing through and around the fluffy cottons in the stratosphere. Up-close she was even more fantastic.

She had bright red with yellow stripe-feathers near the edge of the wings. They flowed against the wind effortlessly. It shined against the rays of the sun; reflecting various hues of red in the sky. A green beak that was long and sharp. She seemed to be strong & powerful yet graceful & fast. She did have one flaw though.

Her eyes were colorless. It seemed dull. Like a tub of water filled with soap.

She was blind.

The bird flies by using her sense of nondirection. She feels her way throughout the world and beyond. She would be in Calcutta today, Israel tomorrow. She would fly at speeds unheard of.

There is no place in this world or the next she couldn't reach. She was once sighted biting from the apple of knowledge, swimming in the Marianas Trench, singing to Bach, and modeling for Raphael.

She is now drawn to a rancid town. Full of depression and insincerity. Lies and broken promises abound. The mud is a permanent fixture. Houses are crumbling. The people are apathetic and the children either run wild on the streets or die of hunger.

The cage sees her and hatches a sinister plan to imprison her. It wants her.

Another Blog to Update

2005-11-03T17:51:00.000+08:00

Got another one running. This one will be supporting this blog. It serves as a journal about the stories I'm planning to write here.

This current blog you're reading will have new stories in it three times a week...or at least I'll try to write three stories week (gulp!). The first one is the one below. I hope you'll comment on my other blog as well.

BTW, it's here.

A Kafkanian Parable

2005-11-03T07:35:00.000+08:00

I was inspired by indie. I first read about him through successful blog. After reading indie's blog I found it interesting and refreshing. It was somewhat a modern writers' version of a Thematic Apperception Test. I wanted to do something like that but using quotes. I'm going to start with one of my favorite writers of all time. Franz Kafka.

"A cage went in search of a bird."
--F. Kafka--

A small, empty, and lonely cage. Doors flung open. The hinges squeak to the beat of the cold wind. The bars seem to be rusty and unwashed. It smells of feces, urine, and fear.

It never housed anything. It felt unused. It was kicked around in the mud. Traveled from one corner of the street to another. Created yet unused.

It's purpose was to keep something from escaping. To keep it hidden. To use it as it pleases. Yet here it is. Empty and open. Exposed from within. Its belly is shown to the world as a lie! No one is inside! Nothing is inside!

A cage is just as useful as its prisoner.

One day, the cage decided to look for a bird. It will use whatever means necessary to procure it. By guile or force the cage will have its bird!

When Daddy Shot Mommy (Part 3): Into Oblivion Again

2005-10-26T07:39:00.000+08:00

"Death confronts us not unlike the historical battle scene that hangs on the wall of the classroom. It is our task to obscure or quite obliterate the picture by our deeds while we are still in this world."

--Franz Kafka--

The sun was just rising. The curtains were flying. Sunrays were going through the window. Hitting a patch of hair on the ground. The hair was just curled by the owner the other week. She had it colored a bit to look like it was auburn brown. She used to have a straight, black hair.

She wanted to look hip like the rest of the crowd in the 80's. She was wearing a Menudo T-shirt. She had on a hot pink pair of shorts. I made fun of it just the day before this one. She gave me a tickle after I made a comment that she looked like a strawberry popsicle in those tight shorts.

She's my mom and she's lying on the ground.

I was at the door way.

It was like a movie. I was just a spectator, unable to do anything about it. The movie is just about to end. I was half expecting credits to roll in. With the lights coming up and curtains coming down.

But it was real. No cameras. No directors. No writers. Just me, mommy, daddy, and the gun.

I heard a deep voice saying,

"I just wanted to scare her."

I looked at my father. He had a stone-cold face on. Remorseless son of a bitch. That was the first time I remembered that he was there. He was still holding the gun. I then heard a mumble on the other side of the room where my mom laid.

I looked at my mother. Her fingers were trembling. She was alive! She then let out a loud wail. She was crying and shouting at the same time. There were no words. She tried to sit up and clutched her head. I presumed she was checking for blood. I hoped there were none.

I looked at the wall just behind my mother. The wall had a large hole in it. The bullet still in its place.

My mother then ran out of the room and I followed her. I followed her into.....

Blank.

I couldn't recall what happened next.

I wish I could.

I could cook up a story of what happened next but that would be wrong.

I would be cheating myself and the people who have been following my story.

At present:

My father still lives with us. He proclaims that he has changed and is now a born-again Christian. A Christian with a .45 Caliber Pistol and a brand new shotgun.

My mother is still his wife. I guess she decided to stay for our sake. Divorce is not a legal option in our country.

Me. I'm an HR practitioner for a publishing company. Telling you this story.

This is the part where I say: The End.

But it's not. Life goes on. Things repeat. Things happen for the first time. Some hopefully never happens again.

Unfortunately it happened again.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thank you for your comments and silent prayers.

Rhoda
transience
Eric
Amith S
Alice
MoDigli
The Hungry Writer
Reia
Melon
Caz
Gabby
Melly
bc
Gracie

Thank you for reading this part of me. I am glad that I was able to share this with all of you. Please come visit again.

When Daddy Shot Mommy (Part 2): Shooting My Sun

2005-10-25T08:49:00.000+08:00

"bang"

The .45 Caliber Pistol is a shiny black piece of golden death.

The gun was my father's most prized possession. He brought it with him everywhere. During the day, he would place it inside his clutchbag. It's like he expects to be in a gunfight everyday. At night, he would put it under his pillow for "protection".

Every 13th of the month, he would take out a white rag, put it on the dining table and begin to dismantle his weapon of choice. He would gently and meticulously remove the dirt, grease, and rust from the metal. He would blow the gun powder away from the innards of the barrel. After the cleaning is the reassembly of the weapon. He would time himself sometimes. Once all finished, he would smile and look at the gun like it was a new baby. He then points it at the sun and says,

"bang"

He sure loved cleaning that motherfucker.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I was in my bedroom that day.

It was a summer morning. The sunrays were peaking out the ajar doors. Like a blazing knife in the darkness of my room. I hear some birds chirping. The temperature was rising but still comfy. It was a sunny day.

I heard shouts and thuds from a body being thrown to the floor. The voices were familiar to me yet they weren't. They used to sound sweet and loving. Now all I hear is madness. I then go and take a peek through the ajar doors I was talking about earlier. I put my head into the blazing knife. I saw them fighting. My father was restraining my mother's arms. She was trying to pound on his chest. Her mascara was streaking blues and green on her cheeks. She looked like an Indian going into a suicidal battle.

