The Count of Monte Cristo has Died

There was this girl who helped put me back in my tracks a few years ago. No, this isn’t my ex or the Japanese girl I used to talk about.

Anyway, this girl once told me that my anger towards my father is going to consume me one day. She said that revenge isn’t going to solve anything, and it isn’t going to bring me closer to what I want. She also told me that if I successfully delivered suffering, people would seek revenge on me. The cycle would only continue.

I ignored her advice for the longest. From 2009 to 2014, that anger towards my father was what kept me going. I wanted to go abroad, learn all the skills needed to deliver as much suffering as I possibly could, earn staggering amounts of money, change my name and appearance, garner influence, and come back as someone else.

I wanted to be the Count of Monte Cristo. He was my role model for executing the perfect revenge. I would imagine myself laughing at my father while he polished my shoes. It was the sense of power over someone that got me going. I loved the idea of being better than my father. I wanted to show him that he amounted to nothing.

Continue reading “The Count of Monte Cristo has Died”

Not Understanding Happiness

Social media has made it really easy for me to peek at people’s lives. I just found out that one of my high school classmates is pregnant with a boy. Knowing that sort of thing would have been impossible a couple years back. Anyway, that isn’t important. I’m here to talk about happiness (again).

I don’t understand how some people can inherently find happiness in everyday life. I don’t understand how they can easily be happy. When I look at them, they’re full of joy–actual joy. It seems like it just happens on a whim for them.

I, on the other hand, have to make sure I do all the things I need and want to do in a day to feel a bit happy. I work SO FUCKING HARD just so I can feel some joy in me. If things don’t go as expected, it’s difficult to push through with the day.

You might be thinking, “Well, of course, things won’t go as you’d expect. That’s life!” No. No. No. What I’m talking about is everyday happiness. The thing that people describe as the “Small things in life bring you joy.”

I have to plan my day. Do the things I need to do, and maybe, just maybe, I can get some happiness by the end of the day. You heard me right. I plan for my everyday happiness. Why? Because I don’t know how those people, who inherently find happiness in every fucking nook and cranny, do it.

Everything I do, I do to make myself happy. I don’t get given happiness like most people. I work for it.

Giving in to Social Pressure

A few weeks ago, my mother and I decided to visit this new supermarket 15 minutes from where we lived. I have a thing for groceries. There’s a certain way how products are placed. Each display entices the customer to buy something that they don’t need. It’s this placement of products that interests me.

Our original plan was to go food tripping in UP Town Center, the new place for food, fashion, and other things. Katipunan is known for its variety of restos and cafés. It’s literally a university town, and most of the students are from wealthy families looking for a dish or cup to satisfy their taste buds.

We crossed to St. Marc Café to get some appetisers. I suggest you order their matcha latte and the matcha Daifuku Chococro. Those were AMAZING.

We walked in and out of shops, looking at stuff we would never buy. I saw a Fujifilm X-T10, and the price made me realise that it almost costs as much as my mother’s surgery.

I mentioned earlier that a lot of the students come from well-off families. Classes were canceled that day (I think) and a number of them went to UP Town. I dressed pretty normally and pretty decently, decent enough to blend in I suppose.

The only thing I ignored were my shoes. I wore Crocs that day, not the obviously hideous ones that everyone hates (I own a pair and still use them btw) just a different type.

I don’t know why but I was overly conscious of my feet. Was it because it had holes on the sides to allow easy breathing? No. I hate closing off my feet to the air, so having my trotters tread true was the least of my worries. What was it then? Was it the shoes themselves?

I caught myself looking at these students’ shoes. Adidas, Nike, Reebok, New Balance, Puma, Onitsuka. Canvas, synthetic, leather. High-top, low-top, slip-on. Red, white, blue, yellow. As I saw more and more of these amazing shoes, my feet felt more and more naked.

I knew no one cared about what shoes I was wearing. I knew no one was looking at my feet. No one was telling me that I had terrible taste in casual fashion. Yet the sensation ate me away. Invisible eyes were ridiculing me of how stupid I looked. It felt like I was transported back to when I first arrived in the Philippines, a person who chose to be different then outcasted and judged.

We walked into a sneaker store with shelves on shelves of NBs that I’ve never seen. One pair caught my eye. It was simple, comfortable, and not that heavy on the wallet. I love NB; I think NB makes the best-looking sneakers. I’ve always wanted to buy a pair, but stores never had my size. This store did. So I bought them.

I love the style, they were fairly “cheap,” they were simple and unobtrusive (which I look for in a shoe), and super comfortable. But I felt guilty. I felt guilty buying these shoes even though the only con was that I spent money. I bought them because I wanted to feel good. A social anxiety coupled with nakedness fueled by a materialistic solution gave birth to this guilt.

I took a picture of the shoes I bought. I don’t know why I did it. Probably because I felt so good. I felt so great that I didn’t realise I had created an emotional crutch. I wish I had bought these shoes under better circumstances. I feel guilty yet safe each time I wear them. It’s like alcohol really. It comforts you and kills you.

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Blue Sky and White Clouds Mused Me

This is my last term DLSU. Yes, I am opening this blog entry with the idea of leaving. For the past months, that seems to be theme I’ve been living in. Goodbye academic world and hello working world! Please take it easy on this unemployed fresh grad with zero professional work experience. Wouldn’t that be Utopian?

Thesis and internship invaded so much of my personal life that I haven’t been able to finish three books since the start of the year. My mother’s finished four books in a month! I drowned in a sea of envy during my “thesis writing sessions” when I saw her reading on the couch whilst drinking tea. Since thesis is done, I get to read my book during breaks at the office.

Interning is giving me some rather interesting things to think about. A few days after I started, I rode a jeepney to said company, and the driver was this really jolly guy. He had friends everywhere along the route he drove. His smile revealed rotting teeth but he wasn’t afraid to show his happiness he created along that route of his. It hit me that this guy, someone who’s probably never gone through college, high school or even elementary, is happier than I am. I pretty much have everything I could ever need–opportunities for a better future. Yet this guy has found the happiness that I’ve been trying so hard to find. Sure enough, he’d be happy if he had a better paying job. But I think he’d miss the people.

Anyway, I have 3 weeks, 3 day, and 5 hours left in my internship. I hope something interesting happens.

I’m perverse. You always knew, but I’m saying it.

My chest was invaded by pieces ever-expanding shards of ice. What was happening to me? I considered that a long shower would calm me down.

My invader liquefied into a thick hot stream of satin which coursed my arteries till my heart realized it was drowning in adrenalin. I felt so hot, unstable, and dizzy that the wall that protected my naked body from the outside quickly became a mother’s embrace while my shower head continued to rain on me. I tried catching my breath; I say I tried because I only got worse.

I relinquished myself to my veiled invader, not knowing what it was that made me concede. I concluded that I was longing for someone. Why? I thought. I don’t know why, but I wanted it. Of all the people I’ve been with, fell in love with, kissed with, held hands with, gazed eyes with, caught scent with, touched skins with, and shared silence with, there was only one in my mind. I had an unnatural desire to have her.

My synapses sparked for her when I had seconds for myself. This time was different; she just wouldn’t disappear from my head. Continue reading “I’m perverse. You always knew, but I’m saying it.”