Anyway, weeks have passed and I really missed doodling here. I don't have any reflections written yet after that. I was a bit busy churning my new routines, doing some editing jobs now in a place they call here Media City. Here, there's city for every industry or for anything at all. And media is clearly defined as an industry. (Yes, I am back to money-making, not so much though, I try to be modest in many ways, but not in the false way.) Probably one day I'll have the chance to write about it. I'll be ashamed to call myself a journalist. It would be a disgrace to the word. Yet so many call themselves so. For me, it all boils down to purpose, intent.
At 29, I am not shy I have reached this age and still ranting. I realised I should be proud ranting. Some people have just grown tired of it. Or have forgotten to care about even the simplest things. They just keep moving on, go with the flow. Try to be happy (or pretend to be happy). As for me, I am not perfectly happy. I am unhappy at times. I am content with some things in my life that I couldn't ask for more, but somewhere down deep, I know there's more we have to strive for -- far more than jsut having the means to do things. Isn't that what keeps us alive?
So, on my birthday, my husband gave me a tinnie-minnie gadget called mp4. I didn't know at first what was the difference with the mp3s. It is very common for me to see joggers, walkers or bus riders to have something inserted right through their ears. Nobody bothers to listen to chit-chats ( I love inadvertent eavesdropping!) on the bus. But what I loved about this mp4 is that I can jazz on the bus with Monk or Davis. Or groove with the African music, or simply trip hop with Nitin Sawney. I discovered how it has become a very effective stress-buster! I travel almost two hours a day coming back home because of too much traffic. So I loved it because it is fun and it is practical.
I realised how I've become more practical. I'm not a gadget fad crazy. I really am, and believe so, old-fashioned. Perhaps, I've become more practical, always weighing the value of something over thoughtless happiness. When you know how hard it is to earn one's corn, you realise how to value every penny. And when you realise how to value every penny, you learn how to focus and prioritise. (Yes, I have successfully become a 29-year-old adult!)
But my point is, I really loved the gift. Listening to the music I like as opposed to watching palaces as I pass by the beach road every five in the evening, gives me a different feeling. I have loved riding the bus even more. Of course, at times I purposely take it off my ear. It's nice to listen to Filipinas chit-chatting about work, what food to cook at home, whose boyfriend broke up with whom, or simply ranting about a 'different' smell. But what I love more is I also hear a different language, some words not so familiar, some talks so fast, it sounds like a chirping bird. But it sounds really nice and alive. The whole bus is so alive! Those moments made me feel I belong somewhere, that I am part of a past experience although I may have been silent about it at times.
Despite the system that runs this world, there were moments that I felt some level of cultural blending here. Maybe because we all share the same trauma every day, waiting for the bus to come, and hoping that we'll get a seat.
But the best feeling is that I am proud that have come from a place I love, that I represent and it represents me into this world where everything does not always spell a fair chance. It's also not so bad to revel at that, and pin my hopes on small, small things.