He throws her down. She looked injured. He goes for his clutchbag. She remains dazed. He unzips the bag. She's coming around. He takes out his gun. She rises to her feet. He points the gun at her. She tries to run. He follows her around with the gun.

"bang"

His body recoils violently. Smoke came from the gun. Smells like violent firecrackers.

He shoots her on a sunny day.

She falls to the ground--a damp, used up towel. My sun. The source of my light, is on the ground. Her head was facing towards the ajar door where I was peeking. Her eyes were blank. The iris was like an ant on a white plate. The color of her lips were starting to get blue.

I open the door and go to her. But I stand stuck. I was unable to move my legs beyond the open door. I don't know why.

When Daddy Shot Mommy (Part 1)

2005-10-18T14:00:00.000+08:00

He reached for the loaded gun. She tried to run away. He lifted his right arm to take aim. She froze in terror. He starts to squeeze the trigger. She looks down at the barrel of the gun, knowing that when it lights up--she dies.

It happened when I was around 5. My parents used to fight a heckuva whole lot back then. I never really understood why they fought. My dad was an ominous figure. He was big and violent. Smells funky too. With a smoking and drinking addiction, he reeked of cigarettes and rum. My mom was a business-minded person. She was really intent on making her little shoe store a financial success. An early 80's working woman, she was more involved with work than anything else. They weren't the perfect parents I had in mind, but they were mine.

My brother and I were used to them fighting. It usually was loud and violent, but still it ended with them getting back together again. There were times that my mom would be crying and I would go to her and ask why. She would say something incomprehensible and I'd nod, knowing that it was the right thing to do at the time. My father, on the other hand, would pretty much go to his buddies when the fighting ends. They'd go up to the mountains and do stuff. Whatever they were doing I'm not interested. Me and my little bro would play GI Joe and Transformers. To us, the fighting was a normal thing. Until the day came.

My father pointed a loaded gun at my mother and shot her.

Finding the Wounded Throat

2005-10-13T14:48:00.000+08:00

Finding old friends that you thought have left you feels.....

Actually it's pretty much a mixed bag of thingies.....

(That wasn't how I wanted to start this)

(God! ME using the word ---THINGIES!)

(Anyway....)

First, there's the elation of finding the person (Yaaay!!)

Second, there's the wondering thing (Hey! Waitaminit!)

Third, there's the where/what-the-heck-happened-back-there stage.

Fourth, depends on the answer to the third question.

Fifth, go back to the first...

[Put A Space In This Blank]

2005-10-12T16:39:00.000+08:00

Spaces and blanks are beautiful aren't they?

They give you respite between words and images.

They provide you time to recuperate after chilling feedbacks.

They make your tongue waggle for more (salivate!)

What they don't do is give you an answer.

Coz' sometimes there's none.

Willing To Give Out Money

2005-10-12T15:35:00.000+08:00

For a piece of appreciation.

For a slap at the back, saying,

"Nice job Taorist."

For a thankful smile.

For a little bit of support.

Emotional and financial supports are different, though they support each other.
Ha! Supporters supporting each other.

I envy you.

Workers and managers of the heart.

Leaders where art thou?

The output is more important than the heart of the person?

The body will die without the money to buy food.

The mind will die without motivation.

The heart will die without desire.

The soul will die without the body, mind, and heart.

Challenged Ever Since Day 1

2005-10-12T15:19:00.000+08:00

My boss/master sent me this e-mail:

Please, Taorist, I am sorry to say this but I'm disappointed with the way our recruitment is moving. I'm disappointed because I know you can do better than that. You mentioned during our initial interview that you prefer recruitment over the other HR functions - you said that this is one aspect of HR that is being taken for granted.

Now, I'm throwing you a challenge - PROVE YOURSELF.

She said that I should prove myself.

Said she knows I could be better than that.

She's dissappointed because she knows I can be better than that.

Ever wonder why?

Ever asked why?

The feeling's mutual, master.

I'm disappointed in you as well.

Disappointed because I know you can be better than this.

Although you chose not to.

Lift

2005-10-10T17:52:00.000+08:00

Thank you.

I don't even know how or where to start.

I was pretty much confused and depressed over the weekend. I was ready to withdraw from internet blogging and return to my little wiki shell. I thought that nobody would even give a damn or flying F what I thought (esp. the first commenter, may the gods bless you as well).

Then I read your comments.

I couldn't help but feel appreciated. I haven't felt that way in a loooooong time; outside my girl and the kids of course. I'm so glad you took time and cared enough to comment.

I will continue writing until my fingers swell. I will continue expressing my thoughts/ideas/feelings until I run out of them.

And it's all because of you guys.

Thanks again.

You just made a miserable guy's day great again.

Withdrawing From Blogging

2005-10-08T16:36:00.000+08:00

I have been bitten by the Tiddlywiki bug.

I have been playing with wikis since last post and I gotta tell ya....it's pretty tempting. Tempting to do what?

Withdraw from Blogging on the net altogether.

Why Withdraw?
1) I can have my very own blog around my neck. No, a WHOLE freaking website around my neck. MY website!
2) It's as private as it gets. It's like the old time diaries except it's smaller and portable. No one will ever see it unless I send it to them thru the e-mail (Yes. It is THAT small).

Why not?
1) I'll miss my blogger friends (redefyne, Jessi, MoDigli , Melon, Helen, Sippy, etc.)
2) It's really not community friendly.

I feel like I'm stuck in a rut. I'm thinking about it.

Will I be missed?

The Mad One

2005-09-30T15:24:00.000+08:00

I just got into BLOGMAD!

What is it?

Is it the Blogexplosion killer?

If you want to get involved in it. Click to Blogmad.net.

DON'T READ THIS!!!!

2005-09-28T16:15:00.000+08:00

Got tagged by jessi!

1. Do you try to look hot when you go to the grocery store just in case someone recognizes you from your blog?

I only look hot when I'm with my girl.

2. Are the photos you post Photoshopped or otherwise altered?

Nope. I wish they were, though.

3. Do you like it when creeps or dorks email you?

Sorry. I don't e-mail myself. At least, I don't do it anymore.

4. Do you lie in your blog?

Not yet. But there's a possibility. Anything's possible if you're the writer, publisher, advertiser, schmuck of your own blog.

5. Are you passive-aggressive in your blog?

Yes. I can also be aggressive-passive as well! Make love not war!

6. Do you ever threaten to quit writing so people will tell you not to stop?

I did that once (in my old blog). They followed me here.

