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| Hello hello...
Ok so, I think what I'm about to say is a bit mean, and ungrateful, but I really have to say it. There's this really big part of me that's protective of my work, and I hate it when ... Anyway, this is too difficult to articulate, but I'll try. A few days ago, I posted a short story here. I did get feedback, and I must say it threw me off. No offense, but i don't think my short story is a sad story. To have people think that it's sad only attests to my failure! That wasn't the feeling I was going for. I wrote the story, trying to prove how man can twist his own memory of events. Like we don't actually remember things correctly, because we tend to think of things OUR way.
We choose to remember things in a certain light which may or may not be the whole truth. Most of the time our version of the past isn't so far off the mark, so it doesn't matter. But sometimes we play the scenes back in our head, with the events changing every single time -- with our memory adding a few embellishments every step of the way.
We remember things the way we understand them, highlight the points we find important, ignore those we find insignificant. We remember what we want to remember, regardless of how things actually played out. The woman in the story thinks the man she met was almost god-like. She revered him. But when she met him again, she doubted. Was this god-like persona even there at all?
So maybe I'm too harsh. But I do think my art is a failure if the reader couldn't grasp what I was trying to say...
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| Note: This is a short story I wrote after staying in Hong Kong for almost a month. I met a cop patrolling a Shatin shopping mall then and was hit by the urge to write the story. I admit the genre was a bit inspired by Naguib Mahfouz's "The Wedding Song." In that story, the lead character wrote a dark script that reflected his inner evil thoughts. It twisted his sad, observer reality into a more involved fictitious "anti-hero". I was never really obsessed, but a part of me says I could actually be ... in a parallel reality.
So here goes...
IN MEMORIAM
A celebration. She popped a bottle of red wine open, humming softly to the song playing in the background. It has been three years since she first saw him. A magical moment. Brief. But she never forgot. It has always been him. Always him.
Slowly she let the crimson liquid flow into the glass, careful not to let a single drop spill. She could almost feel it flowing through her very veins, pulsing, throbbing. Bursting. It would not be long now. She went on around the table, carefully setting in place the beautiful silverware she so painstakingly polished. The red wine stood in rich contrast against the paleness of the fragile china, not unlike the blood that rushed to her face. Thoughts of him.
She did not know the lines. It did not matter. But she swayed to the song, humming along as she moved around the room. Preparing. Her eyes scanned the pristine room, searching. There is no room for error. Then it caught her eye. A ray of light bounced off the photograph. Almost lovingly she picked it up, tracing the contours of his face as she had done nine thousand nine hundred ninety-nine times before. Him.
He had smiled at her the day they met, and the world was perfect. She remembers. She let her fingers run across the smoothness of the photograph and she could feel the warmth of his skin, the soft, fragile beauty of his lips. His eyes crinkle when he smiles.
A fire burned within her as she gazed lovingly at his porcelain face. Passionate scorching. But she did not flinch. She could not take her eyes off the strange glow that seemed to emanate from his very soul. Oh, how he exuded beautiful radiance! It is unbelievable how something as mechanical as a camera could actually capture the warmth of his entirety. In some tribes in Africa they say cameras steal souls.
A sigh escaped her as she pressed the photograph to her lips. She could not help but smile at the beautiful face before her. He smiled back. An impish smile, she could not help noticing. The innocent face, the perfect, creaseless uniform, not a single hair out of place. But nothing could hide the darkness that lurked somewhere behind the saintly façade. An angel with a bruised halo.
nothing is real…
Yet she knew that it was HIM. Nobody but him. His ethereal beauty has clouded her mind for years. At times she would even dream of the way he had breathed hello on their first meeting. She closed her eyes, thinking of how he had caressed her hand, had shaken it so lightly as society dictated. Raptures. She let out a feverish cry, leaning against the table to steady herself. Her knuckles turned white from gripping the table’s edge.
The clock struck two. Her eyes flew open. With great urgency she gathered her things and stepped out the door, taking one last look at her apartment to check that everything was in place. It is time. Tonight she will have him. Tonight will make up for all the nights she had endured without his warmth. Tonight she will have his strength, receive all that his flesh has to offer. Drink of his very soul. One.
She heard the lock click into place, and her pulse jumped a notch. There was no turning back. Heavily she breathed, her nostrils heaving slightly with every inhale and exhale. With great haste she walked down the empty hallway, unmindful of the stuffy air that belabored her breathing. Ceremoniously she pressed the elevator button and waited with bated breath. In her mind’s eye, she could see him with his arms open, ready to take her in. His smile. His smile.
