Pink Crimson

Newfound foe-slash-bitch

01-29-2009 Friday

Finally! The looong week is finally over. I can't believe I still made it this week albeit feeling slightly lightheaded due to sleepless mornings, I feel..quite alright.

I won't bore all of you with the details of my boring long week but I'll just provide some highlights. Yes, even a boring day has it's miniature rainbows.

First, some updates about my newfound egoistic friend. Well, he doesn't text as often as he did last week which is fine. Ok, I lied. I'm not cool with that! That's part of the reason why I'm bored inspite of the calls on queue that we've received this week. Another thing, they (he and his teammates) have a 3day training so I'm not able to see him throughout the day.

Aside from a newfound friend, I also have a newfound foe-slash-bitch. She's this cute little lady with innocent looks and she is the perfect proof of the saying, 'looks can be deceiving'. What happened was one of my teammates gave me a supervisor log-in that we can use to help each other process some orders since we don't have a supervisor around. One of my teammates asked for it to process an order so I walked over to him and typed it out. Surprise, that little bitch happened to pass behind us and she was like, 'Oh wow! You have a supervisor override? That's great!'. I should've known she was being sarcastic.

The next thing I know, she informed that incident to our team's operations manager (the bitch is the operations manager for the other shift by the way) and voila, our own operations manager asked me for an explanation. So I did explained. Before I'm done, she cut me off because she has to do something so she said that she'll just talk to me after the shift.

Goddamn. I've been in enough trouble already to know when I'm about to get into one. I seriously thought that my ass is in trouble right then and there. However, after the shift, we didn't get the chance to talk since they had a meeting and until earlier, nothing serious happened to me or my job (haha) moreover, the incident remained unspoken. Hallelujah, I'm saved.

Another lesson learned. Never trust an innocent face because it doesn't mean that they're harmless. Most of the times, the sweeter the face looks, the more they stink on the inside that they can just snap off and chew you up until your skin seperates from your bones.

Tsk tsk. To think that I used to have a crush on that lilliputian chick! Now, she's nothing but a character on my deathlist.

They're trying to kill us

01-24-2009 Saturday

Saturday (Supposed to be Rest Day): 10PM-6AM
Sunday: 10PM-9AM
Monday: 10PM-9AM
Tuesday: 10PM-9AM
Wednesday: 10PM-9AM
Thursday: 10PM-9AM
Friday: 10PM-9AM

That ain't the operating hours of a night market or a bar. That schedule is MY work schedule for this week. If it wasn't for the fact that I just held back my resignation because I love the company, I would be bitching about it as of this time.

Yes, as hard as it may be to believe, I'm pretty okay with my schedule. I'm already counting the amount of money I'm gonna get for those overtime hours. Instead of just tormenting my brain at home, trying to think of ways to entertain myself, I'd rather be at work and earn some extra bucks.

Of course, some of us can't help but think like, 'Are they trying to kill us?'. I wouldn't be surprised if two or more agent will just drop dead on the floor due to exhaustion and lack of sleep. If you're not used to those awfully long hours or if your body is not really cooperative, you'll die with eyes wide open.

Fortunately, my entire body system is fully prepared, ready and hungry for money. Damn, you gotta feel yourself burn with need for money in order to make it through. Number one motivation for us agents: the money, baby! I just hope they will not screw us up on payday so please, help me beg every saint you can think of to avoid disputes on our payslips. Amen.

A Guy's ego is bigger than his balls..

01-23-2009 Friday

It doesn't take a very smart girl to realize that boys are the more egoistic gender. Trust me, I've proved that countless of times already and if I have a dollar for every egoistic guy that came my way, I would've been a very rich badass chick right now.

If some of you will misunderstand this as a boy-bashing blog entry, it's your own personal judgement but allow me to say that what I'm writing is just the bitter fact about boys. They'd rather fuck themselves than have their ego get crushed to tiny bit-size pieces.

I'm not a guy-hater or anything like that, matter of fact, I like boys. They're good friends. They know how to compliment a girl. They're fairly okay until they act different and seems like they're hitting on you. Now I'm telling all you females, beware of guys that seem to be hitting on you especially if you're aware that the guy is taken. Sometimes the reason behind that is not because they find you attractive but because they wanna know the actual size of their ego. Be really careful with boys like that. Play along, flirt if you like, but never ever fall for them because if you do, you're doomed.

Take it from me, girls. There's this colleague of mine who started texting me a few weeks ago. Prior to his texts, another colleague informed me that this guy is crushing on me but fuck that, I ignored it. He said he wanna be friends so I said that's fine, I'm cool with that. We exchange text messages every now and then and eventhough we barely have things in common, I enjoyed our conversations. He seemed to be hitting on me in a way but I shrugged it off thinking that it couldn't be possible since he has a girlfriend. Oh and yeah, I have a boyfriend and he knew it.

