An idea for a blog comes to mind. Most are based from own experiences while some are stories of other people. Your own story, your friends’ and officemates’ or a newly – acquired peer’s chronicle will be woven into what will be your next post for the day.

You start typing these ideas but will be lost halfway before you finish your first paragraph. Does this sound right? Is this coherent enough?

You hit those keys but you’re not satisfied. Suddenly, hitting the backspace and delete keys seems quite appealing. You delete.

Type, type, and again you type.

Hmmn… this is not good enough. Backspace key, delete.

Type again. Delete some. Delete some more.

Select all. Clear.

All those ideas are now staring at you as a blank page.

You have to exercise those brain cells. You must think. You need to concentrate. But again, you failed.

So much for your wait-‘til-you-read-this masterpiece…

But what the heck! It is as if anybody would care about what you will write. And if they do care, you don’t. Do you? You could be in for eternal damnation but you will write what you want to write. And you need not be apologetic about it. Even if your grammar is unforgivable; even if your story sucks, big time! It is your story. If you don’t like them, who would?

Now you start typing again. Words flow freely like an endless stream. You’re now hitting the alphabet keys like there’s no tomorrow. Your fingers can even seem to catch up with your brain. Your Pandora’s Box of ideas is now finally open.

Open sesame!

Eureka! Eureka!

You’re free, at last.

Before you know it, you’re done. You actually like what you’re now reading, and can’t seem to get over it. The more you read and reread your ‘new baby’, the more you fall in love. Narcissist…

You’re convinced that you’re the next Hemingway, King, Rowling, Sheldon, Tolkien and Zafra. But you know you’re just kidding yourself.

An icing on the cake would be – a good title. Be sure not to have an ordinary title. Not too predictable for it may not give everything away, nor too ‘out-there’ you don’t know where it came from.

And definitely, not like this one’s.

Last Goodbye

"I know I was doing the right decision. But where does that brought me?

I am here inside the bus going to Manila. Looking at the outside world, I can’t help but reminisce of all the moments that Robert and I shared. Looking back, those were the happiest moments of my life. Those shared kisses, embrace and all the times that we’re together. Together we dream dreams and cry and laugh our hearts out, and fight. Yes, we fight ever so often, but we always end up kissing and making up for it – literally and figuratively.

Those were the days. Days that were, but only memories now. No more movies to watch together. No more dreams to dream and fulfill together. No more of those long hours of talking or simply sharing each others’ souls. No more Robert. No more Dannie and Robert.

I did not only lose a boyfriend. I lost my bestfriend as well. He was always there for me. When I needed someone to listen to my problems, even how petty they are… when I needed someone to lift up my spirits when I’m feeling down… when I needed someone to laugh at my self – made corny jokes… when I wanted a hug… when I am in need of a compatriot in times I feel like the world’s against me…when I need someone to tell me to hang on when I almost give up…

I still love him. I can’t deny that. Nor that I could take that away from myself. I will surely miss that bastard. As I do now.

As the bus started it’s way en-route Manila, I steadied myself in the window seat. It will be any moment now.

The bus slowly approached his place. From afar I could see his silhouetted physique in his place’s balcony. I hope he won’t see me. But I really wanted to see him – even for the last time.

He did saw me! It’s so foolish of me to take that seat.

Our eyes met, and I can honestly say he said those three words I haven’t heard for a long time, and probably will be hearing for the last time.

I did not exactly hear the words, but I saw his lips forming those syllables I had been so accustomed to. I looked at him, but this time with all my emotions suppressed inside I hope my eyes could all say.

A nanosecond of eye – contact is enough; I could not take it anymore! I looked the opposite way.

…And cried my way home."

to be concluded...

If one is to ask how I’m currently doing at work, I would probably answer either one or a combination of the following:

1. I’m stressed out!
2. I’m burnt out!
3. Work is toxic.
4. Work sucks!

I could go on and on ranting about the frustrations of my professional life but there’s really no need for that. I usually channel these complaints to my bestfriend, Cecille, everytime we see each other after office hours.

That’s one of the best things if you have your bestfriend working at the same area or vicinity. Since college, we have been each others’ waste baskets, taking turns from time to time. Lately, I’m the one blabbing tell – tales of a sorry, pitiful accountant’s life. I can only envy her for having the opposite case. That is, until…

She told me that she’s getting sick and tired of, take this – doing nothing. Not nothing nothing but nothing accounting - related works.

