The victim of my own blind self

Today, before daybreak I had a dream...

I was standing alone, in a solitary waiting-shed. Its roof is rusty and full of holes supported by dilapidated concrete posts, the supporting steel bars are exposed, protruding like broken bones.

It was the only structure in that old one-way highway which seems to be leading nowhere – to eternity I supposed.

I looked at the horizon hoping to see where the highway ends, but it just converged into a tiny dot, unmoving against the dancing dusts on that gloomy day.

I am calmly waiting for the bus. I just stand there motionless, anxiously staring at the other end of the highway, hoping for the bus to come, occasionally looking at the setting sun - or was it rising?… I don’t know.

Then a boy with a backpack, wearing a school uniform suddenly appear as if he just get off a school bus, smiled at me and said, “Tatlong beses ng dumaan yung bus!” [The bus passed by three times already!]
I was shocked because I didn’t saw any.

Then I woke up, drenched with sweat and confused.

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Epilogue

I always admire the patience of the river snails and the tenacity of the cogon grass – qualities that, I believe was the result of a long period of time spent waiting. Hence, I programmed myself to wait.

I always wait; for things as mundane as waiting for the bus, the fastfood queue, for the water to boil, for the heavy rain to fall, for my hair to grow; OR for grand events like the Noche Buena, a perfect relationship, a son, and a final chance to hold those I love…

What if those very important things, I hold most dear and longingly waited for is already here or already passed by, repeatedly presenting itself to me. I just don’t recognize it, refused to recognize it or just plainly ignore it – because ambition, pride or whatever WTF blinded me.

Or maybe because I just don’t really know what I am waiting for. Letting life slip by without noticing the important but very simple details.

Now I know why I always felt I’ve waited long enough – because I am a victim of my own blind self.

Have you ever felt that way too? Or maybe I am just tired and bored.

The Taste of Banzo's Sword

Matajuro Yagyu was the son of a famous swordsman. His father, believing that his son's work was too mediocre to anticipate mastership, disowned him.

So Matajuro went to Mount Futara and there found the famous swordsman Banzo. But Banzo confirmed the father's judgment. "You wish to learn swordsmanship under my guidance?" asked Banzo. "You cannot fulfill the requirements."

"But if I work hard, how many years will it take to become a master?" persisted the youth.

"The rest of your life," replied Banzo.

"I cannot wait that long," explained Matajuro. "I am willing to pass through any hardship if only you will teach me. If I become your devoted servant, how long might it be?"

"Oh, maybe ten years," Banzo relented.

"My father is getting old, and soon I must take care of him," continued Matajuro. "If I work far more intensively, how long would it take me?"

"Oh, maybe thirty years," said Banzo.

"Why is that?" asked Matajuro. "First you say ten and now thirty years. I will undergo any hardship to master this art in the shortest time!"

"Well," said Banzo, "in that case you will have to remain with me for seventy years. A man in such a hurry as you are to get results seldom learns quickly."

"Very well," declared the youth, understanding at last that he was being rebuked for impatience, "I agree."

Matajuro was told never to speak of fencing and never to touch a sword. He cooked for his master, washed the dishes, made his bed, cleaned the yard, cared for the garden, all without a word of swordmanship.

Three years passed. Still Matajuro labored on. Thinking of his future, he was sad. He had not even begun to learn the art to which he had devoted his life.

But one day Banzo crept up behind him and gave him a terrific blow with a wooden sword.

The following day, when Matajuro was cooking rice, Banzo again sprang upon him unexpectedly.

After that, day and night, Matajuro had to defend himself from unexpected thrusts. Not a moment passed in any day that he did not have to think of the taste of Banzo's sword.

He learned so rapidly he brought smiles to the face of his master. Matajuro became the greatest swordsman in the land.

A King-Size Bed As A Reward for Patience & Diplomacy

This event happened last November 16, 2008. I always remember this event in our Boarding House whenever I am in my room so I guess it is worth posting even if its about two months ago.
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One lazy Sunday afternoon while I was taking my luxury nap, I heard a loud hammering outside my room. Irritated because it woke me up, I grudgingly inquire what was happening, and to my horror, I found out that somebody was demolishing my room. Thanked heavens, I managed to keep my temper and diplomatically inquire as to what the hell is he doing?

I remembered that Ms. N., our new house caretaker cum mistress of the owner, informed me that my room would be demolished by the end of the month – suppose to be on the 30th of November, which gives me enough time to pack my things. The previous caretaker, the niece of the owner with a dysfunctional family, was so infuriated by the idea that the owner decided to give full control of the house to his mistress. So Mrs. L., the niece and adopted daughter of the owner, together with her husband Mr. E. – who depends on his wife to feed himself and his son and still living with his mother, was so enraged over the owner’s decision and decided to ransack the whole house. What happened next was a real chaos. They get all the things that they think was their property: from a simple cloth hanger, electric fans, furniture, light bulbs and yes including my room. They said that they installed it, so they must demolish it.

I do understand their rage because that means, now without the house, they have to work hard to earn a living. Unlike before, they will just longingly wait for the 15th and 30th of the month to collect the rent and have their regular drinking session – that is five times a week, believing that that was normal and that they are not yet alcoholic.

Out of their desperation, Mr. E. decided that end of November was too long and decided demolishing my room right at that lazy Sunday while I was taking my luxury cold afternoon nap.

Goddamn it! I know my right. I am religiously paying the monthly rent and they still have my one-month advance payment and one-month cash deposit. They cannot treat me like I am an illegal squatter. I decided to talk to both of them but Mr. E, obviously because of so much anger will not listen to reason and logic. So I insist on talking to the owner, which is by the way staying in the United States.

Anyway, I know Ms. N. is in constant communication with the owner via online webcam – making her an online mistress. So I immediately knock on her room. When she opened the door, I said Hey! Mr. E. is demolishing my room! I want to talk to the owner! To my relief, the owner Mr. J. was online at that moment and she immediately asked me to sit down in front of her webcam and talk to Mr. J. Out of the confusion Ms. N didn’t even closed those porn sites before letting me use her pc. While I was talking to the owner, I can still hear those oohhh! harder baby harder, ahhhh! – because, oh my gums! she was watching a porn video while chatting with the owner when I knocked on her room. Under the active chat window of Mr. J and me are nude pictures in action and partially hidden in the screen is the porn video with an ongoing orgy, in action like acrobats. What d’ fu*# is this girl doing in the middle of the afternoon while the crazy Mr. E is demolishing my room? It gave me terrible goosebumps, but my concern that time was some clarifications about my rights.

The owner promised me that they will install a much better room for me and asked me if I’m willing to temporarily stay in the bedspacer’s room. I agreed because I will only be staying there for two or three weeks and besides it's time that I should know the other new boarders and expand my circle of influence.

In the end, everything goes back to normal. I have a brand new room now. Very comfortable. Very convenient because they even included a small lababo inside the room. And the most important thing is that Mr. J. let me used his king sized bed just for me. Living a nice bachelor's life eh. A-huh, that's right, living single, independent and free in my own room.

Well, life is really getting better. I realized that diplomacy and patience is necessary to get the most out of a terrible and confusing situation.

We should also not try to talk to those people that we know will not listen to reason. Always talk to the right person and never try to argue to the angry one.