The entry that almost got away

Well sometimes I go out by myself and I look across the water...

Amy Winehouse woke me up thirty minutes ago and already I was sufficiently reminded to get back to work. Sure, she collapsed, apparently out exhaustion, and is canceling some of her gigs, but nevertheless she woke me up with subtle reminders that, probably, me defragmenting the PC's hard drives might lead to the problem of terribly-staggered song introductions to disappear. Well, it hasn't.

And the news that got to me might seem positive to some extent. I just learned that our mock thesis defense has been moved to the twenty-fifth, and justifiably so, because two class cancellations meant nobody could submit a draft of the final project proposal. I just got Karla's contributions but I cannot make sense of it, thanks to my state of mind. I'm already silently flustered by the fact that my saved passwords have disappeared from the PC, and I've drudgingly gone through the process of reintroducing the two. Nevertheless I earlier sent both Steph and Karl a text message regarding our final video, and as expected (and annoyingly so) I got no reply from both. In a time when my mother is hating me for maxing out my postpaid plan, even if none of the phone calls I make are fluff, it doesn't make any sense. Just when I thought the world has started cooperating, it hasn't.

The point is, apparently, I'm not willing to worry for anyone, and ironically, I want them to do otherwise. Redg seemed "emotional", as he himself put it, when he started talking to me about jealousy and protectiveness. I guess he asked me at the worst time. I haven't snapped out of my sleep, and already I'm being asked about my friends? It, however, is the best answer I've given so far on a Sunday. "Luckily, I don't really have friends in the strictest sense of the word, so no."

He asked why I thought it was so. My simplest excuse: "long story."

I should be blaming it on human nature, the tendency to be so fickle with things, the tendency to never know what you really want. I guess it's the way we place a huge premium on reciprocity. Confucius had that one covered, actually. Don't do unto other what you don't want to be done unto you. Millions of clueless parents and teachers later, kids want to be friends with everybody else, enter high school with a convoluted sense of idealism, and then fall face first on the ground. Last night (which I'll elaborate on soon, I promise) when some of our friends from the GMG walked along Miguel Walk just as we were loading Naomi's drum set on her dad's van, I told Lau that the prom theme for whatever it is seemed to tell me something. She thought it was because Kizia and Sam were there. I actually didn't care about who exactly was there. All I wanted was to leave.

If you actually paid attention to the concept I shared in class then you'd probably figure out that my example of someone who had such contempt for people who seem to get everything undeservingly wasn't any hypothetical. I do have the right to wonder why the ones who get in to GMG get trained in what I think are basics, when the people who don't, but are willing to learn, are, well, refused entry at first blink. Eventually I think some of them are show-offs, or I just absolutely despise the fact that they're of a certain clique that's as dismissive as those who bullied me in high school. Blame my freshman high school year which, up to now, hasn't received any closure since everybody insists I already have. Or, blame the world's illicit love affair with reciprocity.

I can also probably wonder why my phone calls go nowhere. Yeah, since I'm the good guy they expect me to do their work? I only do the phone calls, and yes, I have already racked my brain for ideas that aren't as spectacular as what they should be, but at least I get the job done. Heck, you had a whim and changed it, and I agreed! Why won't you just cooperate this time? Why all the expectations? Why does it have to be damn unfair? Why does it have to be damn unfair to me?

For our final project in television production class, we were given the chance to stick with our present grouping or drift apart and get new ones again. I think everybody wants to stick with what we have - we're too busy to forge new working relationships again - and just when I already have settled in the thought that complacency can be good, then comes Naomi telling me that there are plans to revive their newscast group. I think of it now as another one of those dismissive cliques. I actually remember the phone calls I made in desperation to get a group, and I remember the complaints I made when I didn't like one and yet got forced to coexist. I know change is supposedly good, yet scary, yet good, yet scary, but what's the point of it? To force us more deserving ones out?

Well, isn't that dark comedy material? You want them to but they don't. You want them to but you don't. You want them to but they don't give you a chance. You want them to but they set their own expectations and force you to do it. If only I could tell the world about everything - but we've got reputations to protect. I'm not Stephen Fry who got to talk about his being a manic depressive, who can talk endlessly about what never gets seen and actually get sympathy for it. I may be a fan of your comedy, but in the real world, sir, nobody gets support. Maybe being admired for not having pretensions, as Steph said in my documentary rushes, is a good thing, but they eventually get you alienated, shunned, pushed away, forgotten, and yes, that's unfair.

So why am I still asking for anyone out there, when actually I'm much worse than them? Yes, I'm guilty of being dismissive, of wishing John wasn't openly wishing for a thesis partner even if he knows nobody would want to be with him, of being angry at some of my sort-of-friends because they're too busy being the best that they are and leaving me behind, of being irritated at Arlene for dropping the family storyline when I refused to include a baby in our newscast, of calling Karl up when he won't even give a reply, of expecting that things would fall in place - but we were taught that this happens. So it's all your fault. All yours, damn it.

Justifiably so, I got tagged. I don't really deserve to ask for anyone to care, because I don't anyway. Well, what's my plea amidst six billion others? I can actually hear you laugh on the other end of the line. I know your happy I'm experiencing what you supposedly feel under my wretched inattentiveness, but that's just you being dismissive. Or excessively patronizing, pretending you're understanding everything, but that's just you being dismissive all the more. I have actually ruined my reputation. Why don't you go ruin yours?

And your responses...

Me happy about ur depression?guess I'm the bad guy here...oh well maybe i was expecting too much obviously u have much important things to do than trying to figure out who is leaving u comments and who,u think is pretending,understands you...never thought that u would feel that way...

u know people do care...

Anonymous Anonymous8/12/2007     

Yah, well that's reality.
Or it's just me. Whatever the case maybe, I'd pray to end it sooner.

Blogger jp8/12/2007     

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