why

Why is my heart so hard? The longer I spend time here, it seems that a hard shell is also forming around my heart? I seem to be acquiring more materialistic tendencies and losing more of the person I truly am. I am so riddled by guilt that I refused to give something that was so little and would take away nothing from me. I may not have everything, but I've always had enough. What I demonstrated today was nothing short of selfishness, knowing that I have more than enough and what even goes to waste sometime, yet I did not give. I know that saying sorry will not undo what I have done, nor will it give what I have not given, yet, I believe this is a wakeup call. A call to look back to what I was and to undo what I have become. Am i this monster living within me? this selfish person who fails to give and yet have been weaned on the gifts of others? How hardhearted I have become. I no longer know me. And regret always happens in the end. I only wish that it is not yet too late for me to turn back to the right path and to realizing my true dream and my real potential. Is it ever too late? am I doomed forever?

Lost

I feel lost and utterly out of place with what i am doing right now. I know that this is not me. I feel like i am just filling up my days with endless things so that i will not become bored. or just to deny the fact that this is no longer me anymore. i feel like there is something totally alien and hostile that is in me right now. when i look back at my friends, i catch a glimpse of who i was before. someone that i totally know. but to look at myself right now, i feel like i am looking at someone else's life. does working in a call center change you that much? that i can no longer reconize myself? true, i do not lack for anything, and i enjoy the income it brings. but in the end, the question is, it is worth it? is it worth losing myself and who i really am?

Reminiscing

I was declutterring my things and I found a stash of old CD's, out of curiosity, I looked at what the CD's have in them and I found 84 old pictures. They were from an old phone that I already threw out years ago. And I thought that I had lost those pictures forever.Some good things do come out when you clear out the trash. Among these old pictures were photos of the year I spent as a volunteer teacher in one of the remote mountains of our province. Looking at them,I realized how different I look two years ago and now have a greater understanding of the ravages my job wreaks on my life. Starting simply with how I look. I looked younger two years ago, no bemoaning the fact that I am older. But, there was simply a joy in my eyes, indicating that I was happy with what I was doing even though teaching with barely a modicum of materials on top of a mountain could hardly be considered easy. There was simply a spark in my eyes that probably resulted from all the endorphins I was manufacturing because of the daily exercise.
Coming across the pictures brought back a lot of memories,from that rainy day in June, when, still fresh from the city we attempted to climb the tallest among the mountains on that range and we barely made it to the top. In fact, we never actually wanted to go there. All we were after was to climb to a part of the mountain where we can see the town and the neighboring villages. We climbed to the peak on impulse, goaded by the wonderful legend of the mountain that our students were telling us. Three hours later, we all agreed that it was probably a bad idea. But then again, bragging rights were with us since we were able to climb up to the top, us city dwellers who,like me have a fear of heights. I was hanging on to the shrubberry for dear life, never letting them know that my slipping was not due to the we soil, but because my palms and soles were sweating so hard that it seemed like I was on a perpetual sliding motion. Also knowing that one wrong step could mean certain fall to my demise. Whew! I'm getting sweaty palms now, just writing about the harrowing experience.
It's a far cry from my present mouse-pushing job, but I realized that my experience there actually strengthened me to face whatever this present job may bring me. So much for the memories, we can never really live in the past, we just have to go back,and draw experience from it once in a while.

Two Years

Its been two years since I've been stuck on an office cubicle. Funny how time flies. I never noticed that two years have crept up on me. I never imagined that I would last this long on a desk job. When I first started to work, all I thought about was the salary and how I could send "baon" to my sister. Then came the endless nights and days of answering calls and never getting enough sleep. After the first month, I already wanted to quit. Being stuck in an office cube never did appeal to me from the start, and I took the job in desperation since I needed quick money. After the second month, all I thought about was how I can leave the company without paying for the bond. So I decided to wait it out until four months when I can resign without paying for the bond... I said I'd stay for just the four months and go back to what I really loved doing. This has been the longest four months of my life.