7. Are you in therapy? If not, should you be? If so, is it helping?

Nope.

8. Do you delete mean comments? Do you fake nice ones?

I delete spam. I consider them as mean enough to be deleted. I mean, I'd rather have a hate comment on my blog than a fake-advertising one.

I don't make nice ones. My friends/readers do it for me.

9. Have you ever rubbed one out while reading a blog? How about after?

Dunno, rubbed what? There's a lot of things I can rub. LOLZ!

10. If your readers knew you in person, would they like you more or like you less?

I hope they'd like me. But it's really up to them.

11. Do you have a job?

Yes! I'm an HR Specialist at a Publishing Company.

12. If someone offered you a decent salary to blog full-time without restrictions, would you do it?

Yes. In a heartbeat baby!

13. Which blogger do you want to meet in real life?

See answer no. 14

14. Which bloggers have you made out with?

I'd help my girl get a blogger account first and then I'd make out with her. LOLZ!

15. Do you usually act like you have more money or less money than you really have?

I usually "act" like I do have moolah. I'm trying to fake itto make it you know?

16. Does your family read your blog?

Yup! My girl reads it every day.

17. How old is your blog?

A few months old, but it's got quite a lot of posts in it!

18. Do you get more than 1000 page views per day? Do you care?

No. Unfortunately I don't. I do care enough to know what they think about my blog. But still what goes in my blog is pretty much up to me.

19. Do you have another secret blog in which you write about being depressed, slutty, or a liar?

If I did, do you think I'd post it here?

20. Have you ever given another blogger money for his/her writing?

I wish I could! There's some pretty good bloggers out there that deserve more than money!

21. Do you report the money you earn from your blog on your taxes?

No, I don't. Cause I don't get ANYTHING! Hear that Adsense? I get NOTHING!!!!

22. Is blogging narcissistic?

Please see my post on the subject.

23. Do you feel guilty when you don't post for a long time?

No I don't. I post when I feel like it.

24. Do you like John Mayer?

Yeah! I bought his first album. My girl has his song in her cellphone.

25. Do you have enemies?

Yes I do.

26. Are you lonely?

Not anymore.

27. Why bother?

Because I do.

I am tagging............drumroll please.....Redefyne, Sippy, the Mo-ster, The Thaoist, nukapai!
Gabby,
Box,
The Editor
Melon
Gracie!

A Monster In Your Mind And Heart

2005-09-21T18:26:00.000+08:00

I shouted at the kids last night.

It was the first time that I heard my father's voice speaking through my mouth. I was becoming as demented as he was. Was this my fate? To continue this vicious cycle?

One of the kids, Jo, stole a few pieces of coin. The money was supposed to buy us some drinkable water. Since the money wasn't enough to cover for the water, they had to spend the whole day drinking from the neighbor's house. When we arrived late at night and found out what happened, I lost it. I shouted right into his face that he was a thief. I threw his peace offering (peanut butter sandwich) in his face and told him that I didn't want to receive anything from a thief.

My girl was pretty much scared and disappointed. Scared at what I could've done and disappointed at what I did. She was crying the whole night. All I did was stare at the ceiling and watch reflected headlights bounce off the walls.

In the morning, I decided to apologize to Jo and promise to control my anger in the future. He says he forgives me.

Now I have to forgive myself.

In The Name of The Father

2005-09-19T17:58:00.000+08:00

I may be a father.

Yes. My girl maybe pregnant. I feel happy. I may finally become a bonafide father. I don't care if it's a girl or boy. The important thing is that we have produced life.

A life that can either make or break the world.
A life that will live in places I will never go.
Taste new food I will never taste.
See things I will never see.
Feel things I will never feel.
Yet, I will be with her/him.

In the heart, mind, and soul of my baby.

The Ultimate PDA

2005-09-15T14:07:00.000+08:00

Check this out!Communication Nation: The ultimate PDA

I've tried it and it is true! It is a PDA made out of paper!

Let's go LO-TECH!

Children Ganging Up On Each Other Because They Love Their Father

2005-09-14T17:30:00.000+08:00

I' ve been following this christian show on TV.

They would dedicate like 4 hours a day just to lambast the other christian show. 4 HOURS-A-FUCKING-DAY! Monday to Sunday! They would strut their holier-than-thou antics and read from multiple versions of the same book (The Bible) and tell the other christian show- viewers to go to theirs. Because theirs' is "The Right Way".

They would find fault with the other evangelist and the other would get back at them.

Kids.

That's what they are to me.

I watch the show for kicks. I laugh out loud when they trample all over themselves. It's just so funny sometimes. They both have different views of the same God and they just won't accept it. They just cannot accept the fact that God can be ANYTHING to ANYONE! He can be your source of strength or frustration. He can be nothing or everything to you.

That's the great thing about faith. YOU-JUST-DON'T-KNOW! You'll have to put trust in whatever God-view you have and hope it's the right one. Just live out the best you can. If you think it's a mistake than do something about it. You can either stick to your guns or move on.

I believe that we are here for a purpose. But we each have different purposes in life. Don't insist that your purpose should be mine.

Do You Have A Long Or A Short One?

2005-09-14T17:08:00.000+08:00

...........blog post that is.

I have been told that my blog posts were short. Honestly, I never thought they were short. I thought they were just want I wanted. I didn't want to go on a tirade or something. I just want them that way.

I don't know. Maybe it's a culture thing as well. Most western poets specialize in having long poems while us in the east were pretty much trying to squeeze in a whole picture in 5-7-5 syllables. For us, the smaller the better.

I don't know which is better. Maybe to each, his own. Besides, it is their opinion. I can respect that.

Yup. I love my small-post blog.

The Blogger: Arrogant or Just Misunderstood?

2005-09-12T13:18:00.000+08:00

Am I arrogant? Are you?

Arrogance can take so many forms. It could be subtle or in-your face. Besides, who would admit to being arrogant in the first place? The one who does so would be the honest one and the others are lying AND arrogant. We've all been arrogant one way or another in this blogging life.

To say that we are humble when we blog about (gulp!) ourselves is pretty much hypocritical. Even when we complain or rant about others in our blog we become arrogant. Righteously arrogant. When we blog about things we like/hate it's still the same thing. It all comes back to being about US.

Next time you read a blog and it seems that the blogger was arrogant, say this to yourself,

"I am arrogant as well. What right do I have to judge the person otherwise?"

Besides you can just click on the X button on the upper right hand of your window and do something else. Or better yet write a post.

Yes. I am arrogant. Are you?

