The Fine Line Between Sanity and Insanity

You don’t have to read this. Back off.

I genuinely cannot distinguish something that’s absurdly insane from something that’s just sane. The past months, I have been moon-walking back and forth these two territories and most of the time I’m somewhere in between. I’m not so sure if that is a good thing or not.

Who is to judge what is sane and what’s not? I believe, or at least I did at some points, that what we believe as the crazy man is the sane one; he doesn’t care about the world, he’s got no problems, he thinks he’s fine. Of course they do live in a microscope, but do they even give a damn about it? That’s how I wish I was sane enough to realize this early on.

People are too consumed by the world and its wonders creating rules and standards for everything there is. I do admit rules keeps us away from chaos, but it does make us predictable and stale. The magic is gone, we are robots. And that is insane.

Most people would hear me say that I’m currently tiptoe-ing on that fine line between sanity and insanity. What’s keeping me from crossing over? What’s there to be afraid of? I wish to be crazy but. I could not go on because of the infinite buts there is. Again, what’s keeping me from doing what I really want.

And I call myself a renegade? Pssh. What a coward.

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I’m the curbside prophet and I’m crazy demmit.

p.s. I’m just doing this random, senseless, i dunno post just to divert myself with some other pressing issue.

And This Legacy Award Goes To..

I have this Rizal class later this afternoon, and up to now I still have no homework to present. That is– to present in class your legacy in a creative way. Creative I can do, but do I really have my own legacy? This is something that has been bugging me for the past days with no resolution at all. If I don’t have a legacy at least I have this essay to present in class later on. Or let’s just see if I pick up something along the way.

As I have expressed from previous posts, I never excelled greatly at something. I’m your typical jack of all trades, not bad but not good as well. It actually sucks thinking you have nothing special about you, or at least that is what I think of myself. Let me just run down to the things that are on top of my list now.

Yes, I watch a handful, err a gazillion of TV shows, but what legacy does that give me? “The Legacy of Couch Potato”. I would have been proud of that, but that’s something my professor would not accept I assume. I mean, what makes watching a loooot of tv shows a legacy. Right?

Or maybe “The Legacy of Apathy.” If you have been around me for some time, you would know that my rule number one in life is: DO NOT CARE. Because when you do, things complicate and I am awkward in complex situations. At least when you don’t, nothing’s harmed and nothing’s lost. And again, is that a legacy my professor would accept? I doubt as well.

Oh of course, I go with the flow. And I somehow, in a way, sort of, roll with the punches. When life gives me lemons, I make lemonades. And when life gives me lemonades, I will make lemons. And then life will be like– whaaaat? Hmyeah, I got that from Phil Dunphy’s Phil’s-o-sophy. But the point is, I could get “The Legacy of Spontaneity”. Another proof I could get that legacy is I am writing this article with thoughts flowing right from the top of my head uncensored.

Oh yes, “Legacy of Bitterness”. If the basis for winning this award is the number of things someone hates in this world, then I would be the winner. Most people who know me can attest to that. It’s just that almost everything annoys me, yet here I am annoying you. But really, a legacy? Would my professor even take that? Right.

Or maybe, just maybe, because I’m just average at everything, someone else always beats me at a certain category, I should get “Legacy of Jack of All Trades”. But heck, there are people even better than me on this one. The above average jack of all trades.

I am exhausted. Thinking of what other legacies I could call mine and something I could pass unto my successors. But hey, I’m supposed to be selfish, I don’t wanna pass something that’s mine. And I am just saying that because I know nothing is mine. This has always been the case, always the nominee and never the winner. I am so used to it.

So, to answer my question.. no, I don’t have a legacy. That’s something. At least I know I have something that’s missing that eventually I’ll have to ask myself again in five years time. And professor, I am sorry I don’t have my homework. My dog ate it. Heck, I don’t even have a dog. But really, I’m just a screw up.

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I’m just the curbside prophet, and that’s all I got.

City Etiquette

When you decide to hit the big cities, expect that things will be quite different than what things are in your regular city. I did expect things differently, and I guess I overestimated what the city brings. Yes, it was crowded, very tall buildings, LRTs and MRTs, very long and congested highways, malls everywhere, extremely busy people who walk with a faster pace and all the likes. I expected all those, and I guess I expected too much. But my point is, how do you really adjust to the city living?

1. Trust no one. 

In a big city, you only have yourself to trust, or at least your companions. Everyone else is working at their own pace, time is always at their tails. As one of my companions have observed, they look like they are always running. The point is, time is not something they cannot waste as it is the fuel that makes the big cities tick. You can’t trust these people because this is a world of survival, only the fittest survive. Because if you can’t cope with the pace, the city will eat you out alive.

2. Get hydrated.

In your attempts at catching up with their pace, make sure that you have enough energy to get you going. People are wired relatively different in the cities. They make sure that they make it out alive at the end of the day, and also ready to survive yet another day.

