Over my Head

Everyone knows that I'm over my head, over my head...as the song goes.

I simply hope what I say and do do not in the end nullify the very best of my efforts.

And I would certainly hope some people in Batang-Batang land (making this up, it there such a place?) get the point I am driving at. Point being, I hope those who have utmost suspicion about my actions from my defendable decisions just get a hang of themselves.

Whilst I have a prick in my eye, they have a logjam in theirs---that I address to 3 really irritating people to my life. (not necessarily campus life) Can't believe you're still the same bunch from the blog entry I had some timg ago.

Beware the intrepid silence that is used by the battered weak and contemplative for it is the strongest of weapons in any one's arsenal. How many times have I preached about this?

For some time now, I have been haunted by personalities of both good and bad sorts to my subjective bias. I have decided to quell the inner battles of both in my heart and have been rather successful in doing so. Hence, the farther that I fly, the farther the thought falls, and the better landing I get. This is all figurative. It is the best encryption I have for now.

My stern warning to those who discount the power of silent voices that carry a sense of purpose, vision, and means of getting there: beware the rising of the right wing. I have nothing else more to say.

Friends in the Council and around it ask me how should my idea of the right wing become what I think it can be? I give a smile and invite them to a discourse. I get input from them and they agree with me on some points. What I have to say for this blog and the discussion on the better of my grand scheming, the right wing will be a brand that is in touch with individualism---that of human nature and yet will be the masterpiece of power and benevolent leadership put together.

Life has been busy as always. Get a call from you boss, have to make a mad dash to the meeting place to find yourself making a grand entrance. You exit after you pace yourself by warming a seat and taking a good look at the speaker as if paying attention but really pondering on why in the world you do such things. You think that at the end of the day you make your organization work better and its cause carried through. Perhaps. Tell that to a drunk man. He'll tell you perhaps.

But I am not drunk by the soothing alcohol that burns my worn out cords. I am drunk with a lasting and potent longing of some things beyond my incestuous scheming about the future of this world and the end of all madness.

Ground zero. 9/11? I bring a new definition to the idea.

In the university, nothing much changes. The landscape is brimmed fire of power play and disappointing immaturity brought about by insolence of the so-called monopolizers of the discourse. The land is toughened by poker faces with razor sharp corners that cut your cheek when they kiss you in front and stab you at the back. My joy comes from the knowledge that such fools have not a clue on what they are thinking of and that to my mind, their time is coming near. Thank the heavens friends from past and traitors in the present as of last count number to three. Two of which I accuse with a blind eye. But can I help it that they're being obvious?

So I get a cab and get a rather cool ride home. To my expectations, two-thirds of the taxi drivers I converse turn out to be actual and good conversation pieces. But I guess no one makes a better man to have a chat with than Mr. Cruz. Though much emotion has carried him over the past weeks, I am most thankful that he still is very much aware of things happening around him and people that need his cheer.

So I end up encoding some documents: proposals for CWTS, some for UN, some for my volunteer org, hopping from CNN.com to UNICEF VOY fora, to my email, and yes the beloved Friendster. The music playing at the background? Itchyworms with Beer. Am in it for the beat, the melody...the blending...not really what it's talking about.

I have come to realize that I have to move on from the pains given by the past. However, I have to tell myself that I am not moving on but instead putting a stopper and waiting for some indefinite deadline more than anything. Why so? I tell people I am doing fine. But at the back of my head there is a warring of the clans namely, "Paolo someone can do a better job taking care of her than you and you know it darn well." and the other being "Paolo who knows if you wait on her to be ready, given you have so much of this strong feeling for her."

I am not so sure anymore. I should be shot instead.

For the record, have I given up entirely? I have no comment my dear readers. One thing is clear, that whether or not people from Batang-Batang land my fantasy island for my resonant past agree to what I have in me then I must rethink my stand and forget the chase. However, I have none of that response.

What restraint and repression I do to myself I do out of respect for certain people. Anything more than that I make clear in private SMS messages.

So a pop-up interferes with my staring out the window. So I sigh and straighten my back.

Where was I? The grand rising of the benevolent right? Yeah. I was cut off by such evil thoughts.

I am the deep dark man to some people. My outer confusion to them is confusion indeed. HOWEVER, need I mention the silent contemplative is master over encryptive devices? So manifestation in the external being something that is produced from an inner drive does not entirely apply to such crop of beings.

So if by theory of projection and perception, I have made many believe that I am an eccentric weird and confused member of the Council who is unsure where he stands. I humbly smile and offer a prayer.

I simply hope your confusion in the entry does not nullify your trust in artistry.

I have been honest and yet cautious for most part of my dealings. To times I need to conceal, as with most of us in telling white lies I find my flaw. Lying is wrong however way you look at it. Then, it is an art.