Check these out as well, we got something going on here:

The Void Zero

The Smooch Dog

Momentary Lapses of Insanity

Life Without Icka

Tomorrow This Could Be Boring

It Wasn't As Bad As I Thought

2005-09-12T13:04:00.000+08:00

It was worse......

The house was situated in the middle of an algae-filled, man-made pond. No, it wasn't pretty at all. There were 6 year old garbage in the muck. Dragonflies, flies, mosquitoes, CATFISHES (!!!!) and God knows what, were in "The Pond". And it didn't even rain!!! That means this water has been stagnant for a long time!

The house itself had holes in the roof. No electricity nor water (clean ones) was available. The windows were just holes in the wall. No protection from sun nor rain. Mosquitoes and flies come in and out all the time.

My girl, the kids, and I were pretty much fucking dumbfounded. This is what my girl's parents was giving to us? Jesus H. Fucking Christ. I will never let my girl or kids sleep here. I don't care what her parents say.

Haiku # 2: Girl On My Mind

2005-09-07T07:28:00.000+08:00

Pride Does Not Equal Fried

2005-09-06T16:38:00.000+08:00

Which tastes better pride or fried?

Fried? Depends on what you fried I guess. Pride? So bitter it tastes like poison.

We're going back to the metropolis. After living in the clean air of the country-side, we're going back to the smog-filled, rat infested city. We'll be living in one room. All 5 of us (including the nanny). It's gonna be a bit squishy inside but we'll find a way. The kids will be studying in the local public school. At least it's gonna be less expensive.

What hurts more is admitting that we made a mistake. Knowing my girl's parents and bitchy sis, they'll definitely let us have it. Well at least the kids will be doing ok. It's gonna sting for a while but we'll get used to it.

The Bad Consequences Of A Good Decision

2005-09-01T14:30:00.000+08:00

Everything seemed fine until the reality of the situation hit me in the face.

When my girl, the kids and I moved out on our own we thought that we'd make it. It would be hard but we'd make it. We did the calculations and the planning. But we never expected it to be like this.

With the whole country going down the moral drain and prices skyrocketing....the real victim here are the kids. They may have to stop schooling in the middle of the year. They are also getting very thin lately.

Me and my girl are in a quandry. We both don't want to go back to our parent's house for different reasons. She doesn't want to stay with her bitchy sister and I don't want to go back and be a burden to my parents.

I'm so worried about the situation now. I guess this is where faith comes in. When choices seem limited another appears.

The Girl In My Mind

2005-08-31T10:19:00.000+08:00

My girl reads my blog.

Some might say that I'm crazy. "Why would you have your girl read your blog for chrissakes?"

Easy.

Because I trust her and she trusts me. I can openly share my thoughts with her without fear of rejection. Although at times she does say that the posts gets too personal. I'm willing to adjust to that. I just want to share my love for my girl to the world...at least the cyberworld.

To my girl out there reading.

I do love you.

Silent Voyeurs On The Outskirts of Blog City

2005-08-30T14:21:00.000+08:00

This post is dedicated to the ones who read and never leave a mark.

First off, I want to thank you.
Whether you agree or disagree with what I have posted, the mere fact that your eyes have scanned my thoughts is enough for me.

Second, you're welcome to take a look from time to time.
If you liked (or hated) me that much you are invited to read my posts. You can either blogroll me or bookmark me.

If ever you guys change your mind, and comment; expect that I'll e-mail or contact you as well. Just leave your e-mail addresses.

CYA!

Pain Tolerance vs. Fulfillment

2005-08-29T18:46:00.000+08:00

I was with my girl yesterday. We were inside a church.

Yes. I, who abhorred organized religion, am standing inside a church. I was there to accompany my girl. I love her.

Anyway, I was listening to the sermon from the priest.....it was pretty much ok and I agreed with it. According to him, he read a Psychological Study stating that kids are having lower pain tolerance today than ever. I honestly have not read the study yet, but I'll agree with him. I, too, have noticed a growing population of "rich brats" in the community. They tend to cry a lot over some small matter.

Am I just getting old here?

Included In the Blogs She Reads

2005-08-29T14:54:00.000+08:00

It is quite an honor mam.

Yes. I've been included in the blogs that Iris--the enigmatic non-comment blogger--reads. If you're reading mam. Thanks.

Just want you to know.

The Gentle Passion

2005-08-29T14:14:00.000+08:00

One day I was reading a book about a guy who tied himself to a rocking chair.

Nope it wasn't any S & M type of thing. For him, it was a way to reach the heights of unconsciousness. He would rock and roll until he got so dizzy and pained out of his mind; he reached nirvana. Well, actually his girlfriend found him under the chair with his nose broken.

Murphy by Samuel Beckett.

The thing I got from the book was "The Gentle Passion". He was what you could call the leaf in the wind. He would search out horoscopes and fake swamis so that he had some inkling as to what he would do for the day. And the girl loved him. She was his exact negative mirror. She would gently push him towards the right direction and he would quote it as "The Gentle Passion". She might as well have a whip made of feathers.

Anyway, for me it's a very funny and violent book. It's almost a humorous way to look at the daily lives of the fate-dependers. Fate can help but if you depend on it too much you end up falling on your nose. Bleeding and everything.

Quid-quo-pro, child.

I'm Going To Die

2005-08-29T07:47:00.000+08:00

.....for what?

That was a question that kept on buggin' me over the weekend. It was National Heroes Day yesterday. It has become some sort of an idiom, a catch phrase. "Ooooooh...I'd die just to get a bit of (put whatever you want here)." It has lost it's seriousness and nobility.

To tell you honestly,

1)I wouldn't die for this government. How can you die for something you don't believe in anymore?

2)I wouldn't die for religion. A lot of people has already died for it and I don't see the reason why.

3)I wouldn't die for philosophy. I believe that everyone has a right to their own beliefs and that we should respect them for it.

There's so many things I wouldn't want to die for. Right now, I'm looking for something that I can live for.

1)I want to live for my kids. I want to ensure that they become better than me.

2)I want to live so that I can leave a legacy. Not only to my descendants but also my community.

3) I want to live for the future. Because that's "where we will be spending the rest of our lives."

When You Hit The Wall

2005-08-26T19:40:00.000+08:00

It hurts.

The running is just a way to compute the velocity that will translate to your injuries much later. The cries in your head are REAL.
They' re of your near ancestors playing their tears of woe.

Naruda is best read
Reading a Mexican-Spanish Thread
Rather than English
Where it all goes to someplace else.

