Wednesday, November 17, 2010

rant to write

prolific. not.

i can’t write. nothing is happening worth writing about. even memories evade me.

rut. this is.

i wake up, and go through my day like it was pre-ordained. i work like a janitor fish. i clean up others’ shit and call it management advice. i do this and look at their grateful faces for the dirty work i do that somehow they think is a step forward toward their salvation. i do this all day everyday. in between, i do my own work and put it up for scrutiny of my control freak boss whose bottom-line i’m still trying to figure out after 3 years. i endure backhanded put-downs and brush-offs i know i don’t deserve.

i try to spice the hours with stolen moments of cheekiness. i check social networking sites and personal mail, thinking – ‘hey, this is getting back at you, i have a life outside of this.’, knowing full well that no amount of status’ likes will make me like the sad android that i evolved into.

when i can, i resort to bourgeois diversions. i order my dark mocha frappuccino believing that the slightest nuance in choice reflects my individuality. i have heartfelt conversations with friends over coffee or beer and regurgitate oprah or any other appropriate hollywood line, silently congratulating myself how clever i am. i go to the gym and pay for a trainer half my age motivate me to becoming more fit – not knowing that the rot is not in the flesh. i collect shoes, cd’s, dvd’s, tshirts and graphic novels and more and more feeling suspicious that this amassing of material things will not fill the vacuum in my soul. and then i smirk at how hopelessly superficial other people are.

i go home and project all my frustrations to my partner who has certainly contributed in a good share of it. i watch him pour his umpteenth drink and lament that while his intoxication provides nocturnal relief, it never really takes him away from his troubles. nor mine.

there. i got it out of my system.

trusting wholeheartedly (because oprah said so, or was it a hollywood movie?) that by letting off steam i can wax ms. congeniality again.

perhaps now i can write about truth, goodness, light and all those affirming introspective shit again.


kawadjan said...

Award! I love this post. But please don't question your shoe collection. I don't see anything else worthwhile. (Yes, you can smirk at me.)

I want more emo posts, love.

Mu[g]en said...

We have our ways of coping up, yours is cutting edge. Hehehe!

kiel estrella said...

@ kawadjan - glad you like it. i can never smirk at you. i'l put in your direction instead. *kiel pouts*

@ mugen - is it cutting? or sounds like a man on the edge? haha

pat said...

i agree with kawadjan, but for me it's don't question the CD/DVD collection. you write pretty when you're emo. not that i wish more kaemohan for u. sad yun.

kiel estrella said...

@ pat - awwww. sweet. my writing is pretty and you don't wish emo moments for me. parang hindi na si pat ito when he's so positive. (haha) lab na kita talaga. go team pat!

Kane said...

Hi Kiel, I have been trying to find time to write my thoughts on what you said. Alam mo, I don't know you very well, but I have always observed an air of boredom or detachment (or both) around you.

It's quite strong, actually. Again, it's just how it comes across to me, it's an impression and I could be wrong. Parang life has become less of an adventure and more of a chore? I'm not sure.

I hope you feel better after ranting. I am not going to tell you what to do, because I'm sure you know better =)


kiel estrella said...

@ kane - ouch! sinabihan na rin ako nyan noon by somebody i hardly know. sa akin, hindi siguro bored. mas jaded. at hindi detached - mas unenthusiastic, sa pagod na rin siguro. but i can see how this can come off as bored and detached. (besides, even the jaded and unenthusiastic still smack of a 'wet blanket'.) let me reflect on that.

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