Her company is quite lenient on its staff that they can do the work at their own pace – without foregoing deadlines and needed reports. Aside from these requirements, their work is pretty much stress – free. Another thing is that their department is situated at a different unit/room excluded from the main office where all the other departments are. They have the room all for themselves.

Cecille told me that their officemates [from the other departments] has another, more popular name for their department – beauty parlor.

Since all of them in the department are girls, there’s an unlimited supply of vanity products if one of them had forgotten hers – pressed powder, foundation, lipstick, lip liner, eye shadow, eyelash curler, masscara, eyeliner, blush – on, lip gloss, lip balm, hair brush, comb, twissors [or is it twizzers?], eyebrow brush, facial cleansers, moisturizers, sunblock, concealers, etc.

But there’s more to their arsenal why it is called as such. Just imagine an office with these – life-size mirror, hair blower, hair straightening iron and beauty magazines. I have been there once and I was really in awe. I even had my hair ‘ironed’ and ‘straightened’ that day.

Most of the time, Cecille is looking for something productive to do, even if it’s not at all related to her everyday tasks. Like reading and reviewing her taxation, law and accounting books or just analyzing and dissecting the reports she made based on what she read.

But as she is already familiar and had gotten a good grasp of these ‘extra’ works, she finishes these in no time. What to do next? I was laughing my head off when she told me.

That they’re conducting spelling contests!

Amidst our laughter, I told her to start inventing other things to do before they find themselves playing poker or ‘tong-its’ next time around. I know for a fact that she doesn’t want this – for Cecille really is a serious and focused person. But it’s really good to see her letting her hair down and having fun once in a while.

It makes me feel guilty for having so much to do. Maybe it's true. That you really can’t have it all!

The Pains of Letting Go

"Seeing the other woman with her bulging tummy is like a slap on my face. A thousand slaps, left and right, or more the very second I saw it. But it’s not just a slap on my face. I can only wish it’s just a mere slap or any physical harm which I can still bear, all for my love for Robert. But it’s not as simple as that.

What I saw bruised my ego, insulted my femininity and wounded my heart. All this time I was pretty confident of his love, that he could do no wrong. But he just caused me the most unbearable pain one can suffer.

He broke my heart.

I was a bit surprise in spite of myself that I wasn’t thrown into a hysterical fit. I wanted to scream, to cry my lungs out, to curse the girl for God knows what – but I didn’t. Woman’s instinct tells me that a verbal or physical confrontation is the last thing she needs in her current state. It’s the child. Robert’s first child!

Seeing that afraid and uneasy look in her eye, I understand why. Why she allowed this to happen to her. She loves Robert. She’s crazily in love with him that she allowed herself to be impregnated by a cheater. Robert no less!

I suddenly heard myself asking her questions. How is she doing? Is she fine? The usual questions a girl friend would ask her pregnant friend. But we’re not friends. We just got acquainted that day. I even had the sarcasm to say that I can be a godmother to her child if she wants. I am such a bitch, even if I’m hurting.

The girl is trying very hard to have a normal conversation with me, but to no avail. She stutters and is make funny gestures all that time. She had that guilty, afraid and pleading eye as if saying:

“Please don’t do anything bad to me. Please don’t be angry, please? Please? Please….”

I can only pity her.

All the while Robert is just a speechless, shocked creature watching us as we exchanged words. For the longest time that I’ve known him, I’m sure he’s in a state of near – collapse. Good thing the girl still has the decency and excused herself, so that Robert and I could talk. She muttered something about her stomach suddenly feeling funny and achy and she needs to use the toilet. In my head I’m saying that:

“Good for you. Must have been all those guilt feelings trapped inside finally coming out of your body. In the funniest and most awkward places!”

Finally, Robert and I were alone. He’s already crying. He reached for my hand but I won’t accept it. He tried to go near me but I’m shooing him away. I just told him in my angriest, most detached tone to say his piece for the last time. I did not want to waste my time any further – in the company of cheaters. After my hurtful words, he again tried to embrace me in spite of my resistance. This time he succeeded.

But my detached and cold-as-stone demeanor was not to waiver any moment. I tried to push him but he’s forcing himself to me. I just stood there like a statue, incapable of humane emotions. Robert is all over me. He’s crying loudly and is kissing me and saying how sorry he was. That he did not expect a one – time lapse of his fidelity would result to something that he will regret forever. I just looked away, which made him cry even more.

