Life, as I know it, has an extremely funny way of bringing me back to unfond memories: every now and then, I would just stumble recklessly over some situation that I can't seem to get myself out of, and end up visualising rainbow days and soft pelting of a passing shower.
Last year we thought it would be cool to support a students' awards showcase by putting in time and efforts in helping to put the show together. I personally thought it would be awesome to return some to society, and perhaps get a little publicity for the company.
It was cool, last year. They put up the show in a casual setting where people would come sit in an auditorium as they gave away fine recognition of our up and comings. But this year, it was just tough. We weren't told of the presentation format, and we just blindly let ourselves into a mass orgy of industry professionals and student-hopefuls with a sit-down buffet of sorts.
All the years since its inauguration, the company I used to work for was a strong supporter. But for these 2 years, we kinda took their place. And all it took was to run into my ex-boss in the most uncanny circumstance to totally throw me off my feet.
It's tough to mention, and even to begin why I would react so shakenly over the whole situation. Perhaps having no alcohol at the presentation was a bad thing: a few drinks might have made me completely oblivious to the environment, and just simply breeze through it as if I never was there.
I had nothing to be ashamed of, but I was trying to avoid the spotlight of being anything at all. Alas, how far-fetch that would be to even think about, considering I have so few trust-worthy friends by my side now.
We all think back and smack ourselves silly time and again over past actions and decisions. I certainly am not any stranger to that. Dealing with public relations is definitely one of my worst traits, not to mention PR in itself must have been my grade F subject. I hate to mingle: and I totally can't afford to play the game anymore - simply, because I am no longer in that capacity to tolerate pretenses and niceties for the sake of niceties.
I would dare say, there was no saving grace.
I hesitated to shake his hands, but I thought the least I could do was to say hi. After all, he may have taught me nothing in my professional field (that is, it is true, masters will always save one final stroke from his students to avoid being upsurged), but he has certainly taught me to stop being foolish.
Aah. Wise indeed.
It is times like these that make you think about your subsistence, overtaking the absence of reality while you are in it: there are no friends in work, only enemies. It is not how you get to be friends with your peers, but how to defend against them in the subtlest way.
That reality hit me doubly hard and triply fast. But, what can I do to action upon that learning? Stay clear of the game? Or simply just take it and swallow it like a bitter pill that paves the way to greater successes? You know, at the back of my head, I wanted to just send a little greeting over SMS: Hey, I know lots been said about me, but I hope it doesn't spoil the friendship. Was great to see you.
And that, would have been nice. But would therefore be perceived as feigning innocence and claiming credibility, which, I have none by now.
It of course, does not help when I have not the opportunity to tell my side of the coin while it's always been flipped onto the other.
Despite seeing a dear friend, I didn't have much of a heart to stay for long. I obligated the ceremony by presenting some awards, stayed for a while, and left shortly after before the whole show ended. It sucked because I could not be there to continue supporting those who need that extra push to get to where their potential would, just simply because of the demise of my own pride. It wasn't trying to yank a hole and hide kind of pride, there was just none.
What pride can a person have when the picture presented tells otherwise, and dignity does not even have an acknowledgment in the swing of things?
As I left clutching my wallet and phone through the main doors of the hotel ballroom, I felt like a real let-down for the many hopefuls who might have wished to speak to me for a shot, whatever that shot might be. Putting the cultural upbringing aside, which would have made it quite impossible for that to happen, perhaps there might be one that I can at least share my experiences with - if he or she is even willing to listen.
I know many whom I've been in touch with of late is in the loop on this blog, but I must say, I'm not losing confidence - I think I just want some peace. Too much dust has been kicked up and it's taking really long for it to settle, let alone clear up for a better view. In truth, there will never be a better view for we would never stay at the same spot when that happens, and the specks would have made anyone uncomfortable anyway.
I must have stepped outside for a cigarette thrice, just to avoid any undue attention that might fall on me. Good or bad, I'd really love to keep to myself. And strangely, I finally realised why I've never really stopped smoking. It isn't the thrill or the coolness. I mean, come on, who even thinks smoking and ending up with brown teeth and heavy breathing is cool? But I guess I still do it just to get my 5 minutes worth of silence and peace whenever a storm is kicked up. And sometimes, it is just to ponder why I am even alive to be humiliated (even by myself) in the first place?
There wasn't much motivation to blog tonight really, although the drive home just kept pressing images of the night's events through and through, over and over again in the head. I suppose that short bit of time spent looking at myself in the mirror the very first time I stepped into the gents at the hotel just made me do this.
As I looked at my own reflection, I remember asking: why are you here?
At that point, I had no idea. Just a unanimous answer of agreement. The longing for acceptance has long past. Time has only left enough to cover the daily human questions, barely, like what I should have for lunch or if I would like a glass of water since I'm feeling thirsty.
Whatever the case, I'm glad I scrapped myself out of that uncomfortable situation alive and well. Maybe not, since tongues may still wag. Then again, does it matter?
And of all people, that one girl whom I used to encourage and support throughout school, but eventually betrayed my integrity by blaming me for something I never did and putting me out of a prospective job, was sitting with us at the same table. I hesitated for a long time before I sat, and when I eventually braced myself to, she, could not rest eyes on me.
It could be that she still thinks I am at fault, or it could that she is afraid I might confront her. I could have, and I wanted to, but I did not. Too much drama in my life already, and I think it is more than enough.
Drama since childhood to teenage, to being a fresh graduate working, up till becoming a new start up company, I think I don't need more at this point. Happy endings would be fantastic, but to go through it, I'd like to have it wait out till I'm all settled in, strapped in my pilot's eject seat with a secure parachute, and I'll have it all.
One night, and I'm completely disoriented.
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Lars has always been a truthful and honest friend. We didn't know each other very long, but enough to sit and have a decent cuppa any time of the day, with enough topics to last and overflow.
I did briefly mention my exit plan after hearing how things were picking up for him: I'm the lazy dreamer, he's the hardworking realist. I respect him as an icon and a benchmark, and seeing him resets my wandering temperals every single time.
If there's someone to drink my last cup of coffee with, that's Lars. Of course, for my last cup of bubble tea...
Coming back, I briefly spoke of the exit plan, and his reactions were, funnily, gravely worried and concerned. I must admit, I'm not any less capable. Perhaps luck might have something to do with it. But I certainly lack that confidence to suck in the recognition and rice, although I would have won hands down (between us), the formulation of real-life. He's the ripe grape, and I'm the vine.
Nevermind how far apart our maturity in different areas of thoughts or how advance or backwards our behaviors towards certain events and circumstance are, we are, strangely, an exact reflection.
Mom was certainly right: I'm slow simply because I was born, by the hours, slow. And from then on, I will be slow. And therefore, I am slow. I may get, but it won't be up to speed.
Weird how births can determine the future, and how deaths can predict the past.
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