Ideas, as many a mind produces, are worthless if stale. They rot, ill with boredom, and remain uninspired that only divine intervention could take them out of mental limbo. And here I am, neither stuck in the open spaces of ingenuity nor in the confines of incapacity. Just there in the middle, flotsam-like, moving along the grains with no effort.
It doesn’t feel good.
To complain would be the worst thing to do, especially that in order to sustain the earthly things materializing in front of me twice a month, I just have to sit all day long until spiders visit me and build houses inside my head. To request, on the other hand, seems to be too coercing and besides, I once requested a minor change in the system and it took weeks to see the currents moving. Wait! It should be take weeks, present tense, because until now the waiting continues.
So what’s left right now, if ever I do have possible choices, is to yield. To Yield. Just do what’s supposed to be done and the waters will carry on, ebbing smoothly into the vast unknowns. Belch! Sorry, this food has bad aftertaste.*
See, there’s the fight against putting taxes on Coca Cola drinks in the US, the father beheaded by his own mentally-deranged son in Capiz, the tandem of Manny Villar and Willie Revillame for president and vice-president respectively in the coming elections, the skyrocketing sales of Dan Brown’s latest recycled popcorn, the upcoming December issue cover of Oprah Winfrey’s O magazine with Ellen Degeneres on it, the personal mission of finding the perfectly-structured white button-down shirt, and most of all, the movie of Vilma Santos with John Lloyd Cruz and Luiz Manzano as a gay couple, but why am I here? Why am I thinking like television reruns, like used underpants, like soap suds on the bathroom floor? Stone me to death but I repeat, why am I here?
Batuhin mo man ako ng bato o tinapay,
tatanggapin ko, wag lang crac…
I am not compelled to keep this abstract burden rested on my shoulders but let’s just see what happens next. Three more months or, if I can still hold on to my patience and sanity, intact and functioning, nine more and then off I will fly away to rainbow’s end. As of now, I am as stale as yesterday’s breakfast rice.
*clears throat at the side
2 comments:
You seem stressed out but coping. Still good for you. We get by rationalizing things around us... finding the hows and whys of life. I try to be thankful sometimes. It starts off dumb (coz it starts zero) then proceeds to actual things to be thankful for. And about the system? I became the dutiful subordinate. Then was entrusted to assist. I assisted like my life depended on it. My superior caved in and recommended me. I took the chance. Did my best as I practiced being thankful. My thought on this is if we can't change the system where we are, there's always a way to change it from another level and what perfect level that is when it is on your level.
Yes, I am coping. As of now, everything is bearable but just plain and dull; like platinum without the shine. But I am still thankful of this opportunity, I just wish I could find that level you’re talking about and hop on it as soon as possible. Dreariness is not my thing.
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