Sunday, November 27, 2005


Was really looking forward to covering the Ultraelectormagneticjam Eraserheads Tribute Concert on Tuesday and the MTV Aids Summit Staying Alive Concert on Thursday with Jay and Jhamie but it all went kaput when I learned that my shift for the next three weeks will start from 9pm. I asked my trainer if I can file for a VL atleast for 1 day (So that I will only problematize which event would I sacrifice), but she didn't approve. What with transition and all, everything is crucial.

Of course I understood, and my schedule is not THAT bad really, because of the hours, I would be able to get all the OT for the night shift...and Monday is holiday so, that's double pay and with Christmas approaching and plans of moving out early next year, I would really need all that money that I can earn.

But still...

Those would've been cool events to cover.

(*sighing wistfully*)

I'm not a happy camper this weekend.

Thursday, November 24, 2005

It's Over

It's all over on Yahoo News...Jessica and Nick have finally hit sad.

Tsk..tsk...celebrity marriages, they never last, do they?

Sunday, November 13, 2005


Anyone whose goal is 'something higher'
must expect someday to suffer vertigo.
What is vertigo? Fear of falling?
No, vertigo is something other than fear of falling.
It is the voice of the emptiness below us
which tempts and lures us,
it is the desire to fall, against which, terrified,
we defend ourselves.
Milan Kundera, "The Unbearable Lightness of Being"

I’ve been trying to fill up this void since the past couple of years. Mostly I was able to ward off the sadness that had enveloped me but there are still times when I just can’t shake it off. The ability to grasp pain, to finally crush it within my palm is still as elusive as it had been the moment the final goodbye had been uttered.

Isn’t pain that powerful? How can it consume and gnaw at every remnant and vestige of one’s being, leaving nothing but heaps of a carcass ready to be eaten by vultures. But you can never get a hold of it, oh no. It will trick you into thinking that it has retreated, that you won. But false bravado will never hold for long. What has been bottled up inside will soon burst out. And yes, there will be nothing but space.

Like the crescent-shaped bruises left at the back of one’s hand after being tightly clasped, the bruises may disappear but the sharpness of the nail digging at your skin is enough to make you re-member.

The need to touch something alive is sharper now.

The hunger brought about by the years of wanting is more acute.

But the deal was shook upon. It was offered to me and I accepted. There was no other choice then. Either way, it would still have been the same. I'd still be living this wretched life for years to come. Watching silently as each hand I grasp pulls away because they cannot withstand my deathly-cold palm.

I live, but not really living. Despite the throbbing pulse, there are no other signs of vitality. Maybe in death...there will be.

Thursday, November 10, 2005

Chizmosas and Possessed Elevators

One bleary morning, I was on my way home, riding the LRT. I was more tired that morning because I passed by the publishing house first to pick up some magazines and cheques after the shift so my head was lolling like a grotesque puppet doll against the train's glass windows. Somewhere during the ride I was shaken out of my stupor when this Chinese family entered the train designated for women. There were four of them, the mother and father plus the two daughters that looked like they've been pulled out straight out from a Koreanovela or Asianovelas or whatever the hell you call them these days. They caught everyone's attention immediately because they started yakking in their native language and you know how loudmouthed Chinese people can be even during ordinary convo so everyone was staring at them, trying to mentally shut them up or maybe just out of plain fascination.
When they alighted at R. Papa, I knew immediately that their destination was the Chinese North Cemetery to probably visit some relatives from mainland CHina that migrated here and died or, you know, whatever. But before they went down, they were admiring the view of the kalachuchis in full bloom and the grand mausoleums from the LRT so they were chatting excitedly like monkeys and pointing and stuff. And then, some uziseras and chizmosas who were passing by, actually stood beside them to see what the ruckus was about kinda like when you're in the mall then you look up and point at something how everybody would look up too. Its so amusing yet irritating at the same time. Sheesh.
- - -
Brace yourself for this scary mother story...
Since I started working, I hated my location from the get go because its this really old, rickety building in Makati called the Insular Building. Fortunately, we only have to stay there during the duration of the training after which, we might transfer over to RCBC plaza, or the one in Ortigas, or hopefully, the newly constructed Convergys building beside Makati Med.
Anyways, since the building is really old they are now renovating the lobby but still the building smells and looks old with stained linoleum floors and creeping elevators, hence, a sinister-like quality surrounds it.
One rainy Friday night, our trainer was nowhere around and we have been bumming around for over tow hours when we were summoned over to the 6th floor (we were staying on the 4th) to join this other class while passing around the time.
When we got up there, I realized that our batchmate we called "Mommy" went down to the bank and therefore, does not know where we are so I told Gracie the trainer that I'll fetch Mommy myself. I was waiting for the elevators, lost in thought because of the unbelievable low salary I got when the third elevator opened.
I went in, punched four, still ruminating on some trivial stuff that I cannot even remember anymore when I realized that the elevator went up and stopped on the 8th floor. I thought that part was really weird since I WAS sure the elevator was supposed to go down but what freaked me out was when the doors opened, there was only empty space and UTTER DARKNESS on the other side! I somehow managed to throw my orange shawl over my head (blocking my range of vision) and furiously punching the CLOSE button while muttering all sorts of prayer, incantation, and swear words while trying to prevent myself from collapsing in fear.
The last thing that I remember was that the door was jerking like something was trying to enter or something was stuck in the middle before it finally closed and descended to my destination. As soon as I was inside my trainingroom, I was so visibly shaken and even now that the incident happened almost a week ago, I still feel the fear. My heart still pounds a mile a minute whenever I remember the darkness that loomed before me.
Apparently,the same thing was also experience by most of my batchmates abut Ate Tess, the operator for elevator one, claimed that the elevators were programmed to go up at the 8th floor.
At first we believed her, but then we realized that if it's really programmed it should stop and open at EVERY floor but how come even if the arrow is pointing down, it still goes up to 8th floor?
We also learned from other occupants that as soon as the clock strikes 5 pm, 8th floor occupants desert the area immediately on the dot. No one EVER stays there for OT and by 6 pm all lights are shut off by then, so why should they program the elevator on an unoccupied floor?
But the most terrifying thing is this, our trainer told us that the daughter of the building's owner committed suicide during construction and when she jumped from the 12th floor, she was decapitated, where else, but on the 8th floor.
Jeepers. Just typing that gave me the shivers all over again. I'd better sign off now. Shit.