Yesterday, we had lunch together and I must admit, he's really interesting. He will pass for an older brother and I actually call him 'kuya' and I'm his 'bunso'. After lunch, when I came back to my work station, he texted again asking me what kind of guy I like. I replied very briefly. You can just imagine my surprise when he said, 'Too bad but the guy you're talking about is already taken'. So I said, 'Who the hell?', and he said, 'You're texting him right now.' Wow. Talk about a humongous ego!

I like him, he's kind and all but my mistake is that I nurtured his goddamn ego, feeding it without knowing until it has become so enormous that it hid the nice guy in him who first texted me.

Yeah. Lesson learned.

We still exchange messages but this time, I keep my replies uninterested or bored. He has to know where he stand and his ego need to flatten up a bit so everything can go back to normal.

The Ateneo experience

01-18-2009 Sunday

What's with all the fuss about Ateneo? Sure sure, it's one of the university titans in the country, it's a prestigious school, it's the home of the blue eagle and all that blahblahblah. As for me, I hate schools like that. Schools wherein to be able to pass, you have to have an IQ above 200 or more. Ok that's an exaggeration. It's just that it's so hard to passs on those types of universities yet, a lot of students still wish to get accepted.

I'll be a hypocrite if I say I don't want to study on a school like Ateneo but I can't help but roll my eyes everytime I hear about the entrance exams are hard, this shit that shit. Why can't they be like other schools and accomodate even the not-so-intelligent students? I mean, that's part of the reason why we study right? To transform ourselves from dumb to educated persons.

For schools like Ateneo, they seem to only want a genius to study in their school grounds. Well, the more I think about it, the more I consider that they are not so competent afterall. Come on, open up those little peepers. It's definitely easier to mold a soft clay than a hard one. It's easier to teach the above average students than those average learners. Fuck them and their impossible standards. Fuck those people who'll kill just to get accepted. Fuck those who think that the university where you attended determines your mental abilities and your ability to be considered for a high-paying job.

Why am I shooting these word bullets at Ateneo? You see, I took the Ateneo entrance exam (ACET) earlier today and boy, I think I just lost half of my brain. The English Proficiency, vocabulary and other english exams are a piece of cake..but MATH? Trig? Algebra? log, sin,cotangent,tangentshit? I have to bit my lip to stop myself from laughing right there and then inside the room where we took the exam. I want to laugh because I've never felt so dumb in my entire life! (Yeah, this is worse than the UPCAT). I tried to do some computations but fuck it, I suck so bad at Math. Math problem solving? That's crazy! I can't even solve my own problems!

It's funny though, trust me. You should've seen me do some eenie meenie mini mo on the answer sheet. You should've seen me create an October calendar on my scratch paper because of a certain question that goes like this: I save P10 in October 1, P20 in October 2, P30 in October 3 and so on, how much is my total savings by the end of October if October has 31 days. Damn it, talk about being totally screwed up.

If there's something I prayed for earlier, it's to get everything over with so I can get back to the usual me, wearing a loose tshirt, typing in front of the computer and just enjoying my day-off. Ahh, the simple pleasures in life that I enjoy are still immeasurable.

Well, I'm glad it's over. Uhh, can I get half of my brain back?

Goodbye to the ashes

01-17-2009 Saturday

I spent my weekend on my aunt's house in Posadas Village, a posh subdivision for the wealthy human beings. Every once in awhile when I visit my aunt, I get a royal treatment there. Her house is huge, and filled with everything that only rich people can afford; a bathtub, air-conditioned rooms, a flat screen TV that's as huge as those on movie theaters,a laptop with original and licensed software, maids to serve your food. Well, yeah we can say that I'm trying to make some of you jealous.

Everytime I'm there I can't help but think that I should be enjoying this wealthy lifestyle every friggin' day if only I choose to stay with her. That means I have to leave my gramma and mom and that's something I can't do. I chose the people who raised me up and took care of me since then over those material things. I should be getting a martyr award for this or something. Nah seriously, I'm fine with being poor. I'm free. I can do whatever I want. No restrictions. NO curfews! (sheesh that really sucks). And more importantly, I'm skilled to survive even in the worst of the worst. Something that is earned throughout the years of famine, insults and failure.

Putting those aside, the reason why I'm here at my aunt's house is because today is the burial of my grandma on my father's side. She died in Canada, was cremated there and my grampa brought her ashes home to the Philippines. She went home...even in the form of ashes.

The burial was held at the Heritage Park, somewhere in Taguig, I think. It sometimes sucks when you're in a car, you're not aware of where you are, you just get there. It's sort of a reunion as well since our relatives from wherever arrived there. I have to go through a lot of kissing in the cheeks, greetings, handshakes and small talks of "how's it going?", "wow you've grown a lot!" and so on.

It ain't easy. Aside from the fact that these relative of ours are filthy rich, I'm also having a hard time moving around. I blame it on my sleeveless white blouse and fitted black pants. Yep, you read it right. Sleeveless!! Horrible and disgusting. My arms are not feminine and I'm not used to wearing something that exposes the underarms! Oh Jesus. you could just imagine how the sweat on my underarms are killing me! Not that my underarms are dark and hairy, they AREN'T!! I just prefer them being hidden under a sleeve because that's how they're supposed to be! Heavens, I hate underarms.

