ondoy (part i)

(Sta. Cruz Manila. Bagyong Ondoy. From my physical journal.)

I'm convinced. It's a foreshadowing of the imminent parousia!!!

Oh, yes. That would be the 20th time my phone has chimed, indicating low battery. But fuck, electricity's been out since 2 pm this afternoon. 5 minutes more and my phone'd be out, and landline's cut as well because of this fucken typhoon. I'm dying to phone people and read up on what's happening to the world!

I tried getting out- to charge the batts, get some more candles and coffee. The first time I tried getting out was actually around 4pm. But fuck! The ground floor was flooded with putrid rainwater; fucken gray, mixed with filth and unmentionables. I hesistated and got back because I thought I couldn't take plunging my legs in that filth. The flood only looked as if it could barely reach my knees then.

The second was minutes ago, around 9pm. I got downstairs and found that the ground floor was flooded with crotch-high flood already. But I was desperate. At home, I only had candles, a book to read, and only a few bread and fruits left for dinner (I was alone. Our househelper stayed in our other home in Nova). I needed food and communication really badly. I changed into shorts, braved the flood, submerged my legs in those murky waters.

But faaaaaaaak!!! When I reached the gates, I saw that they- our ever-failing security guards (yes, we need an escapegoat)- had barricaded the building from outside, with what looked like assortment of chunks in rice sacks. I thought that was weird and extreme, considering we were already some significant 3 -4 feet higher than the actual street. I thought the flood inside were mere rainfall collected inside the building, etc, etc.

It was dark. So it was only when I hurdled over the barricades when I witnessed that the entire length our street was covered with dark water!! Hur! It was like setting food on a riverbank! Possibly waist to chest-high if I had stood on the pavement.

I retreated, feeling defeated, snorting at that awful joke heaven had sent.

So I'm here on my bed trying to write with candles. I want to get out now! But I'm willing to bet that those stupid fat-headed and pot-bellied city officials won't have a solution immediately. And, tomorrow's too early for the third world. I'm also sure that somewhere nearby, other people are prolly having tougher problems in the face of this typhoon. God, save us all.

sanity. anytime. beybeh.

Gah.. I know, the title's a futile attempt at humor. I'm desperate. I need it. It's one of those let's-take-a-step-back-and-look-at-your-life moments. It's haunting me yet again. It's the -ber months. 3 months to go before the new year. I'm so anxious. It scares me that maybe this same day next year, I'd still feel stuck and unable to embarace life's supposed inexhaustible possibilities for bliss; that I'd feel like I haven't achieved anything substantial; or that I'd still feel like some outsider to the world.

Maybe I haven't done enough to really forget everything about my bitter and sordid past. Yuck. If I trully sum it up, it won't even amount to a 5-minute movie teaser really. What does it take to really really embrace all pain and really move forward? And I think it's not only the past. What is it now that keeps me from celebrating all thing?

Sometimes, I'm too angry that I forget what I'm angry about. And that's what's really funny I guess about this .

we're writing again- about the same things, again.

Can't sleep. Err, yet again. And this precipituous inclination to despair is in the air once more- after what could be a long and unabated (possibly) zest for post-school life. Heh, that bit over a year certainly had my head going the right way, I guess. I actually felt good. I wasn't exactly doing the same thing everyday for the last year, learning curve was challenging, and I find work (people, etc) quite tolerable and even fun, occasionally. That's prolly the longest time for A Clean, Well-lighted Place after that generally dreary and pointless college life. Point is, we're possibly on a journey yet again that'd retell how I came of out of sappy ego-diminishing sentimentalities back in the hay days.

Well, I want to believe that this schmaltziness should be some form of blessing. I've forgotten how I came to resolve all those puerile conundrums on life's "supposedly" evident (nauseating) aimlessness. this is a chance to really know that journey again - and write about it, getting me a deeper psychosis of myself. hopefully, it'd get me a better chance to reassess things, esp on whether I'm still game with the choice I made for myself 2 years ago- ah, hazy days... and suddenly a year has passed. Like I'm suddenly awake.

Gah. It's just that sad movie, yeah? And why the hell do I always bother to come off with a vague form of depth. I mean, isn't "vague form of depth" irony, even? Urk. Let's just get back to our venture on getting our value increase in the corporate world, which ceaselessly proves its usefulness and sterility, esp. when it comes to drying off those sappy emotionalities on who we really are, etc. We're just workers in cubicles dammit. money money money and, from time to
time, let's forcefully churn out gaeity from folks at work, friends and family. That's life in the 21st century. Exceptions either die out or infect us with their own version of life. Let's just welcome that wave. let's stop this pointless pseudo-intellectual middle-class ramblings already.

Maybe something fun for next time...

yeah, I think that physical journal I write to everyday is esentially neurotic. I need another medium to show my version of the world, one that makes me feel like I'm really talking to actual people. I know, what pathetic sort of yuppiness have I found myself dragged to.