It’s not really my thing that I write something like “10 ways to become happy” but this one is somehow the same sort as that one. If you happened to know how I’ve been through my career these past few months, then you have an idea that if this post relates to it then it’s all about complaints. Miraculously, I’m not going to complain on this one. I just want you to take my advice this evening: “LIVE”

When you’re not happy anymore of what you’re doing yet, are obliged to do it, you tend to just let loose with your performance.. I mean, you just tend to not do 100% of what you can anymore. But if you’re expected to do your best.. hmmmm.. then, you just give it a shot with your pretentious way of showing off you’re really good when actually you just cheated because you really hate what you’re doing (funny how I say ‘you’ when it has something to do with me… Well, my dear reader, just feel my agony, that’s just my point)…

Sometimes, we tend to escape it, face the other face of the world without it, without those nagging pressures they leave on our shoulders. That’s exactly what I did just yesterday and a while ago (and maybe also tomorrow): A life out of it all and just relaxing for a while. We all need to step back and see how much things we’ve been missing out. Not all the time do we need to tie ourselves in the chains of our obligations and responsibilities. Responsibility is a wardrobe that we need not to take off to avoid shame. But sometimes, we need to take it off to see how much we also need to appreciate the beauty we have underneath those garments. And so, weekends are blessed for me. I always say this: WEEKENDS ARE MINE. Weekends are spent exclusive for my own trips, not for some other obligations. So please, LAY OFF MY WEEKEND!!

What I try to point out here is that IF WE WANT TO BE REALLY HAPPY, WE DON’T HAVE TO PUSH OURSELVES TO DO THINGS WE DON’T LIKE DOING. Live life!! There’s a lot more in there than we know. (Is it me or did I sound inspirational as if I’m an avid Bible reader?)

The passage that really made me understand what paradox is like is: “The only permanent thing in the world is change.” And the passage delivers a very well established thought. Yes, indeed! Everything changes and we can’t control it most of the time---and it is permanent in this world. Sometimes, it’s a bad change. At times, change is beneficial—otherwise known as development.

The complain that I’ve change ever since I began a relationship had been a passing-by issue and is completely absurd to whine about at this very moment. Yes, it’s true—I did change during the first few months I entered this relationship. But I got the hang of it, both of us did. And we were back to who we are completely and we thought our friends understand about it already. We went on this year without that ‘change’ issue. But later on I’d find out it’s still something someone’s whining about? Odd…

First of all, we can’t avoid change in some ways, like my availability, my actions, my words, my reaction to some things related to us.. Yes, THERE ARE CHANGES. I’m not single anymore. But, I made sure I can still hold on to my SELF and that I still care for my FRIENDS. But it seems to me that some of them just want us the way we were back when we were single: always available, focused on them and their feelings with undivided attention. Sometimes, I even quip: “What do they want us to do? Kiss and hug them while we kiss and hug to each other??” or “Do they want us (me and my Baby) to forget each other when we’re together??” Odd… Enough!!! If that’s a fact that they can’t take anymore, it would be better to leave them behind because they can’t accept the CHANGE in us… Why can’t they be contented that they are still OUR FRIENDS and that we STILL CARE ABOUT THEM? (It’s just that now, we can’t give full focus because my Baby and I also got each other)

And what bugs me is that a person whines about our change and even is mad about us (????) because of it. I say: “What did our change do to you?? Did it step on your dignity to have such grudge?? Did our change affect your life greatly to have such anger to us??”

I don’t want to do this and hear once more that I said another through blogging but this one’s frustrating considering that the person concerned does not want to talk it over yet. I understand if he/she doesn’t want to for a while. But the idea of “PRETENDING WE’RE OKAY WHEN WE SEE EACH OTHER EVERYDAY” is disgusting. I’m not mad at this certain person… I’m just frustrated because every reason given to us is ABSOLUTELY IRRATIONAL. That’s all… because even that person changed in some ways… But I’d be glad if that person GROWS.. Really.. GROOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWWWWW….. Because I still care for her.. I just think that he/she is not fully exposed to how I liberate people around me due to usual absence and bonding failures. There are gaps, really.. I need to communicate to this person at the farthest reach I can because WHEN PEOPLE TEND TO BE STUBBORN, THEY TEND TO CLOSE THE DOORS DESPITE LOGICAL REASONS.

It was the third night that my Baby would spend the evening at the comfort of MY OWN HOME. It was all so sudden that my Baby ranaway, stayed at my house, and easily blended in with the environment as part of my family. We were having a little fun time at quarter to ten in the evening in my bedroom when we were suddenly interrupted by my father telling us that my Baby's grandfather was downstairs.

Both of us were dumbfounded, blinked and wished it was all a joke. The words from my father's mouth sounded very impossible. But we were called once more. We heard that nagging noise downstairs coming from the old devil, my Baby's grandfather.

We stopped for a while. We knew that my Baby was being picked up to go home. How disappointing it was that we thought it would be just another pleasant evening together. My fist clenched quite tightly that my phone felt the anger I was releasing upon my grip.

