Life Vs. Happyness - An Instant Thought

28 years and still I am driving my way towards knowing my purpose in life. Does this really happen to everyone? Does life itself loses its meaning? I'm damned again. Haha! With those lofty years, I have conceived that the actions I made set things in motion. I may not know those parts that suppose to happen yet did not and its preempted underlying; and those that should not yet have taken its course -But hell I know, -I'm living one right one, the result of the choices I've made during the last 28yrs.

Maybe it's a gift that we all will never know tomorrow's history unless we live with it. To some, they may find the cycle of life an unending scheme of trouble and sorrow. But to those of us who beautifully sees the imperfection of things, definitely a day's gone by is a memory to keep, a treasure for a lifetime. To the others who believed that a day will never be without an ascent of the sun in the horizon, I guess they're the most hopeful ones. As I deeply fathom my heart's real intent in writing this article, I realized that I too, is doubtlessly losing it. It's funny though that at the end of every tiring trail, I always look back finding ways to comfort myself. I guess I was just hanging around to the thought that I am sane enough to convince myself that whatever and wherever this thing may go, I'm on it all the way. To top it all, I think that the logic behind the word 'happyness' is very complicated and the simplest way to attain it at most times if not all is to focus ourselves to what really makes us smile. Right? Now, you're smiling! Haha:)

My Poor Return

Suddenly I have been getting these literary outpour that I can't contain. I don't know why, I just really feel like writing. At times though when I start to joggle my fingers and type, I lose my senses in the middle leaving the article half attended. I also notice that I have become a writer of few words. The worst thing -I tend to forget that 'it' word to complete a statement.

This is not really something that hugely bothers me. But hopefully I'd get away and find that part of me that really yearns to write. Maybe I just need a peaceful mind in a day to start writing. As I imagine myself, I would probably need an office desk with a chair where I can work alone. More bond papers & a nice ballpoint pen would be perfect. 

Now this is boring literature. Anyway, I am just making a statement. Aish! Skip and move! I am leaving.

'POSTSCRIPTS TO A BLOODBATH'

*Media confirms that there is no survivor named Bang Lu Min. This account is fiction.

Mr. Mendoza was already upset even before he saw on television what the policemen did to his brother. The other tourists who remained inside the bus were complaining. Wei Ji Jiang wanted to go to the bathroom. Dao Chi Yu was hungry and the rest were just groaning and whining like they have forgotten that our lives rest in Mr. Mendoza’s hands.

The hostage taker, as you know him was really nice. He treated us okay and even let the elders and the children leave the bus. He said your policemen treated him unfairly. He was a policeman too and was accused of doing something he had no knowledge of. But your government didn’t listen so he used us to get everyone’s attention. Things would have never turned for the worst if he didn’t see how his family was dragged out of their house and taken into custody. He was watching the news all the time as we huddled around each other behind the bus. He shouted some words in your language then started shooting in the air. A girl about my age started screaming. Mr. Mendoza demanded her to stop but she didn’t understand English. God, he had to slash her neck with a knife just to put her to rest. Her boyfriend who tried to hit him was shot in the head. Tension was rising.

You can see in his face how scared and confused he was. The bus driver ran away leaving him alone with strangers from a distant land. I can see him walking across the aisle, sometimes pointing his machine gun to one of the tourists. But he tried his best not to hurt us, especially those who really cooperate. I guess its in your nature not to inflict pain on others unless it was necessary. I remember him saying that he will free us before sundown and implored us to forget everything when we return home. But his words don’t matter now. The policemen were trying to force their way in, while we all lied down to shield ourselves from bullets. Mister Mendoza blindly shoots at his enemies which I think kept them from rescuing us. I hear sobs under the chairs. Some were even shouting the names of their loved ones even when the air merely eat their words. Kevin Tang tried to escape when the glass door was was shattered, but one shot and he slumped on the floor with blood gushing from his mouth. Heavy rain pitter-pattered on the rooftop. In old Chinese saying, it means an end to a struggle. Finally, somebody was able to open the escape hatch at the back of the bus. Freedom. But I knew Mister Mendoza was still alive. I knew he was just waiting for a chance to strike back at his enemies. So I told those around me not to escape. Let the authorities come for us instead.

Then there was gunfire. He was firing at his enemies with a machine gun. Those who were at the escape hatch fled abandoning us once again. It’s like a nightmare with no end and to wake up means a certain death. Then somebody from outside the bus threw a canister. It forced out a black smoke that is so painful to the eyes and putrid smelling to the nose. People started screaming. We cannot breathe. Some ran in front of the bus but Mister Mendoza warned them of stray bullets. It was too late. One was hit on the head, the other was hit on the shoulders. Bullets were now flying. Its like the authorities thought we were all dead. Mister Mendoza finally admits his mistake and said sorry to everyone, dead or alive. He then ran towards the front of the bus where he would meet his maker. As he passed by my chair with bullets whistling overhead, I clutched my hand on the velvet curtain and wrapped it around my face. All I could think of was to stay alive - for my child who is waiting for me back in Xinjang. I know I will survive, I will come home.