Deep inside, I am really hurting seeing him in this state. I wanted to console him, to hug and embrace him, to assure him that everything’s gonna be alright – like I usually do. But I had to do this. For myself, for him and most especially for someone who doesn’t have anything to do with all this. There’s an innocent soul already involved whether he/she likes it or not – his would be firstborn.

Thinking about the child, brought me back to reality and my senses. I was suddenly aware of Robert’s arm around me and I can actually his howls of forgiveness. I would have been touched and melted by his show of emotions had this did not happen, and Robert is still the same Robert that I knew.

I thought I knew him, but that moment, I barely do. It was like looking at a familiar face of a total stranger. How could he do this to me? How could he? Why? Why him? Why me? I was with an entirely different person.

I told him it’s over, that no amount of explanation can change my mind. I already made my decision. And that is to end our relationship. All of these, I’m doing for his child. I wouldn’t want to see another disgraced lovechild to be born in this world. - Just because his father had his momentary minutes of self – satisfaction without thinking of its consequences.

“I’m doing this for your child, Robert. Even if it will cost me my happiness.” I had set him free.

to be continued...

It’s one of those days when you go out of the world feeling like you’re half – naked. No, I did not go out still in my pajamas or my fly open, not as scary as that.

I had a hard time going through this day. Of all days that it has to happen, it did today.

I barely made it this morning and was as unsuccessful at lunch time. I had had to ask favors from total strangers so that I could get by. It’s not really that big of a deal asking help from others [or my friends] but it would have been a lot easier if I had my own.

I resolved to just go home after lunch but I had an important task to accomplish, so I had to stay in the office and survive this fateful day without it.

I was silently cursing myself how I could have forgotten something so important and necessary. I may forget my house keys, ID, watch, cellphone or my hanky but I can still manage. I sometimes overlook these things especially when I’m in a hurry, but I always see to it that I have this one thing in my pocket. I usually have it with me everywhere I go so I did not bother to do a rain check before heading for work. Today, never had I felt so useless and helpless without this accessory.

I just realized it when I was just a few meters away from the office. I was incessantly looking if I just misplaced it in one of my pant’s pockets. But nothing’s there. I was just about to have my first puff for the day when I realized that – I forgot my lighter!

The Other Woman

The most painful thing that could happen to anyone would probably be breaking up with the one you love.

One afternoon, I received an SMS from a dear friend, Dannie, who just broke up with her boyfriend for three years, Robert. Though I have met him only once, I can honestly say that Robert loves my friend, probably loves my friend more than my friend’s love for him. I was really saddened by the news and was dispirited the rest of the day.

What could’ve gone wrong? Why did something so good, so great has to come to this? They were the perfect couple and the idea of them breaking up is just unthinkable. I don’t want to believe what I just heard. And a friend’s instinct tells me that my friend needs someone to talk to, so I invited her for a date. She could be hurting and I can help her by just being a friend. She agreed to meet with me. So goes her story:

“Ours is a long – distance relationship. Robert is based in Baguio and I’m here in Manila pursuing a nursing degree. We see each other once or twice a month and constantly check up on each other thru texts and phone calls. Everything is going fine. The relationship is smooth sailing more than can I ask for. So I thought…

I started receiving hate business cards. I just shrugged these off coz I don’t have enemies that I know of. Besides, I seldom get into fights or any arguments for that matter. It’s just not me. Then, there were some text messages from an unknown sender. I initially thought that some guy’s just fooling around with me. Not long afterwards did this ‘mystery texter’ claimed that she’s Robert’s other woman and that they’re already living together.

I wasted no time calling this ‘other woman’, and just to make sure that no one is just pulling some bad jokes on me. She’s saying some things to prove that she’s telling the truth and for me to let go of Robert for her benefit. She also confessed that Robert knows nothing of her attempts at communicating with me. She was specifically instructed by my boyfriend not to involve me one way or another to their affair. It’s Robert’s problem and she has a hands – off policy towards me. She made me promised me not to say anything to Robert.

I was nauseated after that call. I can hardly breathe. I was gasping for air as if holding on for dear life. I found myself leaning against the wall for support. I felt numb and don’t know what to think – and what to do.

I wanted to confront Robert right then and there, but I was afraid hearing the truth from him. What if she’s telling the truth? What if Robert’s been laughing and fooling around behind my back all this time? I don’t wanna find out. Not yet. Not now.

I spent sleepless nights thinking these things over. The ghost of that phone call kept haunting me 24/7. Thoughts of them together are like venom consuming my very existence. Is she prettier than me? Am I not as good as she is in bed? Did she have the things Robert wanted me to have but I don’t. Thousands of questions but with no definite answers.