Anyway, I was pleased to see my Tito Bobet at the burial. God, it's been years! The funny part is that he works in a call center as well and we work for the same account, not the same company though. He's a customer care rep, I'm with sales. We talked about work, about calls, about customers. I feel like I was at work then yet surprisingly, I didn't cringe. The conversation just went on smoothly. Guess that proves that I don't hate my job anymore.

A mass was held before the urn containing my grandma's ashes were buried. We threw flowers just like what they did on movies. (Hey, this is my first formal burial so bare with me). Afterwards, there's this small buffet for us to feast on. Man, talk about good food. I feel like a hippopotamus that I can barely move by the time we drove home.

Argh! I just remembered! Too bad I didn't bring my camera. Sorry. No photos.

The verdict is IN

01-15-2009 Thursday

I'm staying. Yeah, you heard right from the mouth of the same girl who used to bitch about her job..me. I just figured out that I love this job, the company, the people around me (with a few exceptions), the office..everything. I want to stay. Damn. Funny how I have to file a resignation letter first before I realized that.

This isn't the right time to quit. Fuck, there is NO right time to quit. You just gotta go out there, fuck those losers who get in the way and keep the fire burning. I'm still waiting for that fire to burn hell inside my veins then I can shoot out fucking fireballs at work. In other words, my manager said I need a few days off..a vacation. To sort of find the fire inside. To put off the pressure hanging on my shoulders. That's just what I need. A fucking vacation. Not a fucking resignation.

I'll take a few days off, that's for sure but I won't leave nor resign. I'm already here. This ain't a place for namby-pambies, this is dog eat dog, survival of the fucking fittest arena. I've learned a very important lesson about not giving up what you already have just because you feel screwed up and I will definitely keep it etched inside my complicated brain in case I might need that in the future as a cure from overdosed frustration.

Now if only I could find a cure for my inconsistency. Hmm.

My Sentiments make me look like shit

02-13-2009 Tuesday

Just when you thought you've already planned everything in life, life gives you a hard kick on your backside and everything else seemed to have turned a 360 degrees on you. All you can do is stand back as it all erupts in your face.

'This is all a joke' I chanted to myself as I went home from work, suddenly feeling a twinge of longing. Surprisingly, it's the kind of longing for my workplace. What the fuck is happening to me? Just yesterday I was jumping with glee because I can resign and now, here I am, after my manager made the resignation letter for me and submitted it, I somehow feel like I'm leaving the place that has became my second home.

It maybe a stressful environment and all but I have to admit, the comfy seat in the office is something that I'll miss sitting on. That's the seat where I first learned how to work, to socialize with people whose way older than me, to have a goal, to have a dream to pursue, to gain self-confidence and knowledge about the tricky do's and don'ts of your career. I maybe pissed and frustrated most of the time but it also molded me into the strong iron-clad girl that I am today. The workplace, inspite of being run by greedy bitches and cocksuckers, turned out to be a sanctuary in a way. A place where we comfort each other when we miss our sleeping families that we left at home. A place where we've celebrated birthdays, christmas, new years and other important holidays while taking stupid calls. A place where we find solace in each other's company, warm hugs and cheerful laughs as we try to distract ourselves from the calls that never fail to give us a shitload of headache.

Shit, I'll miss them. The people who work hard at night and drink beer in the wee hours of the morning. The people who knows that queuing is similar to death penalty. The people who loves to toggle the almighty Aux. The people who fakes the American Accent and delivers dumbass punchlines and bloopers while doing so. The people who picks up their own homephone and says 'Thank you for calling blah blah..". The people whose dreams, goals and hardwork are evident each time they pick up the headset, take a deep breath and start to take calls again eventhough at the back of their heads, they just wanna fuck work, go home and get some much needed sleep.

I've come to love those people. I've come to love the thick supply of tissue at the bathroom on every floor. I've come to love the monitor that I used to punch everytime I lose my thin thread of patience. I've come to love the nasty, same-as-always food at the pantry. I've come to love the cold aircon at the office eventhough it seriously freezes my ass. I've come to love staring down at the view of Pinoy Dream Academy and Pinoy Big Brother house from our 5th floor office. Geez, I've fallen in love with the company afterall.

It's over. I have two weeks to go and I'm out of NCO for good. I've resigned. The letter was signed, submittted and approved. Surprise, surprise, the resignation letter is prescise; it really does pain me to leave the company that has helped me grow. I've always thought that a resignation letter is a fat lie that you'll tell the company to suck up for the last time, but in some cases like mine, I am the very essence of those words.

Finally!

01-12-2009 Monday

The word that I've waited so long to say, "finally".

