Pangs of Doubt

In the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, the single worst possible torture ever invented was the Total Perspective Vortex. Even worse than being tied down to a chair and forced to listen to abysally hideous Vogon poetry, this evil device can shred a man's very soul and destroy him from the inside.

Anyone strapped inside this nefarious device would see the universe in its infinite totality... all possible creatures, worlds, technologies, stretching out from galaxy to galaxy, from the start of time itself to the end of the world as we know it.

And then focus on him: a infinitely miniscule dot.

As to what would happen, the observer would realize his absolute insignificance in the world. No matter how great he was, no matter how large his contributions were for the world, Whether he stood up for what he believed in or stood idly by and whether he lived or died... he is but a small atom in the vastness of the galaxy.

Whatever his contributions, someone else can do later on. Whatever his legacy, no one will really miss. Whoever he is, as far as the galaxy is concerned, he is nothing worth caring about.

And thus, he will doubt whatever he believed in. He will lose his will to live, and he will be broken.

Absolutely cruel and soulless. And downright scary.

Thats how i feel now. Small, powerless and hopelessly insignificant. Fighting for even the recognition of my existence in an uncaring world, living life one day at a time, struggling to reach the dawn each time. And doubting if im even doing the right thing.

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Almost five years ago i laid out my plans for the life i wanted: By twenty-five i'd have an MBA, by twenty eight id have my first porsche, by thirty id be the most eligible bachelor in manila and by thirty eight the fastest rising political star in the philippines. And i would lead this country back to its glory.

Well, im a few months away from turning a quarter of a decade old, and i am a far cry from what i want to be. I've had a lot of reasons -- Bouts of asthma hit me the past few years, political crises and various economic reasons forced me to delay my MBA plans and there were a number of potentially jeopardizing streaks of bad luck. Not much went my way the past few years.

But life doesnt listen to excuses. Its either you make it or you dont. You win or you lose. You're a hero or a zero.

And right now im a zero. I have failed in my commitments to myself.
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I've felt so burnt out the past few weeks. The stress, the physical drain, the sacrifices i made, was it all worth it? Almost absolutely nothing was going right for me.

The answers came to me as i was cleaning my room the other day. I stumbled upon a number of draft articles i made back in college. Feeling nostalgic, i read and re-read each one.

It brought me back in that point back in my senior year where i was getting so frustratedly bored with my course. I had also just realized my passion for writing and applied as editor for the features section of the school paper where i was currently a writer.

At that time, i was so obsessed with writing, and was starting to seriously hate computer related coding. I swore to myself to shift courses if i became the editor, and if i liked it, even delay a bit so i would be editor in chief. And so i entered the editorial race with gusto, knowing full well my writing experience was less than a year but fully prepared to take on the consequences.

Well, i lost the race. As a double whammy, my arch nemesis in writing became the editor. Even worse, he made life miserable for me in the school paper, seriously stunting my growth as a writer. It was a traumatic experience for me, the first time i truly felt failure.

I quit the paper then and there, dedicating myself instead to my thesis. I hit my highest GPA that year and finished the thesis way ahead of schedule. I still didnt like programming though.

Just before i graduated i ran into another series of bad turns yet again. First, i got a major sprain which had me on crutches for almost two months. This was a major blow to someone as proud, independent and active as i was. I was reduced to depending on everyone for support and suffered a really bad hit on my ego. It was two months of pure torture for me.

Of course, it was also during these crucial two months that everyone was hiring the grads like crazy. I missed out on a large number of potential employees and offers.

When i finally recovered from the sprain, I was able to secure an interview with Accenture, one of the top firms in the country. I did well in the interview, but when the interviewer realized i was connected to DOST*, he dropped me like a hot potato. I went home dejected yet again.

(*DOST requires a bond whenever a company sends their graduates abroad and they had bad experiences with DOST scholars going TNT when they send them to the states)

The next week, by some streak of luck, another top IT firm was looking for fresh grads to join a very seldom offered training program. Since i was available at that time, i took the test, the interview and passed. The offer was significantly higher than Accenture's and as an added bonus, they saw my potential not in the technical side of life, but rather in marketing and sales.

Ive been working there ever since.

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And I realized it then.

These things, would never have happened if everything were smooth sailing. If i became editor, i probably wouldnt have finished my thesis on time or would have shifted courses. If i hadnt failed in the first interview, or if i didnt sprain myself, i would never have gotten the opportunity to join my current company.

I shouldnt look at everything in as much totality as the galaxy. My life, and the lives of those around it should be enough. Whatever crisis im having right now, i would just remember nostalgically in a few years. Whatever mishaps i get into now, i would only laugh at later on. As long as im alive, i could just take life's beatings and grin. And that knowledge gives me strength.

Life will keep throwing curveballs at me. I will win some, and i will lose some. I may be down now, but not forever. Did I fail? Yes, probably. But am i out of the game? Definitely not.

Truth, Justice, in the Adrian Way...

free enneagram test

The Reformer
The principled, idealistic type. Ones are conscientious and ethical, with a strong sense of right and wrong. They are teachers, crusaders, and advocates for change: always striving to improve things, but afraid of making a mistake. Well-organized, orderly, and fastidious, they try to maintain high standards, but can slip into being critical and perfectionistic. They typically have problems with resentment and impatience. At their Best: wise, discerning, realistic, and noble. Can be morally heroic..

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Mwahahahaha!!!! Me? Morally Heroic??!! :)
Well, at least i know i hope i'll look good in shining armor :)

Some Colorful Trivia...

A friend and i were talking about his car and his most recent paint job. After a few remarks, i asked him if he were painting it 'sporty red.'

