Thursday, June 27, 2002
Man, I'm wasted.
Last Tuesday, someone gave me 12 Million bucks to spend. For a project. Big project.
For the past 2 days, I've been training people who have been in ther refinery far longer I have, on new ways of doing things. It was fun, but it caused my email to clog up because of the amount of undone stuff.
Ten minutes ago, I was seated in a meeting with a colleague, our boss, and my boss' boss, discussing our presentation material to our boss, boss boss, who's coming over next week. During that meeting, I think I may have seen and heard and learned about things that I don't think I'm supposed to know, yet. Bottomline is, the world is going to the dogs.
Two weeks from now, I'll be on Engineering duty for one whole weekend. On a long 3-day weekend.
For the past few days, my mind has been screaming for rest. I think I need some form of retreat. Enjoy the world, stop caring about costs, stop thinking about that damn problem with that machine I installed 3 months ago. Stop caring about the fact that it hasn't worked well since then, and I've been getting complaints every single day. I need a break before I start working on that 12 million peso project. I need time away from it all. I need a break. I need to break all these patterns that makes me lose sight of my dream of getting paid well, with low-level responsibilities, living a simple life.
Last Tuesday, someone gave me 12 Million bucks to spend. For a project. Big project.
For the past 2 days, I've been training people who have been in ther refinery far longer I have, on new ways of doing things. It was fun, but it caused my email to clog up because of the amount of undone stuff.
Ten minutes ago, I was seated in a meeting with a colleague, our boss, and my boss' boss, discussing our presentation material to our boss, boss boss, who's coming over next week. During that meeting, I think I may have seen and heard and learned about things that I don't think I'm supposed to know, yet. Bottomline is, the world is going to the dogs.
Two weeks from now, I'll be on Engineering duty for one whole weekend. On a long 3-day weekend.
For the past few days, my mind has been screaming for rest. I think I need some form of retreat. Enjoy the world, stop caring about costs, stop thinking about that damn problem with that machine I installed 3 months ago. Stop caring about the fact that it hasn't worked well since then, and I've been getting complaints every single day. I need a break before I start working on that 12 million peso project. I need time away from it all. I need a break. I need to break all these patterns that makes me lose sight of my dream of getting paid well, with low-level responsibilities, living a simple life.
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Wednesday, June 19, 2002
Floppy Divac
Last night, I spent most of the evening playing NBA 2k2 on Sega Dreamcast. Was using the Sacramento Kings, and I almost won off an offensive foul called against Steve Smith driving through Vlade Divac. One minute Vlade was aggresive, and as Smith came driving, he floppped and got the offensive foul call. Too bad Mike Bibby didn't sink the potential game winner.
Last night I think I pissed off a friend. I don't exactly know why, I have an idea why, but I guess that's the same reason I wasn't able to get the signals all those girls have been trying to send me throughout my college days. I was too dense, still am. Always will be. I still believe on the dogma that "assumption is the mother of all fuck-ups." I assume I said something wrong to her. And although I still don't understand her reasons, I apologized and sent her pieces from our favorite poet.
Yesterday, I got pissed off by someone from work. I emailed a response to him, emotionless, cold, almost ruthless. This morning, I can't even stand the air of conflict between us. The other day, a mechanical engineer and an electrical technician were arguing about a motor. It almost caused me a nervous breakdown. can't stand the conflict, itching to be the mediator, the peacemaker that I have always been.
Five years ago, some girl broke my heart. I grieved terribly, as if all the misfortunes of the world suddenly collapsed and cascaded to trample my heart to pieces. A week later, I called her up, and when she asked me to forget her, said no. I told her, with all certainty and anger and pain and turbulence, that I never will. I will always harbor my hatred and never forget what she did to me. Last week, we were texting, emailing, doing all I can to help her with her woes, even as she's married. I've forgiven her, and in fact, still giving so much of myself to the one person who has hurt me so much.
Today is my dad's birthday. Two years ago, I was hating him for deserting his responsibilities as a father. Today, it hurts me to remember that he's alone, now that we've deserted him. How I wish this day would just pass, so I won't be harboring all the guilt and pity I now feel with the complexity of our situation.
Two days ago, I was writing about contemplation as crap. Today, I'm contemplating. Dissecting the intricacies of life's ironies, and the turning points of fate.
Divac flopped. I flopped. Divac's team lost the game. Am I going to lose the game as well?
Not if I make the fates flop.
Last night, I spent most of the evening playing NBA 2k2 on Sega Dreamcast. Was using the Sacramento Kings, and I almost won off an offensive foul called against Steve Smith driving through Vlade Divac. One minute Vlade was aggresive, and as Smith came driving, he floppped and got the offensive foul call. Too bad Mike Bibby didn't sink the potential game winner.
Last night I think I pissed off a friend. I don't exactly know why, I have an idea why, but I guess that's the same reason I wasn't able to get the signals all those girls have been trying to send me throughout my college days. I was too dense, still am. Always will be. I still believe on the dogma that "assumption is the mother of all fuck-ups." I assume I said something wrong to her. And although I still don't understand her reasons, I apologized and sent her pieces from our favorite poet.