Yesterday was like any other boring Sunday except for a news that made me almost wanna head straight to work and proudly shout, "I'm resigning! Fuck you all!". Here's what happened, when my mom went home after exchanging the gift cheques that my aunt gave us, she told us that my other aunt called her and informed her about the job that they've talked about. For the past few days, my nother has talked to her old friends and some of our relatives for a job for her since I'm gonna study this year and I'm just simply pissed off at work that I wanna resign and flip the middle finger at their faces. According to her, my aunt said that everything is set, all she needs to do is prepare the requirements before they meet this coming Saturday. It's also my grandma's (father side) burial so I'll also be there.

Yep. She's gonna have a job and I can QUIT. Ahh, resignation. The light at the end of the tunnel. The sun behind the dark gray clouds. I never thought that the word resignation will have such impact on my vocabulary skills.

For the first time after a long long time, I'm finally excited to go to work not because of wanting to be there. Instead, I will ask help from my colleagues to write a resignation letter so I can submit one later. Haha yeah you heard it right. I dunno how to write a resignation letter. I've read one before and I know that it has to be formal and a bit melodramatic like it breaks my li'l heart to part from this company and all that crappy fakeness. How I wish I could just cut those bullshits, not beat around the bush and write this straight out, "Hey, I'm resigning so for all of you who made my life here at work a living hell, fuck you. I swear I'll never set foot in this lousy department again so that I won't see your greedy shitty faces. It's been fun though, but hell, I fucking QUIT." The perfect resignation letter for me, ain't it?

Nah, as much as I would like to write that, I can't. Gotta leave a good impression anyway for future reference, know what I mean? Gotta fake one last time for old times sake. Hey, I'm getting pretty good at it so no biggie. See you somewhere in hell, bitches.

Meet-Up

01-10-2009 Saturday

So I was dealing with a seller of this Japanese Spitz pup, thanks to this online buy and sell site. She turned out to be a sweet little lady when my boyfriend and I met with her earlier today at Market! Market! in Taguig.

I've been searching for pups for sale since as you all know, I'm looking for a furry companion. That's why I am so pleased to find her advertisement on that site. Cute Japanese Spitz puppy at a reasonable price. Sweet.

We met at around 2 in the afternoon and she brought the puppy with her just like what I asked her to so we can see what the pup looks like.

The puppy is the first thing that I've noticed because it was on the table with a small hanky wrapped around him. No doubt that the girl patting his white fur is the seller so I smiled at her and sat beside her.

As I've mentioned she's a sweet little girl and on those few minutes that we talked, I knew that she's no scammer. A girl's guts, you know. We chatted for awhile to get to know each other and we set the date for the next meet-up so I can take the puppy home with me. I gave her the money for the reservation fee and bid goodbye.

On my way home,as I rode the jeepney with earphones stuck in my ears, I felt good. I felt like I've found my new companion. I imagined the puppy in my head, small, fluffy and white. I imagined my Seifer, small, fluffy and brown. The thought of my Seifer made my eyes watery. Just in time that the song playing on my MP3 switched to that of Jordan Hill's 'Remember Me This Way', I tried my hardest to not let the tears fall. Good thing it's already dark and the jeepney's lights are low so the other passenger's did not notice my painful recollection in this very unlikely place.

And so I wonder how long will it take before the tears can completely wash away the pain, guilt and regret? I don't know, do you?

Extremely busy has become my middle name.

01-07-2009 Wednesday

Argh, I so hate it.

If you think that call center is all about sitting in a comfy seat inside an air conditioned office while talking on the phone, then you've never been so wrong in your entire life. Sure we get to seat in this comfy chair, on an air conditioned office while talking on the phone but there is definitely so much more than that. I have some news for you, our life is not as easy as it looks. Not even close.

Let me give you an insight of what it's really like.

I must admit that before I used to think that call center is probably the easiest job I can think of. I've proved that wrong the very first time I take the very first call. Right then and there when I'm just sarting out, I wanted to quit and just forget about the whole thing but I simply can't. I need the freaking job. So I stayed and surprise surprise, I'm almost two years at it.

You probably think that I should get used to it by now. Jesus, the hell I'm not. How will you ever get used to something that first of all, ruins your body clock? How would you feel waking up in the middle of the night while everyone else is just starting to change into their nightgowns? OR walking out in the street, all groomed and ready at 1 or 2 oclock in the freaking morning? Crazy, isn't it? Hey wait, we're not even on the good part yet.

I'll take you now to the core of our job. Taking calls. The motherfucking, burning core..almost literally. Ever experienced getting exhausted from talking on the phone after like what..an hour? Now try talking on the phone for 10 merciless hours. Talking on the goddamn phone with different types of foreign people you don't know. People who are oftentimes, racists, irate or just plain nitwits. Hell, I lost count on how many times I've punched the computer monitor and the keyboard from too much frustration over a call.

So, here comes the good part. After outbound sales got dissolved, we're all dragged into this inbound sales blackhole that no one can't get out of. To be honest, I thought that inbound is as easy as breathing. Customer calls in, orders a phone, we process, ta-dah we're done, how is that so hard? I WAS SO WRONG. It's not all the time that they call in to order. ANY type of call can be received here and it's waaaay out of our control.

