Normal
0

false
false
false

EN-US
X-NONE
X-NONE

/* Style Definitions */
table.MsoNormalTable
{mso-style-name:”Table Normal”;
mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;
mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;
mso-style-noshow:yes;
mso-style-priority:99;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-parent:””;
mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt;
mso-para-margin-top:0in;
mso-para-margin-right:0in;
mso-para-margin-bottom:10.0pt;
mso-para-margin-left:0in;
line-height:115%;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:11.0pt;
font-family:”Calibri”,”sans-serif”;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:”Times New Roman”;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;}

I have been so immersed in this DBP thing that I think I’ve already forgotten how to write. That would have to be the death of an era. Ever since I can remember, I have been writing. Senseless stories about my neighbors, playmates, bubbles and even the most horrendous pile of laundry ever imaginable – I’ve made every bit my muse. Yet here I am, somewhat lost in what seems to be the alley of forgotten dreams. I do not mean to sound so dramatic, but losing enthusiasm for something that you are so passionate about – well, don’t you think that’s worth the drama?

I got to hang out with Marj over the weekend and I am again reminded of how good I am when it comes to pens and papers. I accompanied her to a designer’s house to pick up some clothes for an upcoming shoot, and went back to their office to log it in the stockroom. She said, the shoot is on Monday and that the photos will be published in the February issue. I missed talking this way, having a particular faculty of speech that need not be confused with math or numbers. Simply put, I miss being part of the first thing I signed up for: the arts.

Marj told me they have about three openings for writers in their magazine. I can’t help but feel excited. Somehow, it felt like I had a fall back plan with this DBP thing, should it not work out well for me. But I can’t think that way; I can’t think that I am not going to make it in this program. This company has a lot to offer me, and I know my future family can definitely benefit from this. Excellent healthcare, outstanding benefits, and constant reinforcement – DBP managed to keep its employees happy. Now that they’re relaunching the bank in a more commercial approach, I can’t help but feel excited to be part of such a big change.

Then I start to wonder; if I do this and I pass and I get to provide for my family in every single way possible, will I still have the time to do what I want? I know that being here is a necessity; I can definitely see myself with a better future here, without a single ounce of doubt. I know that being here, I am starting to build a strong backbone for my future family, and that there can come a time when we don’t have to worry about expenses and bills. I also know that being here delays my desires. When will I write again? Will I ever be published again? Will I ever touch people’s lives with the written word? Will I ever edit a book or do a mark up for next month’s issue? Will I ever meet my hero F. Sionil Jose and tell him how much his writings affected my own expressions? After doing everything that is needed, will I ever have again the time to do the things I wanted?

I am afraid of growing old and forgetting what it’s like to be able to give a person the most compelling drivel of his life. I am afraid of forgetting how to make a person feel like a million dollars. I am afraid of so many things, but mainly, of not being able to say the words that can make a difference. How romantic can I get huh?

In the long run, I still have the dream of being 60 and always invited to social gatherings as a guest speaker. I still dream of having my own gallery of mixed media artwork and poetry reading sessions at night. I still dream of teaching young minds how to “suck the marrow of life without choking on the bone”. I still dream of those things. I hope they don’t stay as just dreams.

Normal
0

false
false
false

EN-US
X-NONE
X-NONE

/* Style Definitions */
table.MsoNormalTable
{mso-style-name:”Table Normal”;
mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;
mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;
mso-style-noshow:yes;
mso-style-priority:99;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-parent:””;
mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt;
mso-para-margin-top:0in;
mso-para-margin-right:0in;
mso-para-margin-bottom:10.0pt;
mso-para-margin-left:0in;
line-height:115%;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:11.0pt;
font-family:”Calibri”,”sans-serif”;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:”Times New Roman”;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;}

I have been so immersed in this DBP thing that I think I’ve already forgotten how to write. That would have to be the death of an era. Ever since I can remember, I have been writing. Senseless stories about my neighbors, playmates, bubbles and even the most horrendous pile of laundry ever imaginable – I’ve made every bit my muse. Yet here I am, somewhat lost in what seems to be the alley of forgotten dreams. I do not mean to sound so dramatic, but losing enthusiasm for something that you are so passionate about – well, don’t you think that’s worth the drama?

I got to hang out with Marj over the weekend and I am again reminded of how good I am when it comes to pens and papers. I accompanied her to a designer’s house to pick up some clothes for an upcoming shoot, and went back to their office to log it in the stockroom. She said, the shoot is on Monday and that the photos will be published in the February issue. I missed talking this way, having a particular faculty of speech that need not be confused with math or numbers. Simply put, I miss being part of the first thing I signed up for: the arts.

Marj told me they have about three openings for writers in their magazine. I can’t help but feel excited. Somehow, it felt like I had a fall back plan with this DBP thing, should it not work out well for me. But I can’t think that way; I can’t think that I am not going to make it in this program. This company has a lot to offer me, and I know my future family can definitely benefit from this. Excellent healthcare, outstanding benefits, and constant reinforcement – DBP managed to keep its employees happy. Now that they’re relaunching the bank in a more commercial approach, I can’t help but feel excited to be part of such a big change.

Then I start to wonder; if I do this and I pass and I get to provide for my family in every single way possible, will I still have the time to do what I want? I know that being here is a necessity; I can definitely see myself with a better future here, without a single ounce of doubt. I know that being here, I am starting to build a strong backbone for my future family, and that there can come a time when we don’t have to worry about expenses and bills. I also know that being here delays my desires. When will I write again? Will I ever be published again? Will I ever touch people’s lives with the written word? Will I ever edit a book or do a mark up for next month’s issue? Will I ever meet my hero F. Sionil Jose and tell him how much his writings affected my own expressions? After doing everything that is needed, will I ever have again the time to do the things I wanted?

I am afraid of growing old and forgetting what it’s like to be able to give a person the most compelling drivel of his life. I am afraid of forgetting how to make a person feel like a million dollars. I am afraid of so many things, but mainly, of not being able to say the words that can make a difference. How romantic can I get huh?

In the long run, I still have the dream of being 60 and always invited to social gatherings as a guest speaker. I still dream of having my own gallery of mixed media artwork and poetry reading sessions at night. I still dream of teaching young minds how to “suck the marrow of life without choking on the bone”. I still dream of those things. I hope they don’t stay as just dreams.