I had to do something before I lost my dwindling sanity. I have to confront with the truth sooner or late, might as well do it now.

I paid him a surprise visit. I had to travel all the way to Baguio just to see for myself.

What I saw and found out will haunt me for the rest of my life. Every thing the girl’s been telling me is true. But I’m in for something more. Something more than I could absorb and believe. She’s seven months pregnant!”

to be continued...

"Well life has a funny way of sneaking up on youWhen you think everything's okay and everything's going rightAnd life has a funny way of helping you out whenYou think everything's gone wrong and everything blows upIn your face"

-from Alanis Morissette's Ironic

It seems like life never ceases to amaze me, with its irony.

After my last post about being depressed for not having a boyfriend, I met this guy. Though I cannot count is as serendipitous, it’s just so funny that hours after I posted that blog, there he came – out of nowhere. I don’t wanna think that I looked really lonely and wasted and obviously in dire need of a boyfriend when I met him. Am really not that desperate, am I?

I thought it would turn out to just another one night stand, though I can certainly use one at that time. But circumstances had other plans; we decided to meet the day after.

I waited for him for at least 30 minutes and had surmised that he would not show up. He arrived exactly 45 minutes after I arrived and was apologetic. More than twice he said how sorry he is that I had to wait for him that long, I just told him that he better deserved the wait and he should make up for the my minutes wasted. In my mind, I’m already fabricating ways to let him pay.

He did pay, for the food, fare and my cigarettes.

And he really made up for being late.

We got laid.

And was he good?

He dropped me home and called me after 15 minutes, saying he had a great time and would like to see me again.

I said sure, if I have the time.

I can’t tell him straight, though there’s really no need for it. That it would be – the first and the last.

For the last 25 years of my existence, I have yet to have a boyfriend – a serious one, that is. One that I can really call my own - and only mine.

Yes. I’m infinitely single since time immemorial, though I had my fair share of flings and encounters. Some of them ended up as my friends but most remained only as flings, nothing more.

Its not that I’m on a life and death pursuit for a boyfriend/lover/significant other or anything, it just that...

Ok, I admit it. I hate being single – right now.

Probably it’s the feeling of being left behind by almost everybody – who are either in a serious relationship or otherwise. Everywhere I look, there's a couple gazing lovingly into each other’s eyes - oblivious of the world around. Especially to us poor, single and unattached souls. I can’t even wander around without feeling envious of the love around me.

I once asked a [gay] friend what he thinks is wrong with me. Why I haven’t got a guy for the longest time.

He said that if I really wanted one, I could have one. It all depends on me.

Easier said than done…

As I seriously think about it, I do want to have one. But it’s the commitment and getting hurt because of love that I’m afraid of. I know of some who had been together for seems like eternity, but they ended up alone and hurt by cupid’s arrow. I’ve been hurt before by love, though I can't exactly say that it’s because of a legit love gone wrong coz I was the third party. He’s not really mine to begin with.

I don’t wanna buy that “Love will come to you when you least expect it.” crap anymore. I try to be as indifferent as I can whether there’s really someone meant for me or not. If there is, fine. If not, I couldn’t care less.

Am I depressed? Maybe I am.

I just hope that I’m going thru this phase, again.

Once in a while I get this insecurity, apathy and anxiety attack, followed by excessive wallowing because of my current status. I drink, party till I drop, and flirt like there’s no tomorrow to somehow fill the void and emptiness. After which something, someone interests me and then I’m normal again. Normally, the single and [somehow] contented me.

But right now, life sucks - and me.

As I was tinkering with my new mobile, I had this sudden urge to check whether all the numbers are still active and are not unattended or ‘cannot be reached’. Why not clean up my contacts’ list to have a fresh start, to go with my new phone. I certainly have loads of anonymous numbers with names like “hu?”, “?” and numbers with guy names which I can’t recall what they look like, where we've met, whether something happened between us and how they ended up in my contacts’ list.

When I’m almost done, deleted like 25% [fictitious/anonymous/hideous] numbers of my contacts, I came across this number. HIS number. I was like looking transfixed at it, memorizing the 11-digit combination in my head [though, I knew his number by heart] before hitting that delete button.

Whom I was kidding? All those years I kept his number and never had I deleted it, hoping against hope that he will call or text. After we've kinda kissed-and-made up this year, we resume our communication.