Of course, the so-called gods in the office will not accept ANY pathetic excuse that you tell them. You did not make a sale because of the shitty calls you're getting? No fucking way for them. It's your fault, you're worthless, you can leave the company thank you very much. Harsh as it may seem, that's just how it is. The bitter truth is most companies are like that and call center is not an exemption. Employees are nothing but fucking cashcows.

Another thing that sucked in this job is when the entire department is on queue. The motherfucking calls just won't stop! Call after the other, you don't even have time to breathe, to drink something to moist your dry as hell throat, to blink, to move..Not a chance. Not your kind of paradise, eh?

To sum it all up...I'm tired. Absolutely tired, exhausted and on the verge of giving up this job. I will quit once my mom gets a job and I'll go to college instead. Fuck, studying is definitely bearable compared to working. I want to have my normal life back. I want to go to college. I want to sleep at 9 in the evening and wake up at 10 in the morning. I want to stay at home during weekends and holidays. I want to face the computer and deal with blogs and online forums instead of these fucking system tools at work.

Shit, I can't wait to get outta here.

Still trying to cope

01-05-2009 Monday

Yesterday was horrible. I can't even remember how I've fallen asleep. Must be from too much weariness. You see, remorse visited me yesterday since I was alone at home. I did not ask for it, but it stayed nonetheless. Stayed until I'm exhausted from too much distress.

I cried and cried because I'm aching all over. I kept on remembering that yesterday is the same day last week when I went out instead of heading straight home to take care of Seifer. Sundays will always remind me of the time I wasted. The last day I carried Seifer in my arms and held him. The last day I felt his warm fur. The last day I force fed him so he can eat. The last day I stared into his suffering soft brown eyes.

I must've looked miserable and close to losing my mind yesterday as I sat down on the floor and
talked to the emptiness in front of me, assuming that Seifer is sitting there with a hopeful gleam in his eyes.

Damn. I thought being alone can help me heal my wounds myself but apparently, I can't. I've been denying that fact for far too long now so I guess it's the time to finally face it.

I desperately need someone's shoulder to cry on. Someone who really understands. It's hard, you know. Not a lot of people cry over their pets. Most people think of pets are just animals. Merely animals that need to be fed, groomed and taken care of but once they die, that's it,
they find another pet and the cycle starts all over again. Stupid people. I have this thought that animals deserve to live more than people does. If I'll be a butcher, I'd rather slaughter worthless people than harm any animal.

Now maybe you'll think that all I'm frustrated about right now is the death of my dog. Hah. Lemme tell you, I'm more complicated than that. Out of all the mishaps that usually happen to me, Ichoose to write about this one because:
1. I love my dog like a real human family member
2. I don't want this to look like a segment from Wowowee where people spill out their problems about their damn lives for all the world to hear.

As I've said in one of my previous post, this is not me so please bear with this theatrical posts of mournings for now. Given enough time, I'll be back to my old cheerful, optimistic self.. hopefully.

Bitter cold

01-04-2009 Sunday

Darn it. The holidays are over and the only thing that's left to remind me of the holiday season is the bone-chilling cold weather that enveloped the surrounding. It is always colder in January than it has been last December and I just heard it on the news that the cold will last until February. Great. The weather seemed to match my sentiments these days.

God, it's so damn cold outside, I need to wear thick clothing to make it alive at work. I was surprised that I did not froze to death awhile ago when I took a shower.

So yeah. After battling the cold, here I am at work battling with stress. Then when I go home later, I'll be battling with longing and I'll be downright pissed off because things don't go my way. God, there really are times when you don't realize how your life sucks until it has been shoved in your face.

This is not me. I mean, what you're reading is not written by the normally happy-go-lucky tough cookie. This is written by someone else. Someone so frustrated. Someone who's about to give up but just can't. If there's one thing that I've perfected throughout the years of my existence, it is hiding that other side of me who's weak and easily taunted. I push it far beyond my insides so that her weakness will not get in the way. Though sometimes, I can't control her when she claws her way out to the surface. She does that when things get unbearable or when I get tired pretending to be strong.

Yes I am tired. Tired and weary. I don't usually complain because if you know me personally, you're already aware that I live up to the belief that no one has the right to complain no matter what they're going through. Complaining is similar to blabbering without doing something. More talk, less thoughts. That's absolutely shitty. That's why I'm trying to stay as positive as I can be and if what I'm about to say is a complain about my stinking life, I shut my mouth and deal with it myself. It's just excruciating to sometimes deal with this alone.

Companion, anyone?

Continously searching

01/03/2009 Saturday

Searching for a distraction, that is.

Today is another day for me to search for something that will hold myself together and not think about the beloved companion I just lost a few days ago. It's so hard. Especially with the things that kept on reminding me of him.

