Resigned to My Fate

"The idea is to remain in a state of constant departure while always arriving. Saves on introductions and goodbyes. The ride does not require an explanation, just occupants."

-- excerpt from Richard Linklater's Waking Life

Today I faced my anxieties the way I faced them last night -- with resignation to a force greater than life. The only way for me to live with myself is to come clean once and for all, and to accept both my strengths and limitations as a person. After all, even with the most potent dose of Prothiaden, I'm still as fragile as anybody, just a bit more attractive and wiser. LOL

My intellect may be more "exercised" and my emotional "landscapes" may be more traveled on than the average person's, but I'm still bound by physiology, still bound by the same chemical-electrical processes inside my cranium, still bound to the same needs and wants like anyone else. The only thing that makes me different from anyone else, I surmise, is my written output, my imprint in this rapidly changing world we live in. It is what we come up with our lives that distinguishes us ultimately from the rest of the pack. Everyone perceives the human experience differently and expresses these experiences with equal diversity. Hence, all of you who are able to read and comment on my blog entries are witnesses of my existence, that sometime in the Age of Aquarius, an entity who shot up on mood uppers and called himself ©^ennui graced this planet and lived to tell his sordid existence as a post-suicidal quarterlife crisis counselor and chronicler of sorts. This blog serves as the cave that keeps my hand prints and hunting stories on its walls, my rosetta stone of truths and half-baked realizations.

And on this particular day, I chose to come clean by not letting my friend cover up for my lack of initiative (or interest, I should say.) I simply communicated my side of the story the way I needed to. Although it all went well and I wasn't "okray-ed" at like I was expecting, I lost this round again because I wasn't ready to fight with all my strength. I was still too reserved, too safely deciding when and where to take the swing. In the last round, I ended up knocking myself out with the nerves. On the brighter side though, I got paid for it. The quickest two-week title bout of embarrassment that was.

At the end of the day, I hugged all my supporters. I never expected to get so attached to them in such a short time.


My face was blank the first few hours in the office. My mind was somewhere else in the dark clouds of the emerging storm, trying to gauge what signal it could be for me. I was noticeably aloof, in limbo again, albeit with more optimism via the belief that after the storm would come a fresh beam of sunlight that would streak across the horizon and lead me the way to greener pastures.


Till then, I would be burning the leaves with my lungs.