The Effects of Being Rejected for Employment

I’ll keep this short since I don’t have much drive in me. For about three months, I’ve been sending CVs, going to interviews, and taking tests. I told myself that feeling disappointed after getting a rejection letter was normal but as more rejection letters kept pouring in, a cesspool of depression began to build inside of me. It wasn’t the companies’ fault that they rejected me, and it isn’t even my fault that I was rejected. “I just wasn’t good enough.” That thought found itself in the crevices of my brain wrinkles, and it was pure poison.

This poison couldn’t be stopped. It was the truth. Doing my best wasn’t good enough, and there are an infinite (well not really) amount of people who are infinitely better than me.

I went to a job interview a week ago with high hopes of getting accepted. I got there early, an hour early. There was a 7 eleven nearby so I decided to grab myself a cup of hot water with soil and milk. Sitting there and staring out the windows with dozens of people whizzing by made me feel alone. Everyone needed to be somewhere because their work told them to do so. I was a stationary rock with an affinity for hot water with soil and milk. I threw the joe away and made my way to the office. All my confidence had mysteriously disappeared.

I saw an acquaintance from uni at the office, and my stomach began to churn. Needless to say, I got rejected. The interviewer told me upfront that I was just going to be frustrated in this workspace. I will never forget her words, “You’re so young. You’re like 24? 23? And yet you look so weathered out.” Lady, you don’t know the half of it.

At the elevator on the way out, my friend asked, “What are you going to do now?”

I drew a blank. I didn’t know what to do next. “I guess I’ll just go home then.” I said.

I was so depressed that I didn’t even hug my friend good-bye. I just waved and walked away. Each step I took to the bus station was a pang to the chest. My teeth began to grit, and my hands turned into fists. The poison had hit me hard. On the way to the train station in the bus, I broke down. I just started crying. I covered my face with my bag but everyone could hear me. The only thing I could think of was, “Why wasn’t I good enough? Why am I not good enough? WHY WHY WHY? FUCK!!”

For 20 minutes, I cried in that bus. For 20 minutes, I tried to hide my red eyes in the train. For 20 minutes, I cried at home.

Rediscovering Self-Love: The Girl

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I got my grade from my professor, and I’m fairly happy with it! If only I submitted my final paper on time, I would’ve probably gotten a 3.5. Well, I can’t really bend my grades in my department nor would I want to. Anyway, this means that I can go ahead and write with a clear and relaxed mind! Unless I fail in German4, that would just be crap.

SO! Let me tell you about this girl that I insanely like and have lost attraction towards after one evening. She’s the type that people would ignore at first sight. Were you thinking of love at first sight? She’s pretty much invisible, until you let her speak or until she wants to speak. She’s extremely intelligent, probably the most intelligent out of our entire European Studies batch. I’ve known her for a year, but I’ve only gotten to talk to her this year.

I told my friend, let’s call her Tänzerin, about this newfound attraction of mine. Tänzerin knows my type of girls that I’m attracted to: very Asian looking, extremely pretty, extremely white–basically Japanese, Korean or Chinese girls who are overly attractive. This girl whom I am insanely attracted to, let’s call her Dil Pickles (Rugrats, for those who don’t know,) is the total opposite of my usual Asian-white-girl attraction. Continue reading “Rediscovering Self-Love: The Girl”

Baby Come Back

Guess who’s back in the blogosphere? That’s right! Me! So Imma make a post in a couple of hours about a relationship I have with this girl, rediscovery of self-love, and Buddhism. I’m officially on vacation now, so the amount of posts will rocket! It’s great to be back! It’s great to be able to write what I want once again. Baby, I AM BACK.

 

I Was Doing Well Until You Came Along

Remember the girl I had a dream about, the one with the cherry blossoms and stuff? I kinda have this problem with her. Ever since that dream, my mind has been filling up with her likeness, and I honestly can’t stop thinking about her. For a while it seemed that I finally found THE person. I was a bit happy whenever I thought about it. Then, it just got out of hand.

It (not she, because she didn’t directly cause this) was beginning to negatively affect my performance at uni. I had a long ass time to think on how I was going to deal with this. It was difficult since she doesn’t know how I think about her, nor does she know that she’s causing all these internal aggravations. One night, I texted this to her (parentheses notes are not included in the text):

I need you to stay away from me for a while. I’ve started doing this (the staying away part) all ready. You’re literally on my mind 24/7, and I seriously cannot handle it. It’s all ready beginning to negatively affect me in my academics and my workload in the BSG (batch student government) doesn’t help either. It obviously isn’t your fault since you did nothing, ‘though that is the pleasant irony of it all. I’m not sure if I do want to tell you the specific reason as to why I’m doing this. If you really wanna know, I can give you two options: a) buy load (since she never has any credits in her phone) and ask me, “Why?” In which I would gladly reply, or b) ask (insert name here), he probably still remembers what I told him. Continue reading “I Was Doing Well Until You Came Along”

Der Philippinisch Charakteristische

I have Filipino blood. My family is Filipino. My family’s history (pre-birth of me) is very Filipino. Yet there is one thing I cannot understand. When Filipinos face adversity, they always find a way to smile. So, taking a stab in the dark here, most of my readers here might be Filipino, and they know what I’m talking about. But if you aren’t Filipino, I’ll give you a little background.

Currently, Metro Manila is experiencing an extreme downpour, and it’s causing massive flooding. The picture above isn’t a river, it’s in a middle of a city.

Here’s a news article

Here’s a video:


More videos here
For non-Manilans, Recto underpass is a 4-lane (or 6-lane), 3-story deep tunnel. So yeah, that isn’t a canal or a river, it’s a road.

And here’s what some Filipinos do when they have free-time (these are all in the city):

Continue reading “Der Philippinisch Charakteristische”