Calls To Arms And All That

As if my body needed more reminders of how unwell it has become over the past couple of decades, here I am, blogging about the past couple of weeks at 3 AM while fighting off the worst flu I’ve ever had in my life. No kidding. I took like three pills for the flu and one for the common cold, all at once, just for kicks, and it kinda fucked me up a little.

I have to say, the past couple of weeks have been slow, but it has been hard. I’m feel that I’m in both an emotional and physical shambles, but while I’d like to think that I’m on the road to recovery, sometimes recovery isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be. I haven’t had more freak out episodes in such a short span of time before, and believe it or not, I almost find it enjoyable.

A Comedic Birthday. Last time I hit the mic, it was one of the regular comics’ birthday. It was fun, having to do my set and a roast at the same time. Being drunk off my ass was fun too, but then again, despite all the negatives that come with the morning after, it always has been my resort to get drunk in such levels when in doubt. Watching a grown man cry while telling jokes was an unexpectedly pleasant sight to see. For someone who’s never had a birthday bash thrown in my honor, I wondered what it would be like, having enough people that love you to actually fill an entire bar.

I think this was when the ordeal of the following couple of weeks began. I’ve been questioning my worth to some of my nearest and dearest for some time now, and on that comedic night, it became foremost on my mind.

The Wrath. A couple of nights later, there was an incident wherein I truly felt disrespected and cast aside by people I never expected were capable of doing so. At least, not on that level. But I got angry. I’m talking really angry. 2009 angry. And in a rare moment of emotional honesty, I let it show. I honestly could not remember the last time I indulged in such fury.

Incidentally, I was with the Salesman as things went down. We were discussing prospects for the stand up open mic, and he and his girl somehow convinced me to just not act on my anger more than I did, and at that point, he proceeded to calm me down with a bottle of cheap tequila. Took a long walk home, drunk once more, seething with anger, and it occurred to me that it’s quite a while since I have felt something, anything, with such intensity. Stand up comedy is very important to me, but even during the first nights I hit the mic I felt nothing more than pre-performance tension. When I did well, a shrug and a smile was all I could muster. It has been a while since I allowed myself to act with such passion, and it was a tad alien to me. By the time I got home, I was already back to the overly rational side of myself, and amidst the clinical coldness, I remained awake, lost in thought.

Office Drama. I work on the weekends, on most weekends at least, and like I said before, the new job suits me just fine. On this weekend however, I was feeling a little more energetic than I should be and I casually asked an officemate to go out for drinks. What happened next was beyond my control. Nearly everyone who reported in to work that weekend joined us, and I had the privilege and discomfort to listen to the things that went on in the office that, given the lack of time I actually spend it in, I never was able to notice.

These guys needed a break so bad, and one of them even voiced it to me. That if it wasn’t for my presence, they all would’ve just gone home, with silent musings and complaints. Apparently, I have a newfound purpose that is somehow off my job description.

A week later, another officemate actually couldn’t hold in her troubles and started sharing them with me, and even up to this point, I never get why I’m always in these kinds of situations. I think it comes with excess, man. Like, people who are rich are always approached by others who need to borrow a few bucks, or people with a lot of connections are approached by others who are in need with assistance with certain things. People see a guy who laughs and smiles all the time, people approach him expecting either to be cheered up or listened to.

I have no complaints, though, at least not with the co-workers. While I may be a little miffed about making personal connections that I swore I’d avoid in this new environment, they do give me something else to think about. I am particularly interested as to how things will play out, because it’s really nice to be a mere observer to drama for a change.

Another Call to Arms. There are times wherein you just need to feel special, and people like always have to find ways to feel like that. Other people get that privilege handed to them, whether they deserve it or not. So I decided to have one of those ridiculously unhealthy nights of mine and sent out a call to arms to everyone in the South, and I do mean everyone. The results were astounding.

What was supposed to be a night of me being self indulgent turned out to be a mere update of people whose lives I may have touched before, but have been plucked away by circumstance. From the Big Man talking about how effective this new diet thing of his is, to the Gadgeteer displaying his new lifestyle change. There were two highlights of the night, if I were to choose only two.

The first would be seeing BFF once more, after a year of non-communication. She was still pretty much the same person, despite the changes that have gone on with her life. A little self destructive still, but packs more wisdom than most people. with her, as with most people I hold in high regard, the world is viewed through a simplistic, yet undeniably optimistic manner. She is, we are, larger than life, which is something that I guess I need more of these days. She got me and the Big Man coffee, cause I was really drunk, and I remember that time she was so shit faced and I had just come back from Puerto Galera and attended a meeting in Makati before heading to Purgatory. We were sitting in the back of the training, and she was singing songs to me cause I kept falling asleep. I don’t know why that sticks out. I guess I don’t have that many people who’d look after me, cause I never really allowed it. She was one of those rare people who i didn’t resent for pampering me, cause she did it in a manner that did not make me feel inferior.