3. Adjust with the culture.

Try your best to cope with the people around you. Usually, language is the barrier. That is why, it is best if you travel alone so that you are forced to adjust to how people are in the place you are at. Because if you travel by bulk, you would just feel like you are walking on the same ground. Observe how people do it.

4. Dare to stand out.

Don’t focus too much on adjusting that you are losing your sense of identity. Always be yourself. Don’t hesitate asking questions from strangers. HAHAHA

At least try following these tips because really, people will try to take advantage and fool you if you look too naive and trusting for a big city.

And really, I am not supposed to be here now, I should be reviewing or sleeping for tomorrow’s competition.. So I’m just gonna end this post hanging.

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I’m the curbside prophet, and I’m looking for my rocket.

LOVE: Because I don’t talk about it that much

LOVE.

I never expected  that I would end up writing something about love in this blog. Heck, I couldn’t even feel at ease typing out the letters to spell the word. But whatever, let see how this goes.

For starters, I just think being in love is so clingy, needy, intimate and blehk. It makes you do things, say words, dream hopelessly about things you won’t ever do when you are in your right mind. It is a drug that alters the way you normally live your life. It is dangerous. It is troublesome. It is not even logical at all.

I have seen the crazy things people do for the sake of the L-word. By crazy I mean re-adjusting your crazy scale because it is over the top. I have seen people get hurt for giving in too much, for missing a lot, for what else things love demands. Oh wait, am I describing a follower, a help or a servant maybe? Pardon that.

But who am I to say all these? From an observer’s point of view, it is what it is. And to be really honest, I am horrified of the day I will take back all I’m posting in here. Because if the L-word is there, commitment will follow, then more responsibilities. And to top everything off, I’m perfectly good at screwing all those things up. So avoid as much as possible.

But one thing I know is for sure, it is not the drug I want to mess with. I’ll take it moderately.

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I’m just the curbside prophet and I can’t say the L-word.

Nothing.

I promised to myself that I would jump start my year with a blog post about my Sinulog experience, which was more than crazy and more than what I expected, and this post is not that one yet. Soon enough.

My January was a bit of a drag despite the constant pressures and demands my acads are bringing. So far I’m coping up well, and I see a little glimmer of light for my thesis, and hopefully, without all the laziness and slacking, I intend to finish my thesis on or before the third week of February. Also, my identity of being the TV show junkie has been shelf-ed for some reason I really cannot explain. I’ve been weeks delayed with some TV shows. I haven’t even seen the entirety of the finale of The Voice.

BTW, what the heck am I doing right now blogging when in fact I am supposed to be in a whirl wind of academics stuff? I should be doing all those if I want to graduate April this year. Yeah, I have brewed 10-cups worth of coffee just to keep me awake though out the night. Anyone wanna join me in a vigil, thanks. I’ll need all the help I can get. While I am supposed to be writing all my thoughts to a Comparative Movie Review for our Rizal class, here I am. Again, what am I doing in here?

Here’s a little fact: you do a lot of work when you wear your shoes because you feel busy. So yes, I have not changed from the clothes I wore today. I still have my shoes on. That is how dedicated I am to not sleeping and doing all the things I am supposed to be doing but here I am blabbering like I have the time to do so and posting it online.

Tomorrow, I’ll be taking an exam which I have no basis as to what type of exam it is. I hope it’s the type of exam where I get a good mark. I sure hope so. Tomorrow, I’ll be asking my thesis adviser for updates. Yeah, it is the student who is asking for updates from his adviser. I live my student life that way.

Woah. And I just woke up to my senses. What kind of gibberish blahs am I writing in here and why am I doing this? I dunno. If someone reading this gets up to this point, go ask help from a shrink. I salute you for bearing with my unorganized and senseless thoughts right now. Srsly, pat yourself in the back. You deserve it.

Maybe it’s just the side effects of caffeine overdose or what not, but I’m pretty sure I’d look like a trainwreck tomorrow. So here’s to a night of taking things seriously. And I promise that my succeeding posts will make a lot of sense (I hope it is the Sinulog post). And I also promise that will organize my “Categories” because the current ones are not making a lot of sense. Just like this post.

Attention-seeking much?

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It’s 2013 and I’m still the curbside prophet and seriously hoping for my rocket to come.

The Last Day on Earth

(c) to the owner of the artwork

It is December 20, 2012  5:21 PM in my timezone, and the Mayan calendar suggests that the world will rapture a few hours from now. No one really knows what time around the 21st of December the apocalypse will begin. But one thing is for sure, tomorrow me and my friends will have an End of the World / 2012 Movie Film Viewing Party. That’s if time won’t end at exactly on the first second of the assumed end of the world.

So how do you really want to spend your last day on Earth? If you knew that the Mayan Apocalypse was true, how would this day be any different from your regular days? If it were me, I would not feel bad if the world would end tomorrow clearly because I’m dearly bugged by my thesis and my just-do-your-thing-because-I’ll-just-wait-for-you-to-finish thesis adviser makes me feel the pressure of NOT graduating on time. Phew! Deadlines here and there, that’s enough reason for me to hope for apocalypse to begin on cue. I’m not being selfish right here, because my classmates would want it to happen as well. That way, everyone would  die (I assume) and all our dreams, aspirations and even our worries and miseries would go along with our tragic death. Everything after the end of our generation wouldn’t matter anyways since we can’t do anything about it. Plus, our consciousness would be very dead by then. There’s nothing to be guilty for. Fair enough?

