It's Better than Eating Alone

Thursday, February 23, 2006

Welcome to My World

As a graduate of Mass Communications, I can't begin to tell you how a job that I've held on to for 4 years now have been so, shall I say, distracting. I teach computers. Manage the network systems. And get this - I've recently installed our Wi-fi system. Four and a half years of college did not prepare me for these, but so far, I am successful (of course, that is, to my terms).

In the end I am still loyal to my Mass Communication roots however.

But that is just a sideswipe of this frustration I have now. I live in the campus, and ever since I gave up my own Internet account in favor of the 24-hour DSL service in my computer lab, I have been deprived of Internet access at my own apartment. I have a second-hand computer system that a friend gave me, souped it up, and now its dual-booting into Ubuntu GNU/Linux. I have a 17-inch screen, and a mock-up of the Mac OS X as my Windows Theme. Its beautiful. It's perfect. But guess what, I don't have Internet access, still. The problem? The doggone antennas that I assembled and our maintenance guy set up, doesn't "see" our apartment. You've guessed it, deadspot. Oh, did I tell you that my roomate, who has a laptop, can wirelessly connect to the system OUTSIDE of our apartment?

I've been living this life, as far as I can remember. I toil and dedicate, for other people, and try to solve their lackings. Try to make sure they're comfortable. Tried to make sure everything could happen for them. Checklist, I have suffered the consequences. I now have the right to say and scream, "What about ME? What about what I need?" Right now my peers are enjoying broadband through the air. I, on the other hand, am stuck with my lab, and reminders of work.

Then again, I've made this philosophy to be the turning point of an ever-exciting, and ever-determined life. "I am happy when I can make others happy." With that, I pause.

Thursday, February 16, 2006


I end up screaming into my pillow in some days.

I was telling roomie Isaac last night how long it has been since my last blog. I think about it and in the back of my mind say, "Nah, nobody reads you anymore." Changes. Hehe. But old osang was asking for posts, and after I told her how maniacally depressed I was the other day, told me to just start writing again. Thanks for that.

I am not easily cured, however. For nights I haven't been getting any sleep, although my sleeping pills (reading) have been taken in double doses. At points I blame my newfound liking of online curiousities, but I've been offline by 9PM for all the other nights. I saw, however, a gaping hole. I'm afraid.

I'm afraid that I'm not being fruitful, even as a human being. My stagnations have caused so many dillusions, so many insecurities that seem to cloud my mind. Am I worth a person that I am now? I keep asking. I seem have been inside the same routine, the same paraphrases. I look at myself in the mirror and ask? What am I doing with my life?

I feel afraid that I'll just stand one day in the whole compounds of this world, and stare, and serve no other purpose, but to stand and stare.