Imman

Hi,

It's been a little bit over nine years since I created this journal. It contains the thoughts, literature, and random musings I've taken the time to write down over the years, as well as the exchanges I have made with people who at one point or the other touched my life.

It is with a bit of sentimentality and a slight sadness that I inform you that I have decided to move elsewhere on the web, as I feel that the pages here no longer accurately reflect the presentation of things I want to write about in the future. I will not delete this journal but it will remain inactive indefinitely. I have started many new chapters in my life, and if for some reason you still wish to continue to follow my journey, I maintain my cyber presence on Flickr, Wordpress and on Tumblr using the links below.


Flickr: http://www.flickr.com/pyronix
FB: http://www.facebook.com/pyronix.imn

Thank you for keeping me company throughout the past 9 years.


Imman :)

http://mynameisimman.wordpress.com/2010/12/09/an-open-letter-from-a-sociopath/

There was a time when the words flew right out of my fingers and my mind knew exactly what I felt. There were no confusion, no complications, no hesitation, only the clarity of thought and the purposefulness of will.

That time has long gone. These days, though nothing has changed and I continue to walk the desolate road of life alone, I am riddled with doubt, plagued with emotions so mixed they have compacted into a homogenous mass of both nothing and everything at once – anger, hate, regret, apathy – until there are no more edges between them and I. Where there were words, now there is only faltering and indecision. What clarity there was has turned to visions of nothing but mud – viscous, opaque, unyielding, relentless.

I ask myself many times when this will end, this hopelessness, indirection, this despair; this pervading sense of being so pale and insignificant in a world so vast and vibrant. And yet I can only look, I can only observe, never to touch, nor be, nor participate. I struggle with the purpose of my existence, with the very reason for breathing, for catalyzing oxygen to burn energy, for the very mechanism by which my heart beats in my chest, for being granted sensory perception when there is nothing to feel but this aching void.

There are times when I imagine screaming in the faces of strangers to affirm my existence, to make sure that I have not already turned immaterial, that my hand can still hold metal and stone; that my tongue still taste the bitterness and rust of blood; that people still know I occupy space, even if that is the last single thing I can do.

And then there is despair that begs the rain to wash me away. I want to believe that some day it will all be okay, that I will find my purpose, that this is all part of a greater plan, that I should be a thread in the beautiful tapestry of life, but that is the light I cannot see at the end of the tunnel.

Only sadness behind me. Only loneliness around me.

I see only the darkness in front of me.



I keep dreaming of freedom… of air rushing across my face, of the knowledge that nothing else will ever matter, that my pain will end soon, of that sweet release from the bitter grip of life.

our dog, sheeba, died last night.


the maid told me this morning as i came out of my room.

she had been sick for almost a month now. her breathing had become ragged, and she was having difficulty eating. we thought she'd recover after my mom bought her to the vet hospital in UP a week ago since she responded well to the medicine that they prescribed. her breathing became less ragged, she started eating again, and she regained some of the energy she had lost over the past few weeks.



the maid told me that she just waited for my dad to come home, before lying in her usual spot in our living room, and quietly passing away.



we had expected something like this would happen - we hoped it wouldn't happen so soon, but she had grown very weak. what i didn't expect, however, was how badly i would be taking this loss.



sheeba was the best dog anyone could ever have. she loved people, and couldn't get enough of them. she was ecstatic whenever there were people around, regardless if they were strangers or people she already knew. whenever we would arrive home, she would start barking excitedly at the door, and would keep trailing our heels until we picked her up and gave her a hug or patted her on the head.

for eight years, she gave me and my family so much joy. even during the days i couldn't stand being in the same room fore more than five minutes with anybody else in this house (which basically describes almost every day), she gave me a reason to tarry and stay longer in the living room just so we can play. she loved being chased and chasing people in turn.

sheeba was the most affectionate dog i have ever met. she would nuzzle up to people and lick their nose. when she looked up at you, you absolutely know that she adores you because she gets that little dog smile and starts waving her tail. she loved being hug, and she liked crawling up and lying snugly beside you if you lie down next to her.



i've never lost anyone significant in my life to death. this is the first time something i love has passed away. the cliche that you never really appreciate what you have until you lose it has never been truer than at this moment. all of us knew at the back of our heads that sheeba's time was coming up, but knowing something, and it actually happening are two vastly different things. the void that's left is just unbelievably sad because there is no hope, no way we can have her back.



sheeba was very much loved, and we knew how much she loved us back. everyone in the house is pretending to go on as if nothing has happened, but the mood of the house has changed without her pattering around in the living room.