The sound of the elevator arriving at her floor reverberated throughout the soulless hallway and jolted her back to her senses. She ran in and pressed the “close door” button four times in rapid succession. She will not be late. Not after three years of anticipation.
The chime went off, signaling her descent. She took off, barely looking at anything at all. One thing occupied her mind. It was not long before a cab parked in front of her semi-conscious self. She got in, mumbling the address to the driver and asking him to hurry. She might have said ‘hurry’ twice. Thrice. But the driver took no notice.
Mindlessly she bit off the flesh around her nails, finally catching the driver’s attention. He looked at her strangely, like he had never seen anyone like her before. Rather frightened by the glazed look in her eyes, the driver shifted in his seat, careful not to give her a chance to strangle him with the scarf she wore around her neck. Not that she cared though.
An eternity passed before the cab halted in front of a police station. The meter read 39. She threw fifty bucks at him, unmindful of the way he was trying to get as far away from her as physically possible in the cramp taxi. He heaved a sigh of relief as the door of the taxi slammed into position. He really should choose his passengers from now on.
She took no heed of the fleeing taxi, and calmly climbed the steps leading towards the entrance. The familiar uniform greeted her eyes, and her heart inexplicably leapt up two notches. Discreetly she ran her fingers through her hair, hoping that there were no lipstick stains on her teeth to mar her smile. The man at the door looked at her questioningly, and she responded by handing him the photograph. Recognition filled his face, and he pointed her towards the desks that populate the station.
What is at the end of eternity? She was about to know. She had waited, and now the gods had favored her with a chance to be reunited with him. She walked past each desk, carefully searching for the man who had filled her dreams for years. But he was not there. Her heart thumped wildly as she searched each face. But he was not there. Still she continued, unmindful of the stares and bewildered looks that came her way. She would find him.
She turned to the man nearest her and showed him the photograph. Knowingly, he pointed towards the farthest desk, one partly hidden from view. The knots in her stomach loosened and she could breathe again. Excitedly she moved towards the far end of the room, forgetting to thank the man she had asked for directions. At last.
She could almost see his face now, partially hidden by the monstrous computer monitor. Yet she was definite that she had found him. Him. She made a small choking sound in her throat, enough to wrestle his attention away from his work. He turned to smile at her, but was horrified by the look on her face. She backed off, terror gleaming in her eyes. Her knees weakened.
It was not him. And yet, she knew it was. Her hands fumbled for the photograph. The same eyes, the same smile, she noted. And yet, it was different. There was no radiance, none of the flashy aura that had captured her heart the day they met. There was no glow, no warmth. The special beauty that had drawn her to his image was gone. But had it been there at all?
She shuddered at the thought that he could actually be almost, well … ordinary.
He stood up to steady her, but she had already regained her composure. Calmly she left the station, leaving behind a bewildered look on his face.
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| 11:24 PM
It's been months since I last blogged. Yeah, I know...it's been a long while. I guess the flurry of things that have been happening just overwhelmed me. I know I was harping about my really cool new job and how much I loved it. Well scrap all that. I must really be running low on luck these days.
Everything was fine until our trip to Hong Kong. THat's when our department director's true colors really showed. She was my room mate in China, too. So how do I put this as properly as I can? I HATE HER. Absolutely, without any question.
I'm not a person who easily hates. Yes I'm irritable, specially when I'm tired, but I don't hate people easily. I'm usually calm. So what did she do to earn my intense hatred?
1. She's spreading rumors about me in the office. I have this guy officemate who's a really good friend, and we often buy food together. She started telling evrybody how I was flirting with the guy. Actually, she's the one who likes the guy. I even have the hunch that she's just spreading the rumors just to get back at me for being so friendly with the guy she likes. She's married by the way, and my friend has a girlfriend. So much for office romance right?
2. She's intentionally magnifying my mistakes. I made a mistake once in a draft I sent to her. It was a DRAFT, and drafts are not supposed to be perfect. She sent the draft to our SVP for no reason at all. Except to show him how stupid I was I guess. It was a very minor slip-up. She dislikes the fact that the SVP favors me over her. She makes up stories and debunks my research. She's so damn lazy and I have to pick up after her all the time.
3. She doesn't work. At all. She always has a million excuses. Always out on a break, too. And she complains because I take a long lunch break. Long by her standards? I don't think so. I use up the 1 hour break I'm alloted. She disappears for four hours, returns at 4 PM (which is supposed to be the time I get off work) and expects me to do over time. I do all the work for the entire division, and she still claims that I don't work well enough. I'm working my ass off while she bums around and I'm still a bad employee?!