Ivory underneath your fingers
see-saw and hit a string
that reverberates in your ear
and then becomes electric!
Running in your brain
It hits your soul

When you hit the wall

It hurts.

The running is just a way to compute the velocity that will translate to your injuries much later. The cries in your head are REAL.
They' re of your near ancestors playing their tears of woe.

Naruda is best read
Reading a Mexican-Spanish Thread
Rather than English
Where it all goes to someplace else.

Talk To Yourself At Times

2005-08-26T18:46:00.000+08:00

You might just get an answer.

I Was a Friday Morning and Wednesday's Child Was a Wednesday Afternoon

2005-08-26T18:11:00.000+08:00

Yeah it's all because of the Prime Meridian and Greenwich International Timeline.

I was chatting with Wednesday's Child using the new Google Talk. (It's a stripped down version of an Instant Messenger. The good thing about it is that you can CALL your other friend for FREE! YES! FREE!) It was nice chatting with her for a while when I asked her what time it was in her country. She told me it was Wednesday 4:30 PM. I'm Friday 7:30 AM. She's summer and I'm rainy season. That's so whack!

Still it was nice chatting with her. Hey if you want to chat with me just download the program and put in my e-mail: antipathico@gmail.com

The Obituary

2005-08-25T14:43:00.000+08:00

Natalie has disappeared.

Yes. She has erased every beautiful poem, interesting story, rant, etc. on both her blogs. She has e-mailed me her reason and will keep it secret. I was deeply saddened by this event.

It seems that the freedom offered by the internet is nothing more than illusion. How can you be free and yet be forced to hide behind an anonymous name? How can one give their real thoughts and feelings when they are threatened in the real world? The internet's boast of ultimate freedom is just....a boast.

The ultimate freedom is death.

Natalie As A Substitute For Wonder---R.I.P.
Muggleswitch----R.I.P.

Lay Your Hand On the Devil's Horns

2005-08-22T19:09:00.000+08:00

I once was a despicable person.

I used to ride the sweet nectar of debasement and malcontent. No responsiblity; nothing was sacred to me. Everything can be turned into an art form. The face of Christ and the church was my primary target. They were so easy to pick. They were what I know most.

I hated the church and all it stood for. I felt I was betrayed and let down. I was lashing at everything. It was so easy. So sweet. So envigorating. So righteous. I believed I know the truth. It was mine and no one will ever take it from me. I'll scratch the eyes of the person who does.

It was when I started my thesis on Zen Buddhism that my head started to turn around. No more "either you' re with me or against me". There were other paths that I can take. The church was just one of the many religious organizations in the world. I have decided not to partake in it anymore. It has been tainted with humanity's grubby hands and politicking.

Now I am at peace. Accepting the idea that you can believe in God and not be a Roman Catholic. Be curious. Question everything.

When the Harness is Thrown Off

2005-08-22T16:54:00.001+08:00

I am a wild stallion running through the green fields, sniffing the free air, and falling into the ravine.

My boss has been on Leave for quite a while now. That's why I've been blogging quite a lot. While the cat is away....stuff.

Some of you might already be commenting that I have wasted my time with such things. Thanks to this opportunity I've also been able read and comment on other blogs. I've communicated with other bloggers as well. It's been an enriching experience for me.

I never believed that time is ever wasted. It's always there. Time has a finite quality to it as well. It started somewhen in the past and end in the future. But it will never be wasted. Wasting time for me is merely an illusion. You always get something in return for the time that you spent. It may not be good but you ALWAYS get something.

You may have spent your time on a supposedly good thing that ended up bad and vice versa. Consequences. It's unforeseeable. You might try to steer it in the right direction but we aren't all clairvoyants.

Yi-haw!!!

Nothing's Gonna Change My World--Iris' Diary

2005-08-22T09:47:00.000+08:00

I would like to comment on what I read in her recent blog.

Yes. She does have the right to do whatever she wants with her blog. She has every right not to allow any comments to her blogs.

Everyone has their own motives for blogging. Some want to exhibit themselves, some want to share their experiences and thoughts to the world. But it is up to them whether they want comments from the readers or not. Their motives are their own business.

You may never read this but it is an honor knowing a part of your soul, Iris.

Connected But No One Connects

2005-08-17T09:30:00.000+08:00

It's so nice to read all of the commentary here. It makes me feel like I'm actually giving somebody a piece of me....and they like it!

It's so hard to be exposed and naked this way. That's why there are some people who still keep private blogs or diaries. Some are afraid of the possible rejection they might receive from the readers. Some probably just don't care. Everyone has a motive for creating their blogs.

At first, I used my blog as a way to vent out my feelings and thoughts about everything around me. Now I added two more to that. I want to practice my writing skill and connect with others out there. YES! I am no longer the lone wolf I used to be!

I want to connect with YOU! Yes! You the one that 's reading this right now. Give me a comment or two or blogroll me! You'll surely hear from me!

Accident Inside the Asskicker and Trembling Lady

2005-08-15T14:53:00.000+08:00

Was I cursed because I chose this title?

Event 1: Accident Inside the Asskicker.

Me and my girl got into an accident. Yes. The Accidental Taorist got INTO AN ACCIDENT!

Pre-Accident.
It happened last Saturday early morning around 2 AM. Me, my girl, and two helpers were transferring some home furniture to our new house. Unfortunately the truck we got was GIGANTIC! I guess you've seen trucks carrying cars on their trailers? Yup that's fucking it. If it could transform into a robot, it would kick Optimus Prime's ass to Cybertron. We were about a kilometer away from our home when we hit a snag.

The Accident.
The top of the trailer snagged a line! It snapped and hit a lamppost! We were stunned and waiting to be electrocuted. We were waiting to die inside Optimus Prime's Asskicker Truck.

Post-Accident.
No hissing. No sparks. We were alive. We snagged a phone line. Of course the people inside the house near the accident was awake. They seemed to be all drunk. That's a good thing for me. They're pretty much sedated. They were pissed as a pissed drunk could ever be. Took down the necessary info and decided to stop where we were and just transfer the furniture BY FOOT to our house.

New Event 2: The Trembling Lady.

Pre-Event.
I then decided that the helpers and I would be the ones to take the furniture down from the trailer and carry it all the way to our house. I then asked my girl to open up the gates to our house. She then walked into the dark streets of our place.

The Call.
My Cellphone rang. I was a bit curious as to who would call me this early/late? Then I saw it was my girl. I was presuming that she was confirming that the house is open.