But I'm currently detaching myself from him right now, and to any guy for that matter. And it’s such a relief that he’s not calling or texting me lately. After I got my line, there’s no way that he can contact me, unless I make the first move and update him.

But I just did, made the initiative. Instead of pressing on the delete button, I scrolled up and pressed the call button. Big mistake!

He’s number is still active. I immediately disconnected my call, but seconds later he’s the one calling me, really calling, not that drop call kind of ring; or just dialing my number for a missed call. I don’t know if I should answer his call or not.

I rejected his call and turned my unit off.

Coward Me!

[I'm Not] Coming Out!

Saturday night, I received an SMS from my former officemate, Claire, saying that I switch to channel 12 about a show about gays.

Actually, she need not remind me to watch the show, “Out!” by GMA 7. Not that I’m marking my calendars and is dying to watch it. I’ve heard much of the show from my best friend Cecille, who had been telling me about the show’s plugs and teasers. I rarely watch TV nowadays so I’m really clueless what’s the fuss is all about. I really did not intend to watch, but curiosity got the better of me and I guess I have nothing to lose if I watch it. I’ve heard so much about the show even if the pilot episode won’t be aired that day; hence I really have high expectations… and reservations.

It’s not hard to figure out what the show will be all about. The title itself had always been referred to those gays hiding in their closeted world. The first segment had one of the gay male host waiting at a restaurant for his girl college friend, not on a date but for his ‘coming out’ moment. Shortly after his friend arrived and they’re in the middle of the course, he told his friend that he’s been gay all these years and he’s finally coming out. The second segment had this bisexual girl model/actress doing her ‘coming out’ moment inside a bar.

What caught my attention is the segment about a former Probe team reporter/journalist. An excerpt from his actual audition footage was shown. At the audition tape, he was asked when did he come out, he answered “Until now.” to which I must admit is very brave of him. However, the next part of his segment had him crying and pouring his heart out to a friend. Forgive me for saying this but he looks like a drama queen that time. I can’t blame him though if all these years he’s been hiding what he really is. I just can’t imagine 20-something years of suppressed emotions finally coming out in the open and setting one’s self free. I see he’s finally liberated, but all the cryings and weepings he did is very showbiz.

Next segment featured a marriage between gay and lesbian couples. Both pairs from both same sex relationships were featured. There’s also a segment about a fan/admirer of Filipino gay icons. This one had veteran thespian Celia Rodriguez surprising an ardent fan. The unknowing gay was made up to look like his idol and a pictorial was set. In the middle of the photo shoot, came Ms. Rodriguez, which accidentally was stepped on by her gay fan. I really find that booboo funny but when they started praising each other superlatives, I decided I had enough. I got the point, I need not watch any further.

One of my friends asked if I would do the same [coming out] and allow my story to be featured in the show, if given the chance.

I would… not! Even if I will be coming out, it would not be on national TV. I have always been open about who I am. I’m not really hiding anything, so there’s no need for me to come out. Though I haven’t gone far to wearing girly clothes and getting those silicon and hormone shots just to have the physical attributes of the fairer sex, I think I’m doing fine just by being me.

Though I don’t go running around like a screaming faggot nor do I act all macho and very masculine, it’s not hard to tell that I am one. They say my actions and actuations give my preference away. I guess its true; I’ve always been like that.

When I’m asked if my family knows of this, I usually answer, “I don’t know.” My sexual preference is an open secret with regards to my family. It is quite obvious but we don’t talk about it. Or we try our best not to talk or avoid talking about it. I guess my family isn’t ready yet to hear the words “I am gay” coming from me. It’s not as though that they are forcing me to change ways or anything. I’m still waiting for that time when they will be asking me about this. I will come out to them, not for anyone, when they are ready. For now, it’s all just wait-and-see.

continuation...

It was an ordinary Monday morning; everybody’s quite busy [I thought] from the last week’s backlog. Minutes later my co-staffs in the department started laughing and seem to be genuinely amused at something. I was about to ask what’s going on when one of them asked me if I had been reading my emails. Thinking that its just another funny, forwarded one, I immediately refreshed my mailbox.

Subject: Marlon’s new picture

This is bad, I thought. And was I shocked to see what my new picture was? It’s not actually me, but a picture of a naked girl [tits exposed!] with my face instead of hers. The email was sent by one of the staffs to almost everybody, which seems to be very busy with work that he still got time to do this.

