My Boyfriend is my Number 1 fan

No one can doubt my boyfriend's persistence to pursue my dream.

Do you know how many times Lawrence bugs me to write? He bugs me constantly. He believes that I am a great writer. This is even when he read a silly little poem I made when i was in highschool.

Ever since I resigned from my job at the bank, all he would tell me is to write. And everytime that I am in the process of writing, he would rejoice. When he asks me what I will do for the day and learns that I will try to write, his replies are more than ecstatic.

News is, I have been stalling.

All my life, I have been stalling. The reason I give to most, regarding me not pursuing writing, is that 'I am afraid to fail'. And when I broke free from my corporate life, I said I will start pursuing this dream. It's been months and no writing has been done.

Now, I don't know why I am stalling. It's finally here. I have the time. I have the ideas. I have the new notebooks, pens and photos. I tried writing. Visiting some of my blogs, reading on current writing trends, sucking all information that could be useful. But when I try to start writing, I end up staring at the blank space in my blog editor. In the end, I get tired and start tweaking with my blog settings and then calling the day productive.

The thing is, I have decided to face the fear of failure. Somehow I now know I can still live and earn money even if I fail as a writer. I've come to terms with that (I'm not really sure about this statement, but hey, it feels right). So why am I stalling?

It dawned on me that I was afraid of failing Lawrence.

I'm afraid that whatever crap I spew out of my mind would be exactly what it is, crap. And I'm afraid that his belief in me would be all for nothing.

This is another fear I have to conquer.

Well, here goes.

How is your employer?

Last month, I resigned from my work. It's been a looooong process. I have been trying to move on from my company since last year. However, some changes and deals had to take place before I could finally let the company go.

What's sad is that it seems that I'm not leaving in good terms. I recently had the flu and could not go to work. I got texts from my manager that I need to extend my tender for resignation. Instead of leaving at the end of the month, I have to talk to my manager that I may not be eligible to take my terminal leave.

This is what saddens me. I've been with the company for more than a year. They have seen my dedication and they have all seen my productivity and excellence. I have spent more time at the office than with my family. I have sacrificed a lot for a position that they couldn't officially give me.

After all this, I need to talk to my managers tomorrow about tendering my work. It seems as if I couldn't even use my sick leaves to take care of myself. It's not like I'm just lounging around. I was in bed hacking and coughing. I was nauseated, feverish and couldn't even lift myself.

I got a text from my manager that I could be extending my stay with the company. My problem is my last day was supposed to be Friday and come Monday morning, I'd be starting with my new company. Suffice to say it, I cannot extend my stay with the company. Now I have to fight them. It's sad since I was starting to think they really regarded me as an esteemed colleague.

Rollercoaster

I have been moody since early morning today. Before having breakfast with my HK teammates, I was a little sad. Then I was happy when we had breakfast. When we went to work I was okay until the Celtics lost to the Lakers. I forgot the other reason for my rowdy behavior.

I was a little off today. When night came (with a little date with Lawrence), I thought it would change. However, this bitch was ogling at Lawrence the whole time we were having a meal. (Side note: To the bitch, back off--he's mine! and I mean it.) Then I was bored then I was jumpy, sleepy, horny and tired.

The best thing is that for now, I just feel in love. Lawrence has gone home now. He's probably on a bus trying his best not to fall asleep (because he knows that I hate it when he does that). And me, I'm in my bed still feeling his last kiss on my lips.

Is there a term for when you have so much love for the person it scares, excites and confuses you all at the same time?

I'm scared because I've never loved a person like this--not even my family. I'm excited because I know this feeling is just the beginning and it just keeps getting better and better as evident in the last five years of our relationship. It confuses me because I don't really know how to handle this--I might get pushy or clingy or unlovable in the end.

There's no point to this entry at all. I just have to write this because I do not want to lose this memory (this feeling? maybe). Maybe one day I'll read this entry and know the answer to my own question. For now, I'm enjoying the end of this rollercoaster ride.

Happiness is not that bad

Today, I felt blessed.

People always say that happiness is a choice. I have been denying this for the longest time ever since I met depression in Grade six. For the longest time, I always denied that I am blessed. When people see blessings, I see flaws. When people look for happy endings, I crave for miserable ones.

Depression, sadness, morbidity and death has been my comfort zone for a long time. Evident in my writing pieces, I can write gruesome deaths and much-more ghastly heart breaks. My family and friends can attest to the amount of negativity my mouth spews per day--whether it be a form of a complain, a joke or a story.

I have never been good at accepting blessings. I'm too afraid to recognize it because I know one way or another it will escape me. So I stick to my bad endings and my negativity; because I know these are constant and I will never be disappointed.

Today was different. Today, I was out with my family and Lawrence celebrating my dad's birthday and my parents' wedding anniversary. Today, I felt happiness. And even though there are some disappointments (e.i., no family spa treatments, Law went home early, etc.) I still felt happy.