My Girl: Babe, please help me.
Taorist: Why what's wrong? Where are you?
My Girl: I'm at L st. corner E. st. There are dogs everywhere. They've surrounded me! (I hear violent barkings in the background). I'm near a lamppost. Please help me!
Taorist : Ok. Stay where you are I'll try to look for you!

The Old Man.
I then proceeded to look for the street considering that I'm new to the area, I really have no idea where she is. I called her again.

My Girl: Babe. Please help!
Taorist: I can't find you! Where are you?
My Girl: I don't know! They're getting nearer.

Then an old man from the house earlier approached me and signed me to follow him. He knows where she is! I then follow him through a labyrinth of streets.

And I saw my baby, trembling with fear. Apparently the dogs sensed we were coming and left her. I held her and comforted her.

Pro-active/crastination

2005-08-15T14:16:00.000+08:00

These two seemingly opposite words have the same suffix, don't they?

Both are promoting something. One good, the other undesirable. Why are the undesirables promoted? Is it to show that it exists? It has benefits? Since when has staring into space have it's benefits? Answer: Ask the Buddhists.

Eventhough a seemingly negative thing is actually an even better thing than the one that it supposedly negates.

2X's and 2 Currents

2005-08-15T11:24:00.000+08:00

It was an awfully awkward ride home.

The Situation.
My girl used to be married. According to her, the guy was some sort of a loser-bumb-asshole. I don't want to write the guy off without getting to know his side of it first.

Well, moving on, the guy has his new family with one more baby on the way. They' re staying a few kms from our place. The new girl also works near where we work. Fucking small-small world eh? In short, we practically see each other every other day. All 4 of us.

The One Day.
Me and my girl was about to go home the other day when we suddenly notice that her ex and his new girl are just one person behind us in the line. Jeesh1 How do we react? My girl's pretty much ok with it. Well, I'm not. I don't know about them though. We just pretend that everything's ok.

So we go on and ride the service. ALL 4 OF US. Me and my girl sit together while the ex's girl sits in front and the ex sits just behind my girl! Me and my girl go through this experience like nothing's wrong. But deep inside, there is.

The Aftermath.
Well, they get off earlier than we do. It's just so uncomfortable. I guess it is for them as well.

Reflection.
I'm expecting this to happen even more frequently because of the proximity of our work and houses. Might as well get used to it. Besides I'm not the one she left behind.

When Peeking and Typing Becomes Your Life

2005-08-12T18:05:00.000+08:00

My blog has been found out at work!

Dooce?

I hope not. The ones who read my blog are those that have one of their own. I guess you can say that we trust each other. It's like a bond between bloggers you know? You respect the blogger and his/her privacy. Most of the time we agree with what the other has written. I guess that's a good thing as well. If it ever comes to differences I hope we can all work it out.

Hey if you're reading this guys, hey! I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoy reading yours!

Haiku 1

2005-08-12T17:55:00.000+08:00

From many to one.
Falling down to the Earth. Splash!
From one to many.

Bionic Arms on the Side

2005-08-11T14:02:00.000+08:00

There's so many different things to do in my job that it may require me to attach 3 more bionic arms just to get through the day.

First off, I don't want to end up like a rant-o-matic blog.
Don't get me wrong. It's ok to rant and such but it gets to be a boring read
after a while. I WILL rant here, but it won't be with much
frequency.

Now on to my rant...ehem...blog.

I have three related jobs attached to my position: Staffing, Training, and Personnel Information Systems Specialist. I have a lot of routine jobs for the three. I have two-three big projects in each. And I'm supposed to finish them WITHIN the week. My boss always comments that I seem to have a lot of half-assed finished jobs. Well..DUH!

1) I am basically doing this alone. Yeah I'm getting paid well but come on! I sometimes have to switch back and forth between roles! "Multi-tasking" them only makes it worse! I want to strangle the person who ever thought of it!

2) I have a life. Yes. Unlike the people here at HRMD. I have a life outside this company. I have a lovely girl at home w/ 2 kids waiting for me. I have other interests besides encoding and interviewing, and filing, and researching ALL DAY.

3) I need to take breaks as well. Like I mentioned in my earlier blog about the golden goose, we need to take rests and breaks just to ensure that we still have enough energy to finish off the day.

Reflection.
I once heard an old friend of mine, that you should also manage your boss. It's time to manage the manager! Say "NO" when there's a bigger "YES" inside! Yes. I'm still going to live my life. Work life is essential to my development as a person but there are also other ways to further develop myself.

END OF RANT...EHEM! BLOG

Losing to Get the Gold

2005-08-10T07:42:00.000+08:00

I just got a huge raise today and I feel guilty.

After the Performance Appraisal the other day, my boss gave me a raise. It's a pretty good raise considering that I've fucked up most of the time. However, I feel guilty about it. It's like I don't deserve it. I need it, don't get me wrong. It just feels that I haven't done my best to get it.

There are a lot of people in my company that have been working really hard yet get paid less. For instance one of my co-employees in HR has been working for the company for five years, been doing overnighters three times a month and yet we have the same pay. I really can't help but feel guilty about this. I know that salary by tenure is a long dead paradigm and salary by competencies and output are in.

Reflection
Instead of feeling guilty I'm going to ensure that I deserved that raise. I'm going to work smarter and harder. Feeling guilty about it won't solve anything.

When You Speak, Do It With Your Soul

2005-08-06T15:55:00.000+08:00

My boss and I had a talk just a few hours ago.

The Relationship.
It's too formal at times. She would go joke around with the other employees but shushes us when it comes to her own people. It's really weird at times. Most of the time I would try to bring the other side of her out by stating some things. She would just shush me out. She would say things like, " I don't want to hear that from my own people." Yet she would go and laugh with someone at the same joke I made.
Sometimes being human with us seems to be a challenge for her.

The Talk.
We reviewed my Job Description. It was very uncomfortable. I know I've fucked up and she would just enjoy seeing me squirm. Eventually it seemed to turn out fine. I seem to have done MOST of my job well. Now comes the Second Part.

The Talk 2
She then asked me if there's anyhting I'd like to say. I told her that sometimes a little appreciation is needed to motivate an employee. Without stating it I told her that I needed it and she wasn't giving any. She said that the it's the company culture not to give it's employees the proper recognition they recieve after completing a task. If you finished a job, they view it as a fulfillment of a job requirement. She said I might as well get used to it. Fine.

No Wonders
No wonder most employees hate their bosses here. They don't sense a feeling of appreciation. Rather, instead of reflecting and appreciating a job well done, the management immediately pushes them off to the next crisis to resolve. There's no time to celebrate nor pat yourself in the back! By the time the're on the third project, these people seem tired and used up.