I'm afraid of getting home from the Saturday worship service because I miss the sight of him, greeting us once we opened the door. I miss hugging him. I miss the way he erased the stress I have for the day when I went home from work. I wonder if I'll ever get over this feeling of longing. Maybe I will but a part of him will always be with me and I'm not letting that go no matter how painful it is to hold on.

Boring Saturday. Then, later I have to work. Sucks. Work and not get any sleep. Sucks. Get home from work and not see my Seifer. SUCKS.

If guilt could kill.

01/02/2009 Friday

I woke up in the morning feeling less heavy inside. Is it because I'm starting to move on? In a way, I'm relieved but somehow I can't be all happy about it.

I don't want to forget my Seifer. I think I'm afraid to move on because I'm afraid that if I do, I'll forget about him. I still miss him. I still long to hold him in my arms and kiss his wet nose. I visit his grave in our backyard and I still weep silently, especially at night when it's dark and I'm alone. Melodramatic psycho, that's what I am.

Nothing really happened today. Well I wasn't expecting for something anyway. What did happen is my bestfriend's brother, Kuya Fed, visiting us and of course, he looked for Seifer. This is something that will take a while for me to get used to. To answer questions about Seifer. The familiar pain and longing always come to the surface whenever I talk about it. I really have no choice but to tell him what happened.

Kuya Fed and I talked and he lectured me on things-I-have-to-know about dogs. I listened quietly trying to hide the guilt and regret that's already building up inside me as we talked. He also told me that if only he has visited us last Sunday when Seifer is still suffering from the sickness, he'll be able to save our dog. He said he'll make Seifer puke to release the toxins on his body. Damn. I should've known that he's knowledgeable about dogs. I should've remembered that we've already talked about dogs before. Should HAVE. Stupid me for not remembering. Stupid me for being out last Sunday. How stupid.

I wanted him to stop talking about it but at the same time, I wanted to listen more so that I'll be informed about some things I should've known. He said that he'll give us a puppy once their puppy is old enough to be seperated from the mother. A new spark of hope flickered inside me. A new puppy. A new life. A new family member. I remembered that my gramma told me that she doesn't want another dog for a pet but if we'll be given another one, I think I can risk to try again. Though I know that no dog can ever replace our Seifer.

This day ended with a dark cloud of guilt hovered above my head. If only guilt is a physical thing, it'll be a rusty knife cutting across my chest, making me bleed to death.

Yeah, if only guilt could kill, I should be dead by now.

My new year celebration (warning: it'll bore you to death.)

01/01/2009 Thursday:

Did the clock just hit 12:00?

I went outside for awhile to light up some fireworks but I ended up suffocating from too much smoke so I had to went back inside the house. It took me more than an hour to regain my normal breathing.

Then that's it. That's my new year celebration. I didn't go to my friend's house where they're all expecting me. I texted them,reasoned out, apologized then went to bed. My insides are still in pain and I closed my eyes to savor it before I drifted to a troubled sleep.

I told you it's boring.

No Happy Ending

12/31/2008 Wednesday:

I dumped work. Screw them.

I cried myself to sleep again yesterday so it didn't surprise me when I have a hard time opening my tired, puffy eyes in the morning. As much as I would not like to wake up and face the longing and pain for this day, I have to.

After attending the early morning worship service, my gramma and I headed straight home. When I opened the door, I have to again fight back the tears welling up in my eyes as I imagined our Seifer, wagging his furry tail and jumping up and down to greet us. It's just in my imagination. In reality, the house echoed in the unfamiliar silence that I'm not used to. Empty. Hollow. The painful void inside me began to eat me up again so I had to search for a distraction.

Good thing my gramma has to go to the flea market so I offered to join her. She bought fish for our cats, I bought a gallon of ice cream, hoping that the coldness of it will numb my insides.

Funny how once a year, there's a time when everyone's so damn busy with preparations and everyone has this stupid smile plastered across their faces, as if there is no such thing as famine and world economic crisis. It's cool, you see and I should be one of those morons who can't stop smiling and greeting everyone they bump into a happy new year. Well, I'll pass up on that. Count me out for now. I prefer grieving.

Once at home, I busied myself again with preparing graham's cake. Better make myself useful while mourning, right?

I know I'm getting pathetic but what's left for me to do? I'll tell you all a secret. I'm not as tough as I pretend to be on the outside. I'm not all rocks and stones. Matter of fact, I'm a fucking marshmallow and I cry easily. I just learned to pretend so that the bullies will leave me alone. Not only the type of bullies that tormented you during high school. The bullies of the real world, if you know what I mean.

Throughout the day, there is no hint of the sun above the skies. There's only huge cotton candy-like clouds and it's been drizzling. I can't help but think that the sky is mourning with me. Good. Cry with me. Trust me, it feels good somehow.