Yesterday, I got pissed off by someone from work. I emailed a response to him, emotionless, cold, almost ruthless. This morning, I can't even stand the air of conflict between us. The other day, a mechanical engineer and an electrical technician were arguing about a motor. It almost caused me a nervous breakdown. can't stand the conflict, itching to be the mediator, the peacemaker that I have always been.
Five years ago, some girl broke my heart. I grieved terribly, as if all the misfortunes of the world suddenly collapsed and cascaded to trample my heart to pieces. A week later, I called her up, and when she asked me to forget her, said no. I told her, with all certainty and anger and pain and turbulence, that I never will. I will always harbor my hatred and never forget what she did to me. Last week, we were texting, emailing, doing all I can to help her with her woes, even as she's married. I've forgiven her, and in fact, still giving so much of myself to the one person who has hurt me so much.
Today is my dad's birthday. Two years ago, I was hating him for deserting his responsibilities as a father. Today, it hurts me to remember that he's alone, now that we've deserted him. How I wish this day would just pass, so I won't be harboring all the guilt and pity I now feel with the complexity of our situation.
Two days ago, I was writing about contemplation as crap. Today, I'm contemplating. Dissecting the intricacies of life's ironies, and the turning points of fate.
Divac flopped. I flopped. Divac's team lost the game. Am I going to lose the game as well?
Not if I make the fates flop.
Comments:
Monday, June 17, 2002
Shiver me timbers...
Too much contemplation can lead you to disaster. You try endlessly to find the meaning of life, you try to ask yourself, dig deep inside the dungeons of your consciousness for the reasons for your existence, and chances are, you'll realize sooner or later that life isn't about thinking it, but living it. Life is probably a journey, or probably a destination, or maybe a stop-over. But whatever it is, it's just too damn short to spend most of it thinking. You take a train, and enjoy the sight, the cold beer at the counter, the sweet smile of that pretty lady seated beside you, you look around and play peek-a-boo with that young tyke two rows ahead... In short, have a great time while you're there. Hey, there's no friggin' way I'm wasting the trip thinking about why the damn train is needs a railroad track, or why my ticket says I should be seated at the wrong side of the coach, or why that bloke on the right side of the coach is better-looking than I am. I'm not wasting my time on all that crap. I'm making the most out of this trip. (Besides, the lady beside me doesn't seem to have company... )
I have to admit, I've been through that phase. When I was younger, I'd wring my brains out trying to figure out the reasons for my existence. Well. I'm out of it, and boy, am I glad to have gathered enough sense to save me from myself. Ask any engineer, and chances are, you'll be told that practice is much much better than theory. Life is about living it, and not trying comprehend it, and dying still trying. Yes, it helps to know why things are the way they are. But if the probablities of understanding the why's of life is as slim as seeing the assholes in government go to jail, then there's no point in sulking.
Now, what the hell am I doing here... Contemplating? Okay, so shoot me... Life is also about breaking your own rules from time to time...
Hey maybe I should stop. My stomach's aching for dinner. My fingers are getting restless for my do-or-die game with my friend, fellow NBA 2K2 addict. I'll use the Lakers this time...
Too much contemplation can lead you to disaster. You try endlessly to find the meaning of life, you try to ask yourself, dig deep inside the dungeons of your consciousness for the reasons for your existence, and chances are, you'll realize sooner or later that life isn't about thinking it, but living it. Life is probably a journey, or probably a destination, or maybe a stop-over. But whatever it is, it's just too damn short to spend most of it thinking. You take a train, and enjoy the sight, the cold beer at the counter, the sweet smile of that pretty lady seated beside you, you look around and play peek-a-boo with that young tyke two rows ahead... In short, have a great time while you're there. Hey, there's no friggin' way I'm wasting the trip thinking about why the damn train is needs a railroad track, or why my ticket says I should be seated at the wrong side of the coach, or why that bloke on the right side of the coach is better-looking than I am. I'm not wasting my time on all that crap. I'm making the most out of this trip. (Besides, the lady beside me doesn't seem to have company... )
I have to admit, I've been through that phase. When I was younger, I'd wring my brains out trying to figure out the reasons for my existence. Well. I'm out of it, and boy, am I glad to have gathered enough sense to save me from myself. Ask any engineer, and chances are, you'll be told that practice is much much better than theory. Life is about living it, and not trying comprehend it, and dying still trying. Yes, it helps to know why things are the way they are. But if the probablities of understanding the why's of life is as slim as seeing the assholes in government go to jail, then there's no point in sulking.
Now, what the hell am I doing here... Contemplating? Okay, so shoot me... Life is also about breaking your own rules from time to time...
Hey maybe I should stop. My stomach's aching for dinner. My fingers are getting restless for my do-or-die game with my friend, fellow NBA 2K2 addict. I'll use the Lakers this time...
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