Reflection.
After my experience last time with the Big Company, I have to admit I'm pretty lucky to have landed this job. I might have to adjust to the people and culture here. I'll try to be a catalyst. Next tiem, i'll call myself The Accidental Catalyst. LOLZ!

A Sliver: A Black Smoldering Sun (INTERROGATION!!!)

2005-08-04T13:03:00.000+08:00

The girl was an insult dressed in white.

I went to the interview earlier.

The Place.
Big company. Big Expectations. When I got inside I was pretty much surprised. It was old, dirty, a bit smelly. Still I didn't let it get to me. I told myself that they must be under renovation
or something. The tables are all wooden and old.....the things you see in the government offices.

The Interview.
Sat on an old dusty chair. The interviewer was a well-rounded lady with a boyish cut. It began with the usuals:

Interviewer: Well, hello R what can I call you?
Taorist: Just call me R
Interviewer: Can you ...blahblahblah.

This is the part that really got to me.

Interviewer: 7 jobs in 6 years.
Taorist: Well, I don't count my first one because it was just an allowance
thing.
Interviewer: Still it's a job.
Taorist: OK.
Interviewer: Why are you job-hopping?
Taorist: I didn't mean to "job hop", as I said before, I chose to leave
those companies because of the reasons I've stated before.
Interviewer: Why did you apply for this job then?
Taorist: I applied for this job 7 months ago. That time I was pretty much
unemployed. You were the ones who called me.
Interviewer: Why did you apply here then?
Taorist: Well, compared to my present job I consider yours much more
successful and bigger. It would be an honor to work for you.
Interviewer: Won't you say that to another company in the future when you
get interviewed by a company that's bigger than ours? Is that the real R?
Taorist: No. I'm at the time of my life where I just want to settle down
with a stable company.
Interviewer: What if you found a more stable company?
Taorist: As I said before I'm at a time of my life where I would
like to settle down. When I was a kid I would try so many things. I wanted to
experience a lot. That's one of the reasons why I was "Job Hopping".

By this time I was just fuming. This was the first time that I felt that the interviewer was out to get me! If she was in a bad mood to interview, she should've just passed me off to someone else!

The Result.
Wasted time. Wasted money.

Reflection.
It made me realize that what I have is a good compared to what's out there. Instead of looking for a way out I might as well look for a way to make my life here better.

A Sliver

2005-08-03T15:00:00.000+08:00

Just a tiny sliver.

I have an interview schedule tomorrow with a big company. A REALLY big one. I hope it works out. Unfortunately it may be for a lower position than what I'm in right now.

I hope it's got better benefits.

When You Start Doing This You Know You're In Trouble

2005-08-03T14:38:00.000+08:00

Last night, I was in bed with a very beautiful, sexy, naked, loving, and graceful lady. And all I did was stare at the ceiling.

I'm in financial trouble AGAIN. Although it wasn't as bad as last time.

It's times like these that I suddenly turn impotent. No way to get my libido up. Even my GF couldn't do anything about it. I become an Ice Prince.

A lot of people around me have been talking about migrating to other countries. They seem to have given up any hope for this one. Thrice have they gone to the streets and deposed an "immoral leader", only to be replaced by another one. Because of that, prices for necessary goods have been rising and salary increases have been crawling slower than a snail.

I think I'm not the only one in this situation. I just represent the millions who are having a hard time right now. Maybe it's time for me to rethink about migrating to another country. But will I find hapiness there or further hardship? That's the risk most people are willing to take.

An Opening in Your Breath

2005-08-02T14:09:00.000+08:00

Writing has always been in my mind lately.

Eversince I began to write again, it's all I've been thinking. Before I sleep. When I wake up. I am seriously considering of following my dream to be a writer. I know I have a lot of things to learn (spellings, grammars, etc.). Yet I feel like a giddy child in a candy factory when I'm writing here. I would take every chance possible to write. It's one of the riskier jobs available in my country. The only writers I see succeeding are the ones who write those romantic novels. Even then they get paid pretty low.

Is it possible that this is just my way of connecting with my youth? A time where I was able to express myself without any social inhibitions. They would just let me ramble on. I would ask quite a lot of questions and there would be few answers. I was so interested in what the world was about.

Now, being twenty-something, I have gone weary. Disappointed with what has gone so far with my life. Yes, I have my beautiful darlings; they are the ligt in this storm of life. But for the most part, I seem to be stumbling and falling like a drunkard by the road. Everything's moving forward except me. I am moving but at a slower pace than I was thinking.

It's like swimming now. I would spend more time underwater-losing precious air-then just going up for a milisecond. An opening in my breath. Then going back down again. I'm tired of swimming.

I want to float in the air. Surrounding myself with satellites.

Burn Me Up When The Sun Goes Down

2005-08-02T14:02:00.000+08:00

I always liked sunsets.

It's like a little lady telling you that all your troubles are done and it's time to rest up. That's why I want to see the sunset when I die.

If I don't at least let me be bathed in its errie light. Then burn me. I want to be blown in the western wind. Ashes flying. I'll be in everyone's breath. Everyone's hair. Everyone's body.

The Golden Goose Would Like To Cut Off It's Head

2005-08-02T07:52:00.000+08:00

Yes.

The Goose that lays the Golden Eggs is currently experiencing constipation. The farmer has been wringing it's neck to make it produce eggs. Now the Goose just wants to cut off it's own head.

Easier said and even easier done.

It's just that the consequences for the Goose's family that's bad. They would be destitute; desperate. The chicks and the wife would die of starvation.

Nice story but true.

It's been that bad at work. The boss has been hounding me to do even more work without any respite or complements from past works. I have this feeling that she too is being pressured to do a lot. I understand that. I really do.

There would be so much work that I just shut down and do nothing. Procrastination. An evil word to most Self-help/Psychology authors and bosses. But to damn one thing without understanding it is just as evil.

There are a lot of times where I would wonder what would happen if I took up Creative Writing instead of Psychology during my College days. Is it too late? Can I still be a good writer after all this time of not writing? Is this what I really want? All arrows point to YES. Unfortunately I'm at that time of my life where a lot of people depend on me for financial support. Can I still afford to follow my dream to be a great writer while working at a stupid job? Almost all arrows point to NO. Shall I take the risk or just gut it out and just forget my dream? You see, I don't want to end up like the old men regretting not accomplishing their dreams. Beside, if I'm no longer interested in furthering my "HR CAREER", why the hell should I continue it? Wouldn't it be a waste of time and money? I'll just end all grumpy and demotivated.