Usually I battle happiness with negative thoughts and sudden bursts of temper--but today, I didn't. I simply enjoyed the moment and felt contented.

Today I write (which I don't usually do much these days) because I want to capture this moment--this feeling. Hopefully when time comes that depression comes knocking in my door again, I would only have to read this and ignite one of the fondest memories I've ever had (in the longest time).

Writing

Last Friday night, Lawrence identified me as miserable.

And for the longest time, I didn't think I was. I mean, I was always stressful and of course some factors (like woman-related happenings) caused my mental state of miserable but I never thought I WAS MISERABLE.

He says it's because I'm not doing what I like.

Currently, I'm in the Accounts Payable line of business. This has something to do with Math and Accounting. This is ironic because I have evaded Math for as long as I can remember. (I have a theory regarding life's ironies, but I'll just blog about it some other time.)

It's been a while since I've written anything. I used to write all the time. And I mean ALL THE TIME. My attention's been called by my many, many, many annoyed teacher when I was writing essays while the class was going on. I use to just sit and then start writing my thoughts down--whether it be on my cellphone or on the back of a food receipt.

When I started working, I don't seem to have the time anymore. I used to wish that there could be a device which records my thoughts so that when I feel like writing, I don't actually have to write--I just think. And then words will immediately be recorded--which I can edit later on my laptop.

I miss writing because I miss making stories. I miss making fun of people or situations in a very subtle and unnoticed kind of way. I miss pouring my thoughts out without anyone contradicting me right in my face (unless the reader would actually come up to me and contradict what I wrote--which doesn't happen because I'm unpublished). I miss the sound of the excited tapping of the keyboard keys whenever I have something to say. And I miss the fact that my writing needs to keep up with my thoughts as they completely zoom in and zoom out on different stories, essays and other writing materials.

I have yet to write about the interesting ideas I have collected throughout my college years. I have yet to write about my opinions on the different places, food, cultures and experiences I have had for the past three years. I have yet to write about my thoughts on my current friendships, past and my hopes for the future.

Maybe Lawrence was right. Maybe I'm miserable. Because I just realize, I haven't been doing something that makes sense--makes me complete. For years, I have written everything down. Even the ugliest and worst essay I have ever read. Now, I write nothing.

This is just so sad.

Destiny

I often ask myself what I want in life. In the end, I end up being more confused than I was when I first asking it.

Truth is, I'm indecisive.

Currently, I'm working for a multinational bank doing far fetched tasks. Tasks I didn't fathom that I could do. Salary is great. I'm a workaholic so extra work is fine with me. But I still find something missing.

Give it a second. Maybe later I'll decide that this is nothing.

The Afterlife

Today at lunch I was trying my best not to think about Math. As I have blogged before, I currently work for a bank--which is ironic since I don't know what to do.

Every lunch hour, I sit with my friends (from different teams--not sure why we don't go with our teammates) and discuss everyday topics. For that one hour, I get to stop memorizing numbers, codes, functions, banking groups and other accounting-related topics. I cherish this hour because at last I won't feel like I'm a fish out of water.

However today at lunch, upon meeting a new guy (BA major graduate), Math was all that was talked about. Consider this, I am having lunch with three guys all of them graduating from a Math-related course. One was Business Administration, the other was Economics and another was Accounting graduates.

Again, a fish out of water.

So I talked to them and told them not to discuss Math. This is the only hour we get away from numbers, don't we want to discuss something else?

I really didn't know how it happen but while I was in the middle Beef Steak meal, we were debating whether there was an afterlife or not. My friend strongly believes in Heaven and Hell. His main thesis is that if there's no Heaven or Hell, then what is the purpose of doing good on Earth. Also, there's this part about the soul. That if there's no Heaven, how do you suppose will our souls carry on after death.

Personally, I am torn between believing that there's no afterlife and that there's one just not Heaven or Hell but Reincarnation.

This is what I said to my friend.

To answer his first concern, what exactly does he mean by purpose of doing good? By what standards does he mean when he "has done good"? If it's by his own standards, meaning nobody have pointed out that this is good or that is bad--well then good for him. But humans are such a social animal that will want to thrust their standards as the "correct"or "right" standard. So technically, no one is really doing a good thing. Because what may be a "good thing" for me may be a "bad thing" for others. Does that mean that we're all going to Hell?

I say, we would only hope for a Heaven so that this fear of the unknown--the fear of knowing that there's nothing else after all the suffering, heartache, muscle cramps, disappoints, sadness--will be negated and we'd feel that everything we're doing is adding up to something great in the end. This reason is the reason why I think most of us are not enjoying life at the present. We're somehow saving it for something big in the end. What if there's none? So we cling to the idea of a Heaven when we die.

But couldn't we just have Heaven while we're living?

After the debate, we agreed to disagree and checked our watches. We were a little over the lunch hour that we were suppose to take. So we begrudgingly got up and returned to the pile of work that was waiting for us. I actually felt that my body was more stressed because of the debate.

Well, at least we didn't consume the hour talking about Math.