This is it. Somebody blew the whistle. I am exposed to the damned family of my Baby. What's worse: MY FAMILY IS ALSO EXPOSED----OUR HOME, MY PARENTS, MY SIBLINGS.

We spent the next few minutes letting the damned old devil blabbered his lies to my parents as if he's a professional liar. Then, I tried to intrude, shortly pointing out HIS mistkaes in handling a child. But my father asked me not to speak more. We had to submit to this or else a bigger controversy would emerge.

What's more damned and tormenting than leading your beloved one home (in my Baby's case, in 'prison' or 'dungeon') along with an evil bald mythical monster. I grabbed the opportunity to talk to that fugly grandfather, slightly making my way in pointing out that I know better than he does. But he suddenly spilling out unnecessary words as we walked--he talked nonstop worse than a mad girl!! He's like an unsilenced fag!! As we walked, I was giving him a Whatever Sign on his back.

After this event, days have become cloudy. This seems to me as the darkest hours in our relationship. This is the part that we can barely move at all. I AM EXPOSED. Anytime, my family could be in danger once we make a false step.

To be continued...

There I stood at the center of everyone trying to impersonate the Terror of the whole campus. And SHE WAS THERE, WATCHING ME while I claimed my IMPERSONATOR OF THE YEAR award that Christmas season. I tried what I could but I couldn’t move anymore—SHE WAS THERE!! She shook her head and told me that I was not good enough to impersonate her. Hehehe…

I made sure that I post this article, she’s out of my life. If you happen to know whom I’m talking about, she had been the topic of my blogs about agony when I was a college student whom I hid by the name of “Prof M” (Professor Mischievous). Being the most terror of all professors in the campus, she became our teacher for two years straight (she loves us, I guess)…

Under her, my classmates and I had gone through all challenges and grief as we strived for justice!----I mean freedom!---I mean for our grades and learning. Not a single day was spared for a little sermon. Everyday we hope that she would not arrive in our classroom or that she would not be late. It even came to a point that we were praying because we wanted the class to go well with her on that day. Some friendships were even tested. And even on stormy days, we were forced to go out of our houses to finish, print and bind our compilations for her because we were thinking that even if there is a suspension of classes, She might require us to pass her requirement (redundant?).

Another interesting fact about her is the way she dresses. There are only a few times she dressed well—and many a time she dressed to try hard to create some impression (bad impression is more how it seemed)… I can’t forget the outfit she once wore at the time she made almost all of us in class get out of the room for not being prepared enough: White shirt, long denim skirt with very high slits, and rubber shoes. I tagged her then as “The Devil Wears Nike”.

Her reminder: Be always prepared before you come to the classroom. We do our best to prepare but there are so many times that the topic which we expected to talk about on those days is not what she would discuss. And then there are times that she would become inconsistent of her statements (like when she said she had a photographic memory then she said after a few months that she doesn’t)… She was also the cause why people in our course would be seen running in the campus in haste. She would also be the reason why a huge crowd causes a hullabaloo and commotion over a sheet of paper for attendance.

Many stories are still not shared regarding this matter. But for now, let me end my article by saying that even if we had such fun and pleasant times with her, still we were able to learn things besides her lessons. I learned to be always prepared, and I believe in her training because it made me stronger because there can be such person as her in the outside world… So I know now how to deal with such creature—I mean person. I also learned why she required some stuff for us—that those things are either for our own good or for her ease when she grades us (techniques we teachers could also use). So, okay, yeah, she was good in some sense. But the agony usually dominates our memory about her.

Students find the opportunity to ask their teachers some personal questions when the teacher runs out of things to say, especially if the lesson is over and there is a free time before the next period arrives. I was caught in one event when out of the blue a student asked me, “Do you really want to become a teacher?” I had an immediate answer but I had to parry the question to avoid any issue.

Months have passed and as the days make me grow, I grow tired of working. No, not generally about working but particularly about my work as an educator. I’ve said this over and over again and I will state once more: This is not really my dream job. It just so happened that I graduated on this profession and then I had to find an immediate job. So here it is… But here I am; exhausted.

There isn’t any job that is not really tiring. But this one forces out all of my complaints because I don’t really love what I’m doing. I like in some way like for example, I get to meet different sorts of human characteristics (my favorite subject!). I get to observe a lot about this generation. AND also, I get to teach them to communicate AND to MAKE SENSE WITH THEIR LIVES (especially my homeroom). But this is not my passion. Teaching is a very NOBLE (MOST NOBLE, I may say) profession. Teaching is a door that welcomes its pupils to great opportunities of exploring the world. But this is not for me.

What? I’ll end up becoming a call-center agent? … No, it’s not a profession and is never part of my dreams. But maybe for some financial reason, yeah, why not? But I want more. I want to pursue my passion in writing, in song writing, in photography, and many more arts mostly connected to the media.

I’ll get there someday. I’m glad when people I know are living their dreams already—because I wish I was strong enough to do so for myself. But I’ll get there… It starts NOW….