coffee limbo

That it's frustrating is an understatement. It's more like a hodgepodge of depression, sinusitis, palpitations, stress- no, I meant STRESS- pressure and a gallon of banality. Put them together and what have you got? Bibidibabi- ask Cinderella's fairy godmother.

I wish I have one. Poof! Genius! Poof! Speed! Poof! Ugh. I don't make sense. It wasn't suppose to be about any of these! It's about that direction I'm aiming at, that direction I'm fanatically pursuing. It's what I want to do, not what I want to become, that I'm after. Perhaps it's because they're insperable that's why I'm in Limbo. Or perhaps, I want them to make things easier. No, it must be the coffee.

I'm re-learning meditation from HS religion notes. Yes, I'm that desperate to get this out of this limbo.

Must... live... Ahh!!!

It doesn't NOT only make sense that when you've finally figured out your basically PoMo, which is practically an irony, you figure that, deep under your skin, you prize this standard, which you know is all crappy, against which you measure yourself, but that its not about this "world" that you're measuring yourself against but people's, sometimes, unfortunately, very dear friends, weird connections. So, yeah. It's not just that I'm sure peeps can never be sure- that "peeps" there includes me- but that regardless how much we try to break free, there will be something to hold us back, and we realize for a glimpse of sec, that we want that something to hold us back- It's the where-is-the-universe-expanding-to conundrum without that last thing to hold us back. And, yeah. I don't think anyone can be crazy-free. To me, it all boils down to being in the eyes of another person; that it's not the fact that you're being seen but that someone is looking.

I don't have the gift of metaphors, so I'm coming down hard. Hate this part. I'm not this, usually. It must be the coffee again. I'm in need of my comfy people! I was a bit worried if I hurt Ka in anyway when she asked me to have coffee with her and the other comfy people. If she felt the same lost-in-limbo last saturday, I'd probably offer myself as a PA to her too.

This is why I hate those teenage brats' angsty music, a that pathetic song by Lifehouse- You and Me yata. And, sheez, I'm freakin tired of that band who sang Over My Head. Selfish, redundant, self-pitying music. Gaahh! These brats are freaking lost. And, worse, they delight in it by establishing truths that make them comfortable about being lost! What irony.

…

For a more elucidating explanation:
Saturday: Morning Class, Afternoon research. Still not done with Monday paper. Coffee. Liars. Shocked at the liar! I saw it in her eyes! Prolly pissed at me.

Sunday: Overslept! Morning on Monday paper. Afternoon meeting. Sunday, very bad day. Star Coffee. Crazy man, literally, came to coffee table freaking everyone out. Felt chills. Rain. Very bad wind. Jittery because of Coffee. Peeps with bad mood. Chocked at my offence. Barely managed to contain myself. Smoothen table. Smokers! Super morning type type type. Still in first part.

Monday: Shocked at oversleeping. Lame excuse. Meeting with DS peeps. Group mate implied intimidation. Shocked. Usual touchy-feely sentiments dormant. Lost at how to deal with Juniors. Crappy paper. Paranoia didn't set-in, fortunately.

who's the real joker?

"What is it that really makes sense? What is it that you really want to do? What is it that you hold on to that makes you persist? Why don't you just kill yourself i you think nothing makes sense because we'll all die anyway?!"

I was rendered mute after these last words slipped my mouth yesterday. I was half-chastising myself for allowing Oprah, or Dr. Phil, or whoever, to possess my body. It wasn't me at all- well, at least these days. I'm usually the one to right away jump on people to make them feel guilty, or lost about how right they are about their lives. But something about awful rain and coffee- or the smell of it- got me to this kind of mood. I mean, we were in the middle of Makati (!) and I was making such stupendously superfluous existential mumbo jumbo!

There was something about how confused Nes was about what she really wants out of her career. Obscure criticisms, which I make sure people forget afterwards, didn't come out! Instead, It was that voice I've long not used in everyday conversations. I stopped after 3 paragraphs of obscurity, knowing full well that I was talking about myself and not about their work. Clearly, I could've had used that same amount of brain power the day before for my paper, which I awfully rushed!

Reserve, dear. That's what I need. Philosophy can't be something over coffee! It was cheap and downright sophistic! It was presumptuous on my part to think, or even welcome the idea, that they knew how it is to live what I was talking about. I was wrong to believe that they knew my life very well, even if they are my closest friends!

Heh, it could've had gone worse, I guess. I was merely giving them questions to ask themselves and not some genuine Dr. Phil psychoanalysis. It's true that unless what I said was lived, they would remain the same obscure generalities about life and the world. But I guess the questions I threw at them weren't pure rubbish- well, I hope at least.

The "coffee session"- because we didn't really have coffee- came after some dinner and The Devil Wears Prada. Meryl Streep nailed the boss-from-hell character! The story was commonplace but its entire delivery gave it a new level of significance. I think there was something about the movie that led us to talk about career and future plans, which ultimately led us to the "coffee session".

Finally, a real weekend. I used up all my cuts for my saturday class- hell, I didn't wake up at seven because I was too tired and had no sleep from thursday to friday. Excuses, I know. Ugh this sucks. Anyway, a new entry at last after what seemed like a month. It's not about protesting some people who build their own kingdoms this time. Like this this groupmate who- nevermind. I'm trying to be so Zen these days that bugs like them don't seem to itch.