It's not working out

It’s not working out.

It has been half-a-year —work from home.

Many love it but for me it has proven to be tiresome and unproductive.

Some say Zoom meetings prove that we actually don’t need office spaces anymore.

But I’ve been on the average been spending at least 3hrs a day in Zoom and I feel that it is almost all that I’ve been doing.

I  join calls. In between I process the downloaded information that came from the conversations. In between that I take care of the household chores that has to be done since I’m taking care of my parents both elderly and both increasingly becoming dependent on my capacity to be mobile.

I can’t even begin to tell the whole gamut of anxiety that this lockdown has opened up. Not to mention the whole range of experiences that I’ve gone through in the past 6 months.

Generally I just feel tired. Physically. But in spite of that I often find myself having difficulty sleeping. And when I do finally start to fall into a deep sleep I am woken up by someone calling my name to ask me to do something for them. Or the loud volume of the television. Or the dogs barking. Or an item in my to-do list somehow finds itself in my dreams and I am jolted back into the living dead that is my life.

My life that sucks. My life made more miserable by this curveball of a pandemic and this hellhole of a country ran by thieves and murderers. 

It’s just not working out.

Our post-apocalyptic existence

 

The world as we know it already ended.

It did not came with the grinding halt of industry and the surge of Covid infections.

No those were just the more garish reminders that we are already living at the end of the line.

It came more subtly. It came when we became enamoured in the illussion that we can chart our individual destinies without looking at the bigger picture.

It came when we started looking at the earth as a machine, a resource that can be controled rather than as a nurturing mother that needs to be loved and respected.

It came when we looked on to visionary messiahs who will realize our visions of a prosperous world without getting our hands dirty in the work of building it.

There is no use in explaining away our sorrows. No sense in finding meaning in our misery. We can mourn. We can shed tears.  Let us do away with heroes, gods and saviors. Let us be content with the possibility that the pursuit of our dreams will forever be futile.

When the smoke settles, we can only hope that the swords have indeed been turned into plowshares.

We can only hope that a new dawn arises. A clean slate, a new beginning rises from the ashes of the former.

We can only hope that hope is finally realized and faith is now rendered obsolete.

We can only hope. We can only breathe. We can only open our eyes. One day at a time.

Microcosm

My home is a microcosm of the fucked up state of the world: His convenience at the expense and misery of everyone else.

Still no silver linings in sight

For months I've been staring at the abyss. Never in my life have I lost meaning in purpose. All symbols of certainty -- gone. Hope flailing. Life: a constant, protracted march to the grave. Still no silver linings in sight.

late night/early morning

Happiness is elusive.
The pain is bittersweet.
We love those who won't reciprocate.
At times we love in anger, anguish and pity.
Even the act of loving cannot be done on our own terms.
We can only sigh and walk it off.
Living in anxiety.
Thinking how long can we keep it up.

Frustration

That sad time when you want to stand up and fight for/against other/values/oppressors but personal tragedy gets in the way.

Realization

Am I too stubborn to take the hint?

Catch 22

Daily I see things that I shouldn't on normal occasions
I smell things that move my bowels
I wake up from a frantic sleep
I go out do my routine anticipating relief
Relief that is anathema
I find no solace in prayer for me to do so would mean to implore divine intervention for something unthinkable
I wallow in pain.
My life on an indefinite pause.
Bearing a cross that I can't unburden
I don't know what to believe anymore.

kalbaryo

Habang inaalala natin ang mga kalbaryong bitbit ni Kristo, alalahanin din natin na bukod dito ay ang katotohanan na marami din na may bitbit na kalbaryong hindi pwedeng basta-basta na lang pwedeng bitiwan dahil ito ay isang tanikalang tinakdang bitbitin ng malupit at mapagbirong tadhana.

Miserable Pity Party

Despondent to the misery
Anticipating short-changed catharsis
Temper trapped between depression and crankiness
All I can say is goodnight