Bang Lu Min, Survivor, Quirino Bloodbath

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"Remarkably believable to me. But nevertheless, even if this was pure fiction, all the actions said are real enough narrating the mere possibilities of the consequences that the Philippine Defense took to ease the crisis." Just me - Jede

People Like Us

I always wonder why people admire other people. I mean in my case I have always wished I lived a different life like 'them'. For people like me who loves to dream, I think that's all I could do to make things happen.

Singapore as a Runway!

Coming back to Singapore for me was not an option. The late passport, last minute booking of flight, and the fear to be noticed by the immigration are just few of the things reminding me how I was hesitant, unprepared and incosiderate thinking of coming back..

Stephen, Reyna and myself at the Esplanade, Singapore

I thought that things would be easier the second time. Like my 'F&B Mag' article featured my coming to Singapore, this time around is different -more scary and a bit of a gamble.

Thinking about the fact that I auctioned all the things I have and leaving my precious career in the Philippines, what now is waiting for me there should I decide to go back?

It's not that easy to imagine being here jobless. I mean being here trying our luck in whatever and whoever would accept us as employees. And this is not the only case to consider. Afterall, we are on social visit status and with this it entails a lot more details -scary really, believe me!!

But like that of R.R. Tolkien's statement saying, "When do you move on?" -we always move when our heart finally understands that there is no turning back. It's true.

Although all things are blurred at the moment; no possibilities just hopes; and purely intentions, no invites -I still would say that here in Singapore, on this side of the world, the grass is greener.

Warcraft's Chrysanthemum

I am not really good with names. Afterall, I have established a no-name in my creative writing and photography quest. I mean they say I do have the "what it takes" to be better but never did I was popular with a single name in them.

In my publications' articles and poems, I was used of pennames like Quinoy, Choyance and Djuk. Same as with the photo galleries and the Marawi 96.9 FM programs where i was too lax in choosing a common name that I can be known better by fans.
This made me understand the importance of this idea when i started to play Warcraft DOTA last April of this year.

I was amazed by players bringing confidently a single name in every game where time helped them established these names to the audience and to the common Warcraft World. Like for instance, a friend of mine named Kiara and was a very successful player has gotten a huge impact on getting the boys respect and caress since he was gay. And where did he got that name? Well, he said that he was baptized as Kiara by his landlord's siblings when the latter saw Kiara to be similar with their favorite cartoon movie, Lion King where a Kiara character exists.
Most names are too simple and plain. Some uses their birth names which is the simplest while others are strange combinations of their birtdates like Aprione and Thuzjeun. It is also noticeable how certain players make way for malicious names with no definite purpose at all.

One player I was curious to know because I have been hearing his name in my playing area is Madness. I really dont know how he got his name. But since he was noted to be good and skillful, not to mention that he is fair-looking which makes it a good combo, that was a factor for him to attract the audience watching. Even one of my colleagues fell on his arms and now has a name counterpart, Beauty&Madness not just to compliment the other but to show admiration.
On the other hand, Kix story is different. He claims that his name is a product of inspiration from a former girlfriend who has a dog who bears that name. The irony is that Kix is known to be marijuana and was a usual phychotic medication of the girl's family especially her brothers when they crave for something. Which gives me an epiphany that we have life mirrors as seen with the names we are using. It is simply like this: "What people do even nasty or freaky that we tend to like must also be of our interest". Crazy right?

Mine? Of course, it has a literature. It is a masculine flower that grows only in sunshine. Which also hints how easy and outgoing person I am. I may have difficulty now in telling what and where my name would take me but i know that sooner or later I would also have the same prestige that they have and by that time comes my name would speak for itself because of its brilliance aura and radiance.

Chrysanthemum?.. -He's beyond Godlike!!..


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First published on my Friendster, May 26, 2007.

I can write...

I know i can write now...

But what for? Amidst all the mess in my life the past year, will i still go on? I had bitter experiences dealing with special people. I was happy then . Like Moonfang, I had a circlet of moonbeams hanging around me making me smile and inspiring my thoughts. I was well motivated everyday that time -fixing myself and growing mightily. But after the cataclysm, I was worn and broken. Very fragile and pessimistic. I thought I was psychotically treated by people. I was blue all the time.

After that year(that's a year before this year), its all again happening. It would be good for me if things were all right but its not. What I fear the most now is uselessly spending my most treasure in life like what i did that year -TIME. I know I am not literally rich(money and properties) but I am far way beyond richer with smiles and people. With special ones? -I guess it was just a blessing that I encountered bitterness the first time so that wisdom would taught me well to handle the same instance again. Time for me to move on!

Its really hard to express my life chapters in words but I am trying. That's why I like writing much as I do it as an outburst of my thoughts and emotions.

You see... I can write!...

PS

This article was first published in jede202.blogs.friendster.com on June 09, 2007