sheeba gave all of us her unquestioning love and loyalty, and i'm going to miss her. she was the silent witness to everything that happened in our family over the past decade, and she loved us regardless of everything. my closest friends got to meet her at one point or another, and so did the other people who came in and out of our family's lives over the years.

ironically enough, the vet at the UP vet hospital diagnosed her with an enlarged heart. when i saw her the last time yesterday before i left for work, she was already very weak, but she was as affectionate as ever. she followed me to our gate and looked up at me expectantly for her good bye pat on the head.



my mom buried sheeba this morning in UP.



good bye, sheeba, and thank you for your life, your love, and your companionship. :)





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my only pictures of sheeba taken oct 2007:

valentine's day is coming up.

so where do i begin?

i have often asked myself why, out of the billions of people in the world, i am one of those rare few who have yet to experience what it is like to spend this day with someone special. all i wanted was the candlelit dinner and strings softly playing in the background routine -

and that has never happened. i cannot remember a single valentine's that i haven't been sad, depressed, jealous, suicidal, lonely, or angry...



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Current Mood: happy

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so close. so very very close. :|

geocities (the free web hosting company bought by yahoo more than 8 years ago) has finally closed. they have been sending me notifications for the past two months about it and the deadline was oct 26.

and of course, as expected, i only remembered to do it today - oct 27.

they didn't provide a tool or a way to download everything at once so i had to manually right-click and do "save as..." to my desktop. i was happily chugging along saving each of my more than 200 files. i knew they wouldn't really close down the site on oct 26 and i wasn't really rushing. i mean, how could they? geocities hosted gigabytes of homepages made by people. even before it became a yahoo company, geocities already had a community (actually, i think geocities started to decline in popularity when it was sold to yahoo).

anyway, i was about 15 files away from saving everything when the website just literally stopped working. i forgot that yahoo was foremostly and american company and americans do things on time.

thankfully, the only things i were not able to save were a few pictures of a class field trip during first year college which i ddn't attend in the first place, a second-year high school class picture, and a very outdated resume.

i realized that so many things could have gone wrong today - if i had woken up only 15 minutes later, if i had procrastinated yet again or totally forgotten about the whole thing altogether, if i had gone down and looked for something to eat before sitting down in front of the computer - but i didn't.

when i woke up at 1pm today, i was immediately bored so i opened my desktop, saw the date and said to myself, "hmm... geocities closed yesterday. i wonder if i can still get my files."

if i had not done that, i would have lost the only copies of pictures and stuff that i have written prior to 2002.

sorry this is a boring story. i'm just glad i got to save things i didn't really realize was that important until i almost very nearly lost it :)

7:30pm / Oct 15, 2009

minsan natatawa/namamangha ako sa agwat ng realities ng buhay that i encounter on a daily basis. pag gising ko sa umaga, madaliang ligo at preparasyon para sa trabaho, kasabay ko ang daan daang taong nagmamadali papunta sa makati. mga office girls, executives, naka jeans, naka sando, naka stockings, naka polo barong... mga messenger, mga call center people, mga trabahador sa construction, mga yuppies at mga oldies (sorry, wala akong kasabay na executive kasi nagji jeep lang ako).

tulad na lang ngayong araw - one of the many other insignificant days of working life - day two ng ITIL training namin. para sa mga hindi nakaka-alam kung ano ang ITIL, i'll explain it in the most simplistic, albeit crude way possible - ITIL is a set of guidelines for the IT and services sector on how said IT and services industries can make more money for the businesses/clients that they support. yun lang talaga ang bottom line. kesyo kung anu ano pang terms at concepts ang minudmod nila sa mga pagmumukha namin today hanggang nag nosebleed ako sa information overload - mga service management, capacity management, change advisories, process ganito, function ganyan, eklat eklat - na hindi mo naman magagamit sa langit (or sa impyerno) pag patay ka na - ang driving mechanism lang naman ng lahat ng ito is just one simple thing - making more money.

so eto yung mga bagay na pinagmumuni-munihan (may ganun?!) nung nasa jeep ako pauwi hanggang sa umabot ako sa street kung nasaan ang bahay namin.

pag abot ko sa gate, may dalawang bata who couldn't have been more than 7 years old na nasa labas, knocking softly on our gate. usually pag dinner time, lahat ng tao sa bahay namin ay nasa second floor or nasa third floor dahil either a) nanonood ng tv, b) naglalaro ng computer or c) nag-e-exercise (pero yung tatay ko lang yun, hindi ako). in short, i wouldn't have any idea how long these two kids have been knocking on our gate since apparently walang nakakarinig sa kanila.

meron akong sariling susi so pag bukas ko ng gate namin nilapitan ako ng dalawang bata at sabi nung isa, "kuya, may ipapatapon ba kayo?"