Well, no he told me. "Its more accident prone"

And then the debate started.

I said it was just a lot of bullshit about that and that the insurance guys just want to charge higher premiums for red and black.

Truth is, i said, its most probably because the most maniacal drivers like to view themselves as the racer types and get the most sporty-lookin cars available.

And red would of course be the color of choice. Plus, since red promotes aggressiveness, the already maniacal driving instincts would be more... maniacal :)

note---- Afterwards, i purposely drove slower than normal and counted the number of cars that overtook me with gusto. There were ten. Seven were red cars. Proof enough? ---

So there. Its psychological. "So you dont have to worry about accidents since youre not a psychopatic driver." I said.

And then his argument began.

Well, maybe thats the psychological angle, but the truth is, that red is the hardest color to spot at night. Not black, as i obviously thought.

First of all, black cars would look blacker than their surroundings, so you have an idea that they're there. From afar, you would even see the dark shadow coming at you.

Red cars on the other hand, for some reason, would be harder to spot at night. Thats why some drivers keep ramming into red cars and never knowing it.

Apparently the US Navy also knew about this and used red lights in their studies on night vision and stealth tactics.

Red does not ruin night vision and is overall "softer" than other lights. Its the reason why red lights are the only lights allowed for developing pictures. And the reason girls in the red light districts tend to look better than normal ;)

"Ahhh...." I said. So given the fact that red cars are harder to see, and the more mentally unstable drivers tend to use them, this would of course, increase the probability of accidents by a huge factor.

And what would be the safest? Thats a cinch. Yellow, most likely, or white right? Of course.

Satisfied with the conclusions, i went home and forgot all about it.

Until insomnia set in.

I just HAD to know for sure.

So i did a search on the internet and found out that some researchers were actually bored enough to actually study the effect of color.

The Study

After studying tons and tons of road accidents, they came to the following conclusion that the safest car is actually silver (not white, but close enough).

and most accident prone car is...

...................BROWN!!!! And they have no idea why.

Just proves that whatever logical reasons you have, you're definitely asking for trouble if your car looks like shit.

Them Damn Starstruck Kids

Im a frustrated entertainer.
Really.

When i was a kid, i dreaded family reunions.
As with every normal filipino family, this meant a time to showcase your artistic and godgiven abilities.
It was a time all the kids were lined up to dance, sing or do whatever special talents they know
And i had none of those.

One by one, my titas would talk proudly about their kids- "My baby has such a cute dance number...", "My little boy can sing the..." or "Little nene here can play the piano"
And then it starts... The session...
A dance, A song, another dance

And then it would come to me.
After the nth reunion proving that i had not a single musical or even coordinated bone in my body, i get this intro:
"My boy adrian... well, he can... umm... he can... read the encyclopedia!! See, how smart he is?"
And i just stand there, suddenly in the limelight, thinking desperately of how the hell i should show this talent
What do i do? Read in front of them?!
After the Ooohs and Ahhhs, and obviously no response from me, they move on to the next kid on the intro.

Damn, that was a frustrating time in my life.
I felt like a loser then, reading the encylopedia early on being my only claim to fame...
Luckily, i realized that there are other talents besides acting, singing and dancing
There is also... umm... ahhh... unmmm... well, other talents

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Anyways, i was watching TV awhile ago and chanced upon the Starstruck kids competition.
these were kids who had no problems whatsoever performing in front of an audience
They must have damn big families

Must be easy getting kids to join that too
I mean, if every filipino family has reunions that arent complete without the usual musical entertainment, the kids are bound to show their aptitudes early.

And all kids below 5 are cute.
I have never seen a butt ugly baby.
Or at least anyone who admitted having a butt ugly baby.
If ET were born of a filipino, the family would still squabble over who gave him the "Cute" beady eyes...
Or even the three fingers... (I could imagine one of them saying... "Ah! Si Tita Baby, ganyan yung daliri!")

Well, they should enjoy this time of their lives
They're only cute til puberty
Then they'll realize that they should have just read the encyclopedia when they were smaller

An Experimental Short Story -- The New Joey

The New Joey

Finally, the day had come.

Joey had lost his parents at an early age and had no other living relatives.
He was sent to an orphanage as a toddler and was forced to live with other little kids.
Which wasnt so bad, except that Joey FukinMoron was kinda unique.
And you know how cruel little kids can be sometimes to people who stand out. Teenagers too. Well, everyone for that matter.

All his life, Joey endured it.
Call him a loser, a wuss or whatever, he just grinned and bore it.
Outwardly at least. It tore him from the inside out.
He definitely hated his name.

Well, today would be different.
Here he was, in the regional trial court, moments away from his destiny.
He was having his name changed.
At last.

The judge called for him to call forward.
"Mr. Joey FukinMoron, is it?"
He nodded silently, quite aware of the Judge's snicker.

"I understand why you want to change your name."

Images of his orphanage life swirled around him.
Little kids announcing his arrival at every turn.
Teenagers asking the professor for another roll call.
And endless events where time and time again, Joey FukinMoron was introduced on stage.

Yes, he knew why he wanted to change his name.

No more would he become the laughingstock of the crowd, the born loser who was cursed by fate.
Joey had schemed long and hard for this day.
Blood, sweat and tears had gone into ensuring this session.
But it will be well worth it.
He now had the power to change his identity to one of power, confidence and assurance.
Unlike everyone else, he can now choose his own name.
His OWN name.

He, stepped forward. "Yes, your honor"
The Judge looked down from his pedestal and asked "And what would your new name be?"

Joey paused for the effect, making sure the Judge knew how much this meant to him.
And with his most dramatic voice, he stated the name he wanted.
"Alvin, your honor"