QUESTION:
If humans are bound to die sooner or later, then what's the purpose of living?
The second half of my life will start today! Yes, it's my birthday. So far, only two people have greeted me in advance (my ex-colleagues from CVG called me while I was writing this - thanks guys! pero tampo parin ako..hmmmp...). I really don't give a flying fuck if people greet me or not. I will be happy no matter what. Geez... I am getting old but have not gained anything but fats and white hair and black heads and dandruff. I am completely out of sync with my ex-classmates and friends lives. But hey, I'm starting today. Yes. I want to make a change!
I know this entry will sound like another i-am-ok-and-will-be-better-soon-blah-blah-shit-blah. I'm tired of that same thingyshit, to be honest. Even myself has gone sick and tired of seeing myself get sick and tired of my own BSs in life. But I am not giving up...not anymore. I don't want to be the same Raffy who thought of taking his own life just because he can't find his purpose of living. My mom and siblings might be surprised if they get to read this... but let me confess... It really crossed my mind, not just once but many times. I was almost over the edge...just a thread away from what I was thinking of doing. I thought of killing myself.
Looking back, I remember the last time I let people see me cry. My father died 5 years ago...17th of June...3 days after my birthday. I did not cry a single tear-drop the night he died. In fact, I was quite relieved that his suffering finally ended. But when the day that he's about to be put down, reality started to slowly sink in my restless mind. I, being the only boy in the family, I can say I was really loved. My dad had been always with me as a kid, and as I grew up I realized how much he loved us. There were times when he was just being too much of everything - giving too much advice, too much criticism...he sometimes hit us with his belt also (a typical way of disciplining children during our time...long before Bantay-Bata 163 was invented, lol.)...too much of being a father... which is kind of a smothering-parental-guidance-thingy that every growing child hates. There were even times when I wished he'd go...when I wished he'd leave me alone and just let me be and do what I want. And he finally did. He died. And when I had the last glimpse of his face through the glass that separated him from us...when the coffin was finally closed...when he was being put down...I cried, hard and loud. And yes, I miss my dad.
I like being alone most of the time. Tucked inside my room, I barely go out. Only when I need to go to the john or when I feel like eating or when my mom calls me are the only times that I leave my cave-like room. I am depressed. Yes, I am. It's something that I have to face myself. Something that I cannot hide and run away from. It is there...it exists...the feeling of being depressed and the intolerable aweing pain of being lonely is always and ever present in my entirety. It's a battle between me and depression. But fighting back was never an option for me. Coward is my last name, I-am is my first. I usually run away when I cannot take things anymore. I'd call my friends, my ex-colleagues, and invite everyone I know for an all-night-drinking-session. That's where I was good at. At work, I always try to make all sort of excuses to brush off responsibilities. I know I am well-equipped with all the things I need to survive, but I'm just too darn lazy to work on things...just too lazy to fight back. I'm just too passive. Depression has been grasping me for a long time now, but I never made an attempt to fight it. I used to go out with friends, get drunk, get really really drunk, go home, get depressed again, become a bad drunk and say shitty things, jack-off. I don't know. But I really didn't like who I was before. Not a single bit. I always saw myself as the ugliest...the most boring... the least interesting and the least attractive...and the list goes on and on and on. I always wanted recognition from the people I love and care about but was too lazy to make an effort to get it. Until someone finally showed me and made me feel how it is to be cared about. That was only when I started to like myself...only because someone finally recognized me aside from my family. But it was only temporal.
I only have a few friends, but I am lucky most of them are real. It sucks to be depressed but I am lucky enough the wisest and the most open minded friends I have stayed with me. And they've been helping me.
One asked me, "What do you get from your self-pity?" "Why do you write about it?" That was my composer/music arranger friend asking me.
I answered, "It feels liberating when I vent all my frustrations...it somehow gives me a quick-fix for my suffering."
Then he asked, "And do you really think we find your frustrations and self-pity entertaining?"
A bit irritated with what he said, I told him I do not write for people to read...I do not write for other people's pleasure...that I don't give a flying or crawling or fucking fuck about other people's opinion about me... that I do it for myself and nobody else.
He replied, "Raffy...you are affecting people. As a writer and a blogger it is your responsibility to influence people in the right way. You are spreading negative thoughts thru your writings and that is totally not right."
I listened to what he was saying, wrinkling my forehead on the words "totally not right".
He added, "Instead of influencing people in the wrong way, why don't you vent your frustrations in a positive way?"
I frowned while asking him "How do I do that?"
And he told me the secret.
Sometimes I feel like I am expressing the same feelings over and over...the same very pessimistic thoughts and words over and over...like an irritating cartoon character wearing the same clothes all through out the series...like a sick-cycle carousel that continues to run in a very tediously old-fashioned circular motion. I need to come up with something special from all my frustrations and failures. I need to make and write something that will "inspire" people. Like how the deaf do it. They cannot communicate verbally, audibly, yet in there smiles, thousands of happy things are reflected. They do not dwell and complain about their disability. Instead, they make use of other things that they have to bring and share happiness to people. There's just so much things to enjoy in this world! Why do I have to wallow in pain and depression??? Pain is inevitable, everyone experiences it one way or another. But the way people respond to what's going on makes the difference. It's on the way people take things. I realized I can find something truly important in every minute of my existence. I realized I do not really need to dwell and feel sorry for myself for not having the things I wish I have...for not having the people I love and care about...and for being rejected. I only started loving myself before because someone finally recognized me. But now, it has finally dawned on me... I do not need people to motivate me. Well, it helps in some ways having someone to cheer you up and praise you and recognize you and to back you up and help you when you find yourself in deep shit, but it is only one's self who can truly save himself. Yes...I need to love and recognize myself first before I cry and beg for other people's recognition.
Wee heee... I think this is just too much drama for my birthday. Well, I am happy. I can honestly say I am.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENT:
By the way, thanks to my ex-colleagues from Convergys-Alabang, for making the effort to contact me at this time (past midnight and I was writing this semi-positive post when my ex-boss and ex-colleagues called me.) And special thanks to David for buying me Bob Ong's 7th book, KAPITAN SINO (see pic) - the first Birthday gift I received this year! I really appreciate and love the book!!! And to Jaime (my best friend!) and Titus... you guys are incredible (ooohhhsome) in giving advices. Why don't you guys work as psychologists...I'm sure you'll make it big in that field! Wehehe... XD.
SONG NUMBER:
Happy Birthday to me! Happy Birthday to me!
Happy Birthday happy birthday happy birthday to me!... (Repeat 'till fade)
ANSWER TO THE QUESTION:
If you can't find a reason for living...ahmmm...well...fuck that! Just live life, be happy, and get some sex from time to time! Harharhar...
ANOTHER BY-THE-WAY:
Hmmm...the glitch here seems to be a long-lived system failure...Blogger still doesn't provide me the General Toolbar-editing options I used to have...aaarrrgghh... my font is different and my paragraphs are not justified! Ayusin na sana ng Blogger... (***update: my editing options are working fine now. Mukang mas maganda tingnan pag Arial ang font.***)