4. She tortures me. When we're together in China, I can hardly expect to get enough sleep for several days in a row. She forces me to listen to her endless chatter, makes me call room service for stupid reasons, keeps me working till 3 AM in the morning! That's why I'm always ill after a trip. But I still go to work the next day after we fly home. I'm a dedicated worker, despite all the bad feelings I already have.
Last friday was the last straw. She made me do a study for our trip and then when I submitted it to her, she proclaimed my output useless, denying that it was what she wanted me to do. She screamed at me in front of the entire section. I stood still for a few minutes, staring at her. It was crazy. I think for one split second there I actually wanted to grab the cutter and slit her throat.
I was seriously considering typing my resignation right there and then. I wanted to slap it on her face and see her reaction. I think I really should beat her up before I resign. But common sense got the better of me, and I calmed myself down. I swear that if I hadn't done that I really could have killed her. I'm so not kidding.
I don't think I've ever hated somebody that much. The only reason she got to her position is because she's such a "Loyal" employee. And I don't mean that in a good way. She's a total ass-kisser, and there's no way her credentials could have brought her to her position. She hates me because I graduated Magna cum Laude and she's a college drop-out.
She's always telling me I have an attitude problem. That I'm stubborn and that I have a tendency to go against authority. That I always talk back and I'm disrespectful. She even told me to know the line, because she's still my boss. I'm never intentionally disrespectful. I'm sick of her putting me down, of her treating me like dirt when I know that I can do her job better than she does. She's insecure, and it's my fault? Our company favors LOYALTY OVER ABILITY. Stupid workers who are committed to the job are worked to death, while suck-ups get all the credit. Is that retarded, or what?
I can't help the fact that I work really well, and that it overshadows her mediocre performance. I'm sick of her trying to kick me out of the office. She wants me out so she can cling to her stupid director job. I don't care about positions. I'm just glad to have a decent job. Turns out I can't even have that. I'm so tired of being her punching bag. Yes, she even hurts me physically, although she makes it seem like she's kidding. She once pinched me hard for talking to the guy she liked. She pinched me while telling me what a flirt I was.
ANybody who knows me can tell that I'm no flirt. I couldn't even look at PRince! It's crazy. I go bonkers when I like someone, but I don't have the slightest guts to flirt. I even told the guy, and he was shocked. We're seriously considering putting up a performance just to piss her off.
The worst news is, I'm going to China with her next week. I won't have any option but to follow her orders. Or maybe I do. If I really can't stand her anymore, I'll pick up my things and leave her in Shenzhen. Then, I'll take the Train to HK from Lowu and live with my aunt. I don't care anymore. I'm just so sick of her.
So I guess that answers your question, CC... I'm not fine. Pray for me if I ever lose control and break her neck. | | |
| 3:25 PM
5 minutes before I leave this office. Not for good, though. That won't happen in the near future. But I am pissed. Absolutely. I'm supposed to go to a trade fair tomorrow with my boss, but now the "Founder" just declared that we will have to change the schedule. We're leaving on the 14th, which gives us just three more days to join the fair. Grrr.
But despite all the things that grate my nerve around here -- including my manager -- i don't think i'll be leaving soon. I intend to milk this job for all it's worth you know. I want to learn everything i can about marketing and business development before I leave. And then, after gaining experience, I'll look for a bigger company to work for! Sounds great? I think I can stay around 6months to 1 year in this company max.
More later. | | |
| 3:08 PM
Just 22 minutes left before I leave the office. It's absolutely peaceful around here today without my manager hanging ver my sholder every single minute. He got sick, and I sympathize ... errr ... not really. Yesterday, he got pretty pissed off after I told him what I thought of his report. I know, he's the boss, but he ws the one who asked for my opinion in the first place. Besides, it wasn't like I was disrespectful or something. I was just telling the truth.
So I don't like him, but I don't want him to get into trouble either. But it just irritates me that he can't finish one single report when I've already done 5! I'm sick of him asking for my opinion then not getting it right anyway. Crazy.
I didn't get to watch Mars last Saturday because I was out with friends. Went to out high school reunion but couldn't stay for long. Few of my old classmates were there. What really drove me nuts that night was one classmate who was completely boasting. She's now a marketing officer for the talent casting office of the Philippine's biggest TV station.
So?! Who cares if you work for a big shot company? You're still a foot soldier. I kept quiet till she started boasting about her "BIG" salary. Yeah right. Turns out I earn much much more than Ms. Big Shot. SO you see, I'm not sour-graping, because I actually have a better job and better pay. I just hate people who are too proud of themselves.
I didn't say anything about my job because I'm not like that at all. But my pal got so pissed she started telling everyone there how great my job is. I started laughing and just played along. It's all true anyway. But I'm not one to gloat. More later. | | |
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