I waited for the New Year in my bed, curled up as I stared blankly at the TV. That's all I can do after eating some of the foods we've prepared. I can't find any reason to go out there and celebrate with our neighbors. Absolutely no reason. I know that I'll feel guilty once I celebrated because it's like I haven't lost my Seifer just 2 days ago so I think that it's too early to move on and be happy and I also know that what I'm thinking is bullshit. My grieving will not resurrect my Seifer back to us but then again as I've said, I prefer grieving and I haven't moved on yet. No. I'm still in pain, regret and denial, Those three feelings surround me like a big bag of crap tied to my chest and I know that it'll take a while before I can free myself.

The weird thing is that I don't wanna speed up the process of what I have to go through to finally face acceptance of what happened and move on from there. It's like I wanted this pain afterall. Did I ask for it? I dunno. Maybe.

Jesus. Sometimes I can't even figure myself out.

This is a no happy ending. I stared at the clock. The countdown for 2009 will end in a few seconds. I'm leaving 2008, but I still chose to carry the pain with me as a new year approaches. Pretty smart, huh?

Misery keeps me Company

12/29/08-12-30-08

I remembered, just a few weeks ago, I was speaking with my colleague when I told her that I long to feel the pain of getting my heart broken because I haven't felt that for quite sometime now. She gave me this weird look and said, 'what do you like about the pain?'. I shrugged, 'I dunno. I think I just missed feeling it. It's been all too well for me when it comes to relationships and I broke a lot of hearts already so I think it's time to get my heart broken this time, for a change'. She shook her head with a knowing smile and the conversation ended there.

Now, a few weeks after that, here I am, suffering from a broken heart. Wow, so much for getting what you wished for. Though, this broken heart is different. Not the type of pain that you get from break-ups or getting dumped. This is a pain of losing a very dear family member. I've lost a very special friend, companion, loved one, and the source of joy in our household. He's been everything to me, to us, all rolled up in a fluffy fur. Yes, he is a dog. Our dog. I know that not a lot of people will understand you for crying over the death of your dog but those people who don't understand are bigtime idiots.

Seifer, our dog and my younger brother as I treat him since I'm the only child, died early this morning due to viral infections. Death is a horrible thing. It leaves the inevitable pain of denial and regret. Today is the hardest day for me, trying to cope with this pain, faking a smile while trying to sound okay at work.

Nothing will ever be the same at our house again. I could never look under my bed without missing his soft, brown furs spread out on the floor. I could never look at our doorway again without feeling a huge lump in my throat because of the absence of his leash tied on the doorknob. I could never walk outside again without people asking where that cute little dog is because I don't wanna talk about his death. I could never look at the fresh soil in our backyard which served as his grave without feeling sick in my stomach because I can't bear the thought of him, dead and decaying under. It's all too much for me to bear. I cried myself to sleep earlier, and when I dream, I dreamed about him and I cry again in my sleep.

Aside from denial, regret is killing me as well. I can't help but think that there's more I should've done for him to keep him alive eventhough my gramma said that we've done all we could. We even brought him to a vet which is not typical to us since we're concerned with the cost of it but it is Seifer, our baby that we're talking about here so I never had any second thoughts to spend a few bucks if that'll lengthen his life. I also regret being out yesterday when I should've just went straight at home after my work to spend time to tend my Seifer. If only I should've known that'll be his last weekend with us. I was so happy with the time I've spent with my friends yesterday that I should've been aware that being happy too much could change to sadness afterwards and that's where I am right now.

I'll definitely miss my Seifer. He's a bouncing fluffy ball of sunshine and boy, he does love to be around people. When we walk him out, he practically smiles and greets everyone with his wagging tail and twinkling hazel brown eyes. No amount of money can compare to the amount of joy he brings us everyday.

Now, I feel nothing but emptiness, I hear nothing but the ear-splitting silence at home. There is a huge void inside me that throbs in pain along with my heartbeat. It is terrible. I want to stay at home to sulk and drown myself in the loneliness yet at the same time, I don't want to because there's just too many things at home that reminds me of him. The bowl where we used to feed him. His leash with the blue collar and a little bell on it. The smell of him on our blankets. His teethmarks on our rubber slippers. The scratches he made on our walls. It's just all too much to bear. It's just too empty without him around.

I want to forget but at the same time I want to remember. When you're in pain, you tend to remember the good times and it hurts to remember. It's breaking me to pieces everytime I think of going home and there's no one who'll jump up and down, anxious to greet me and lick my face. The pain throbs severely in my veins because I can't imagine not being able to hug his small, warm and fluffy body, not being able to kiss his cold, wet nose, not being able to run with him like crazy during our afternoon walk, not being able to see his body literally become a fur ball when he takes a dump, not being able to see his bizaare but cute acts of craziness that has become the reason of unabashed laughter from us.

Another thing that hurts me is seeing my mother and especially my gramma grieve. They love him as much as I do and it's like we're three portraits of misery, trying to hold on to each other for support. Trying to find the strength to start over again. When we buried him, my gramma told me that she doesn't want another dog for a pet, and I silently agreed because we're both thinking the same thing. We've all grown fond of him that it takes a lot of emotional strength to let him go without losing our sanity. He died with all three of us around him, holding him. If there's one last thing I wished were all able to show him, it's the love that we've felt for him and how he changed our lives during a short period of time. He died with his eyes open due to the pain of the disease that he has experienced, but when we closed his eyes, he lie there on the ground, withered but a peaceful look of content is evident on his face.