So how am I spending my assumed last day on Earth? Well, here I am creating this last blog post sipping on my last cup of coffee waiting for the disaster movie from 2009 depicting how the world would end tomorrow to finish downloading. Timely, huh? Well I made myself a promise that I would watch that movie on the date that they said is the beginning of the end.

But that is not how I would have spent my last day on Earth. A great TV show starring Matthew Perry inspired me how I would do it– LAUGH. CRY. THINK.

I haven’t done at least one of the three, at least for now. And I would not want to die tomorrow with me knowing I haven’t done what I intended to do on my last day. So here’s to hoping the Mayans were wrong. Do want you gotta do while we’re still alive and breathing.

And a word of advise– DON’T DIE A VIRGIN.

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I’m still the curbside prophet with my hands on my pocket and anxiously waiting for that damn rocket to come!

What’s your name worth?

 

In lieu of the just recently concluded Survivor: Philippines, I would like to share this post I made December 20 of last year. This post was from my other blog, which I would not want to link here because I don’t have that much confidence on that old blog. This entry has a handful of references to the finale episode of Survivor: Nicaragua

Here we go…

Hell yea~, the first 5 minutes of the finale was intense and showed the remaining castaways in the light to why they should win and why they were there.

For me, this episode was more about (1) my personality coming off as very blunt and arrogant, to the point that people are intimidated by me, (2) what is my name worth, and lastly (3) a new blend of faith, and the current faith that I have.

Noticing from my previous posts, most people would most likely hate me at an instant. Many of my friends and even my relatives say I talk with arrogance. Yes, I would confirm that! But to me, that’s better than being seen as a weak individual, because I really am weak inside. This facade seems to be effective because it fends off possible personalities that might tear me down. Ozzy called Sophie a brat, but I can see where Sophie stands at this, and she even broke down. 

What’s your name worth?

Who would have thought that the infamous Rick would blow my mind so hard, the title of this post was a quote from him during the last tribal council. Reputation– it’s one of my kryptonites. I hate putting up a good name for yourself, and in an instant all that you have is a bad reputation. Why not have a bad reputation from the start, and when you do anything good, people would praise you, and doing something bad people would not seem to care. Brilliant isn’t it?

The blind faith game

Also, Ozzy finds his god in nature, it’s where he thinks god lives, and it fuels him to survive the harsh environment with ease.

This post seems to be pointless and out of nowhere, but who cares. It’s mine and it makes me feel good! 

So what makes reputation my weakness? It’s not MY reputation that I call my weakness, it’s my father’s. Ever since I was young, all I could hear from him was, “Do good, or what would other people say. I taught you right, learn to act correctly.”  It’s like being someone’s pet. He’s just in it for himself. But still, he’s my father. But oh well~

Moving on, and talking about R.E.M.’s famous song, all I made were funny faces every time Brandon talked about religion. As Ozzy said, “He’s playing the blind faith game. He thinks he’s playing with god, but he’s not. He’s playing with human beings who are greedy for that money.” I would not explain this further, but f*ck yeah!

Also, Ozzy finds his god in nature, it’s where he thinks god lives, and it fuels him to survive the harsh environment with ease.

This post seems to be pointless and out of nowhere, but who cares. It’s mine and it makes me feel good! 

P.S. I may or may have edited a few things in this entry because, meh, so icky and not me.

I’m just a curbside prophet and no money on my pocket so bring me back my rocket!

Triple the Fun. NOT.

Supposedly, this day is taglined “It’s Triple the Fun in STEC Fun Day”. Just set the ambiance up of what a FUN alumni day is on your mind. Now think of the opposite. That’s how fun it is right now. Imagine, I was able to get into blogging mode and found myself a spot in this old computer lab.

The teachers were expecting AT LEAST 50 people to come. Imagine alumni, and 50. Too few for a number, eh. But the turnout was underwhelming. Clearly a great way to spend a chillout Sunday Funday. And of course, I wouldn’t allow myself to be stuck in this haywire for the whole day. Do you hear what I hear? The air is hissing on my ears: “BAIL. BAIL. BAIL.”

You see, I’m not a day drinker because I just am not. But if anyone is offering me a one-way ticket out of here, wherever I may end up.. I would take that. Muhahahaha, and I feel so evil posting this on my blog with the possibility of the organizers reading this post and *might* do sour faces and hate me forever. HAHA, sorry I’m not sorry.

Actually, one friend is offering an escape plan, and I think it’s where I will find my Sunday fun. If that experience is blog-worthy, then that will be up soon enough. YEAH!

So yeah, this entry is just one big rant and shoutout to boredom in event that’s supposedly FUN.

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I’m still the curbside prophet, hands tapping out beats and my rocket should be here any minute..