Can I choose another farmer that I can serve? Who will take care of me?

Looking At A Voyeur's Eyes

2005-07-29T19:37:00.000+08:00

You have a blog don't you?

Yet you still look here.

Why?

Does the private thoughts of a twenty-something guy interest you?

Are you looking for sameness or differences?

Redemption or damnation?

Inspiration or demoralization?

All?

Our Lady Drugs

2005-07-29T19:27:00.000+08:00

She hangs her pain in the smouldering rain.
Then laughs at the stain on her cane.
"Give me some luck oh, Lady Jane!", she cried.
Walking and rumbling like an unecessary spy.

"Take me by the hand and feed me to the lions!"
"I agree with the beloved Zions!"
She slammed her fists on the floor,
Blood rushing in her head, wanting more!

Ahhh would it take another hit?
Witnessing sword to hilt
Breaking when it picks
Crystals in her pit.

My Wordstar Journal and Doogie Hauser M.D.

2005-07-29T18:34:00.000+08:00

I have been writing journals since I saw Doogie Hauser M.D. do it.

Yes. I am a Doogie Hauser Fan. I was always inspired by the things he wrote on his end-of-the-episode journals on his computer. In short, he inspired me to be a blogger. I used Wordstar as my word processor then. Unfortunately I lost it all when it got hammered by a virus. I nearly cried then.

My Wordstar Journal was an album of my 13 year old life. I would look over what I wrote a few months earlier and laugh, thinking I was so immature then. I guess I would be laughing at this too in a few years.

The Blanks That You Draw When You Write Are Just Right For The Picking

2005-07-23T17:20:00.000+08:00

I'm picking them now. The blanks in the middle of sentences and music make it much more comprehensable and logic. That's why most experimental musicians/writers/poets tend to go the other way in order to create beautiful chaos.

Silence allows you to reflect on things unreflected. Putting yourself out of time. You stand/sit on the moving world, unmoving. Not going or against the flow. Just.

The emptiness in your mind is but an illusion. Buddhists try to think of nothingness. Yet thinking of nothingness is something. It's the reach for the impossiblilty that gnaws in your mind.

Responses and Elation

2005-07-23T12:16:00.000+08:00

Wow! Just got my first response from MissMeliss! It's really nice that people appreciate your writings and experiences.

I've also been looking at other blogs and giving them some comments. I found some that are just like mine.

We are all different and the same.

Different in ways that we do things. Same outcome.
Different in the ways we view life. Same emotions and experiences.
Different in the ways we interpret other people. Same thoughts.
Different in the ways we deal with insecurities. Same insecurities.

Next time I see someone different from me. I see sameness.

Dawn Breaks Just as the Night Gets It's Coldest

2005-07-21T18:12:00.000+08:00

Now that I have some dough, it's time for me to payback some of the people I owe money from. I'm glad that I have some friends out there who will support me eventhough they too have their money troubles.

This is somewhat of a thanksgiving for the experience. It made me realize the desperation of people who need help. It also showed me that hope does spring eternal.

Dawn breaks just as the night gets it's coldest.

May all the Gods in this world and beyond bless them.

Just In Time

2005-07-20T19:12:00.000+08:00

An angel with a name like Evhonel lent us money...just enough until my Girl can get her salary. I'm glad that I didn't have to resort to stealing money. Am I just lucky or is someone up there REALLY listening?

I pray that all of you who need help receive it just in time.

Is blogger.com the new medium to God?

Theivery

2005-07-20T11:29:00.000+08:00

I have no more money. I may resort to theivery just so that my family and I can survive. I'm really just stopping myself.

I used my own money to fund for the food for a training program. It's big. The Accounting Dept. seems to have a hard time processing the budget so I used my own money. It's been over a week and my family and I have to pay the rent. We are quietly getting desperate. Desperate to the point of not going to work because we have no transportation money. We have tried asking for loans from other people. It has been hard. Most of the people around us are also strapped for cash.

I'm not doing this to get pity. I'm doing this for my sanity.

Shall I steal?

7 Habits for Effective People: Review/Tribute/Confusion

2005-07-16T15:37:00.000+08:00

Yes. I am a very big fan of the book and Covey. I've read it 4 times over and I always seem to read something new.

I admire the fact that you can have a wholistic life. You can be both a good employee and a family man and more. That life enrichment is a choice away. In this way he affirms Sarte and the Existential movement. However, Covey and Sarte diverges on the way they view choices. Covey sees it as an opportunity to create wonderful changes for oneself and the community while Sarte sees it more as a bother. In this case I agree more with Covey.

He seems to have a beef with Dale Carnegie. It seems that most of his "Personality Ethic" books are about Dale Carnegie. In the book he claims that these books sell quick fix-its/band-aids, rather than solutions. I wonder what the Carnegies think about this.

Organizing has never been my cup of tea. As per Freud---I' m Anal Expulsive. This book somewhat gave me a semblance of organization. I'm still trying to get there but at least I know that I'll get there someday.

Contributing to the community was never on my mind until I read this book. I was somewhat in a selfish mood most of the time.

Why the hell should I give back to the community that never gave anything
to me?

Now I want to help in community building. Maybe I'm not as influencial but I can do my bit part in this world.

There are times that I tend to backslide into my "Darkdays" moment. But still I want to rise up and be better--unlike the old times where I would squeal with happiness about being sad and depresssed.

Check out the 7 Habits website!

Hey if you like/hate the book maybe we can talk about it!

The 2nd Restart

2005-07-15T18:13:00.000+08:00

This is my 2nd blog. My other blog is in my friendster profile (which I'm not going to disclose). I want this to be my anonymous one. The one where I can post with wanton. Not afraid if my boss/co-employees/family members/friends read such rubbish. This is primarily selfish in nature. Aren't all blogs? Most bloggers I know write purely for themselves. They don't have deadlines, won't get paid; they do it when they want to, when they want to. It's a cathartic thing you know? It's a way to unleash emotions and thoughts. Therein lies the weakness of some blogs. They are soooo out there or soooo simplistic they will never be read by anybody else. What is a writer if there is no audience? Easy. The audience can be yourself. Selfish. It connotes a negative association but in someways it can be productive in its own right. Wow. I didn't even know Ayn Rand wrote a book about it. I'll probably give it a read sometime.

Well, there goes my first blog.

My objective in writing here: To use it as a cathartic device. To be able to post without fear of rejection or reprisals.