It is the morning of the 30th of December now and I'm still writing this, pouring my beaten up heart all over. The pain is real, raw and every nerve endings on my body feels it. I'm tired of crying but I feel so vulnerable right now that tears will easily spill with just a mention of his name, with a whiff of his scent or with just a glance on his vibrant pictures on my computer. I can't believe it's only yesterday that I lost him because I feel like it's been a lifetime since yesterday and I'm missing him so damn much. I don't even know how to face the New Year celebration tomorrow. It's just not the same. It should've been his first New Year with us. 'Should've been', one of the painful things that you have to deal with for every loss. You'll always think of the things that should've been. Things that will remain a 'should've been' but will never be.

I'm pretty damn sure that this misery will keep me company a lot longer than I'll allow it to, but hell, I have no ways of avoiding it so, if you need to find me, I'm just right here..wallowing in my grief. The tears just won't stop falling. I know I have to let him go but I'm not ready yet. I'll let the sadness linger on for a little while and maybe..just maybe, when the time is right, I'll get out of this blackhole and start fighting again.

Some bitches are lucky

Why is it that some bitches are so lucky? I mean, look at them, they're selling like fucking monsters. Hungry fucking monsters. Now what about me? Here I am, cursing every shit call that I receive. Why is it so hard for me to sell now? Sometimes I can't help but think that if it wasn't for that fat son of a bitch, I will still be in good shape with this selling game. I know I sound childish but that's what I really feel. I'm fucking pissed at that bastard and almost everyone else
around me for that matter. It seems like everyone's goal now is to bite your head off to get on top of you. God knows, I'm trying my best not to be drowned by those bastards and whores but the calls don't wanna cooperate with me.

The worse part is that they don't accept you reasoning out that the calls you've received are nothing but crap. It's just not possible for them. Yeah, right. Can they for once, take calls for us? Even for just 30 mins? So they'll know what it's like. So they'll 'remember' what it's like.

Shitty calls.
Shitty people.
Shitty fat four-eyed guy.
Damn, I need to get outta here as soon as fucking possible.

My hatemail for you, Fatso

You're so righteous, you think you're a god?
You think, just because you no longer take calls like we do, it makes you more superior than us? Well I have a news for you, your shit still stinks worse than mine. Yeah. Know why? Cause you're a pathetic thumb-sucking, mommy-calling jerk.

I know my mistakes. I commit them over and over in hopes of trying to save my stats. I know the rules and policies. Call me stupid for trying to make a living in an unfair (*eye rolling) way but hey, life's unfair isn't it? Woopie. I also know that NO MATTER what I say, it doesn't justify the things that was accused to me. I'm losing the fight that I'm not prepared to get into. No words needed. I am, as what they say, guilty beyond reasonable doubt. Honestly, I'm totally fine with the reason why I'm being citated. Honest to God (if you have a God). What I'm ranting about is the fact that I WAS THE ONLY ONE CAUGHT BY THAT SAME MORON WHO SEEMS TO FOCUS HIS FOUR EYES ON ME. I wanna kick his behind and say, "what the fuck did I ever do to you?? Do you despise me just because I'm not fat as your lousy ass? Man, that's fucking insane!". It's just that I want to get some of my colleagues in trouble, don't get me wrong..but hell, it'll be nice if we all go down since we're all on the same ship at once aren't we? I'm not expecting for any justice since justice is way out there hiding behind the black clouds. What I want is for that tub of a lard to get off my fucking back. Like, gimme a break! I aux here, he calls me, I aux that, he calls me, I aux this shit because I'm about to fucking piss, he FUCKING CALLS me!! GIVE ME A FUCKING BREAK, fatso.

Why blog? (Yeah. Stupid title for intro, I know.)

This is how it all began.

Writing is already a part of me. Whenever I pick up a pen, I peel every layers of my skin to be able to write my thoughts. Writing has become my way of releasing the personal demons that haunt me every now and then. I'm a psycho, that's for sure and I believe I need a shrink to get me back to my senses at times but as much as I would like to undergo psychological treatments, writing seemed like a better option for me, not to mention that I don't have to spend any money for this.
Writing is more than a passion for me. It is my escape. My sanctuary. Whenever something gets too much to bear, I turn to writing. Whenever I'm about to scream out in pain, I turn to writing. Whenever I try to explain but no one listens nor understands, I turn to writing. God, I don't know what I'll be now if I can't write.
So there. I hope that explains why I have created this blog. Whether you understand it or not, I don't really care. I'm doing this to keep my sanity intact. I'm not a writer since I'm not that good..yet. Right now, I'm simply someone who chose writing over grabbing a gun and shooting the hell out of everyone in sight.