I tried hard not to cry but I was really fuming mad! I gather all the self-control I could muster. Talk about a way to start your week! For the spirit of [foul] fun, I replied all, “I hope it did not take you EIGHT OFFICE HOURS to finish this.” The message, I thought, is quite clear, that I did not find the whole stunt funny.

I don’t know if they cannot comprehend what I meant, or they’re just plain morons because the following day, same thing happened. Only this time, with Pam Anderson’s body [wearing her red Baywatch suit] but not her face but mine.

I immediately talked to my boss about this and complained what these primitives just did. I nearly cried again, but thankfully I managed to suppress those tears. The least I could do is to be a crybaby and look indignant to their eyes.

I was never the same since. I became more aloof and irritated at them. I loathed them. What’s worse is that I felt that they were not given the right amount of punishment I expected the company would do. I cannot even count as a verbal reprimand the way they have been told that they had offended someone by doing these things. They continued on but this time with the other staffs and themselves as the subjects. It is as if they’re making a statement that I lack self-humor and I’m just overreacting.

Amidst the humiliation and discrimination, I started thinking of ways to redeem myself. The first thing that I thought was revenge. Good thing a better resolve crossed my mind that is to persistently look for a better, more professional, decent company. I had enough.

My persistence paid of. A better company offered me a job in two week’s time. I can’t wait to transfer that I agreed to report one week after the interview. The 30-day turn over period of my [soon to be ex] company became the least of my priority. I agreed to their compromise, to report once a week or after office hours to turn over and train my replacement. After all, that's the least I could do and I'm still 'professional', even though they don't deserve such. I’m really in for something bigger and better – professionally and financially.

Before the effectivity of my resignation, I had a chance to talk to the CEO. He asked me what made me quit and move in to another company. I told him that I felt that I don’t belong in the company. When he asked me why, the moment of truth had come. That’s the cue I’m waiting. I narrated to him the incidents that transpired over the month before my resignation. After which, I told him that:

“Never in my life had I felt that humiliated and discriminated. I’m proud of who and what I am. I know that I’m gay but I’m really proud of it, though sometimes I’m not very vocal about it. What’s worse is that only these people, THESE PEOPLE, has the audacity to do such things to me. when come to think of it, they’re not even a fart’s worth compared to what I know and what I had accomplished. We are both CPAs, I know you know what I feel.”

He was quite taken aback by my outpour. I know I sounded arrogant and full of myself that moment. So what? I am resigned though not technically. And besides, I’m just honestly saying what I feel. My real intention talking to him is just to let him know of these incidents. I already served my purpose. I’ve said my piece and I’m vindicated.

To you my former officemates, if you chanced upon reading this, I have a message for all of you.

To the few friends I left behind: Thanks for sticking with me all throughout, I did not intended you to be my wastebaskets during those hurtful times. Your listening ears have always been my comfort zone, and for that I’m forever grateful.

To all those who had made my life harder than it should: For all its worth, I have already forgiven you, but certainly, I won’t forget what you did either. Thanks for helping me see the overreacting, sensitive, arrogant, know-it-all Marlon. But more importantly, I thank you for making realize that there are still [too bad!] those who are WORSE than me.

It’s one of those crazy things I want to do before I die.

Upon learning that it would not take much of an effort to make it happen, I was quite ecstatic of the possibility. At first, I thought that I would have to go the extra mile, literally and figuratively, but I just found out that there’s a more convenient and accessible place here in Ortigas.

I could not suppress my agitation. I immediately checked out the forbidden place, tagging my friend along.

How I just wish I had done this thing when I was younger, so that it would save me the agony of being accused of acting younger than my age. Kids do all the crazy stuff, and are glorified for their adventurism. But for a stereotypical, necktie-and-long sleeves-wearing yuppie, such is just plain craziness.

But I fashion myself a non-conformist with respect to being a ‘professional’. I had always been against strict protocol and standards. Its just only now that I subjected myself to some restrictions but nevertheless, the rebel inside manifests every now and then.

I told myself, this is the chance to prove myself that I can also do crazy [unexpected] stuff aside from being the subservient rebel that I currently am. No one will find out, unless I, myself, will do the talking.

With butterflies in my stomach, me and my friend slowly approached that crowded place. There are so many things going on inside my head. I am sure I can hear these reactions once I pulled this through:

“Wow, you just did that?”

“I don’t know you’re capable of this.”

“You really surprised me.”

Everything is within my grasp, all I have to do is ask. But at the last minute, I chickened out.