syempre naman, i had utterly no idea what he was talking about. i'm one of those people na if there's something that does not interest or concern me directly, hindi ko na inuusisa or pinapakialaman. sayang sa brain cells eh. so hindi ko talaga maintindihan yung tanong nya. ipapatapon na ano? bagay? basura? tao? (oh yes, baka nga naman mga ahente sila ng isang recruitment agency at pwede kong ipatapon ang sarili ko sa ireland... sushalan! or worse, part pala sila ng isang assassination/guns for hire na gang at kaya nilang magpatapon ng tao sa kung saan mang remote kangkungan - at part talaga yan ng thought process ko while i was trying to decipher what in the world this kid meant).

tamang-tama bumaba yung mom ko dahil narinig pala nyang binuksan ko yung gate. dumiretso nako papasok sa loob ng bahay at yung mom ko yung nakipagusap dun sa mga kids.

after a few minutes, nung pumasok na ulit yung mom ko, tinanong ko what the kids wanted. yun pala, nagtatanong sila kung may mga bagay bang pwede nilang itapon - for a small unspecified fee na bahala na yung mom ko yung mag decide kung magkano ang gusto nya ibayad sa mga batang yon.

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My dearest Tallas:

It's a warm night here where I am, and the streets are quiet. Supper has just ended. I am alone, sitting on the roof of the house I live in, looking at the stars, listening to a classical piano piece being played on one of their devices. They call it music. It is wonderful, and brilliant, and a million other things I you would have loved to experience.

A storm has just passed, and it has left a clear sky in it's wake. I wish you were here to look up at the stars with me, to share this music with you, and hold your hand, and dream of distant places, like we used to.

I wish I could have written to tell you what an amazing place this is, so different from home, yet so similar in many ways. I write tonight, however, to tell you how homesick I am. You have no idea how eager I am for the day to come when I can return, to feel your presence around me again, your smell, your touch, your smile. I miss your warmth when I wake in the morning, and the look you give me when I'm about to fall asleep at night. I often look at the sky and wonder if there's one of us out there, and even though I'm fairly sure there isn't, I still hope that it will be you, come from halfway across the galaxy to find and bring me back.

I am very, very far away. They will not have told you where they have sent me, but suffice to say that I am safe, and in the most minimal sense, I am cared for. Do not worry for me, for I am with good people, and I have made some friends here. I know, you are probably chuckling with disbelief, but it's true. Time has passed, and I fear that I may have changed, if for better or worse, that will be up to you to decide when we see each other again. I do hope you will some day forgive me for what I have done.

Tallas, I can't tell you how much every day, I wake up and the memory of your face is the only source of my strength. This was something I thought I was prepared for, but I had realized too late, and I regret my decision to leave you. Every day is the same monotony, the same drudgery of blending in, pretending to be like them, a single grain of sand in an infinite shore when I am neither earth, nor glass. The Council was wrong. We can never be one of them. I can never be one of them.

I am tired, so tired. I do not know how much more data the Council requires. I keep requesting to be relieved, to send someone else in my place to continue my work, but for some reason they have chosen to keep me here.

All I have are these words, and a promise that someday, I will find myself a way to get off this planet, and return home to you. Until then, please keep the gates open for me.

I may be a hundred thousand light years away, but that will not stop me. They have a saying here - home is where the heart is.

I will come home. I promise.

"i can never imagine my life without you."


these were the words that you uttered on the last day. i had long been cast out of your heart, even though you still ruled mine. yet, in this rarest of moments you cried, and i - in my naivete - so desperate to believe that it had meant something, clung to those words - that even in the waning dusk of the most glorious days of my life, it mattered. i mattered.

apparently not.




how quickly you forget. that now the earth where we both stand on should seem to revolve in opposite directions, that now the light of day that blinded my eyes to your flaws is not the same light you forever run away from, that now we should see different stars in the same sky, different constellations, different divinations, and ultimately, different destinies, when once we had dreamed of travelling the path together.

it was always i who have reached out across the vast awkwardness of this precarious pseudo-friendship we had forged. i had done so, because even if i don't love you anymore in the way you were used to, i still love you. fiercely. protectively, even if only in the silence of my thoughts.

and still, when the storm had passed and i found myself existing in the numbing serenity of the aftermath, i had thought that these eight words which had meant more to me than anything else in the litany of saccharine whispers you filled my head with was true.

i could not have been more wrong.




i have grown weary of waiting for you to take the initiative. for you to prove to me that you meant the words that you said. i have said enough farewells. i, the most selfish person i know, have given you my all. this will be the last.