And then, after that visit to Purgatory, the Big Man and I continued to drink in a night that was most educational, and admittedly, life threatening. In a sort of good way. Getting palpitations in a bar has become somewhat of a staple to me.

After I had gone home, I realized that there was something essential that I’m missing, something that would negate the necessity of nights where I end up having to nurse myself back to health just so I could come to work the following day. It’s something that I need to find soon, though.

A NIght with The Human Torch. I had recently determined that there’s this condition I need to work on, and as I was on the path to recovery, I felt the need for another mindless distraction. No one was around to provide that, and due to certain complications, I had to travel to Cavite anyways. Due to an unexpected turn of events, I ended up drinking with the Human Torch. This was the first time I ever went one on one with Boys’ resident golden child, and it was surprisingly pleasant. More than pleasant, in fact. We spent the night talking about old cartoons we used to watch, and old video games we used to play. Even touched on his relationship with the girl who I, not that it matters to anyone, no longer approve of, and about the new love of my life, stand up comedy.

I even received a phone call from the Salesman, who asked me to join in on this party they were having in Alabang. In the background noise, I could hear loud music, drunken laughter and everything that I was looking for specifically for that night. I said no. See, what I wanted that night was a distraction, what i got was something more meaningful.

I mentioned this a lot, but that particular street, and the people in it, was the only constant thing in my life. Estranged from my actual relatives for more than a decade, the HIdalgo Boys had become my surrogate family, and last year, when I moved out, and the Big Man changed addresses, there was nothing left for me to consider an anchor to the hazy shit my life has become since graduating. I don’t know if any of the other boys feel as much of a sense of loss as I do, but there has not been anything closely resembling security since the loss of the street. Everyone has moved on, even I have, but the street always served a distinct purpose for me. A night with the Human Torch reminded me of that. See, before some of us became rich, before some of us enjoyed pseudo-celebrity, before some of us ventured on to achieve happiness and fulfillment, we were just a bunch of kids who sat around and drank every Sunday, talking about nonsense only we can appreciate. I may not like thermal the time, but they’re family. And to this day, I’ve been looking for something vaguely similar.

I’m guessing I’ll be visiting the Human Torch more often now.

Phone Calls from the Familiar Side. On a day where I misplaced my wallet, suffered from the onset of my fever (that came with a few other icky complications) I was looking for company. No one would give it. I was determined to get it so much that I dragged my sick, broke ass towards the bus station to visit the girlfriend. That ended up in failure. The body can take little abuse these days. By some grace of some sort, I got a phone call from a friend who was in dire straits, as usual.

While I can’t really divulge the details of her problem, I have to admit that her call came at the right time. See, there’s a certain dynamic that comes with different pairings of people. There are just some people whose advice you could take and point of view you could take, and some who you can’t. You’re not going to ask for relationship advice from someone who’s had only one or worse, never had a, relationship. I can’t count how many times I’ve been driven to get drunk or worse because someone ill-equipped has told me not to. After all, if someone who’s as or even more dependent as I am would tell me to stop, I’d listen, cause they know what I’d be giving up, and they can see how bad my situation is, as opposed to someone who has not stared at the stars at 3 AM, blitzed out of his or her mind, not knowing if one would still wake up the following morning and not caring. And there’s no point in asking the opinion of someone who does not know you, understand you, or has been through what you’ve been through. Most of the time people just like hearing his or her own voice.

Me, this friend of mine who called me, BFF, the Big Man, and a few others, we’re not normal. We are the ones who had never known the ideal, and we are the ones who have to fight hard for it. There’s a certain respect that comes with that, knowing that the person on the other end of the conversation has been through wars as tough as you have. That’s why I cherished most of the people I encountered in Purgatory, it’s why me and the Boys understand each other more than other people ever could. Life has dubbed us as losers by not giving us the breaks we need, so we adapted, and have decided to just take it. We are the world’s Bruce Banners, while the people on the other side are a bunch of Steve Rogerses and Tony Starks. We’re not completely happy, we’re far from perfect, but we make it work. Simply because we have to. Like I may said before, we are not losers, we’re survivors. We’re made from sturdier stuff, despite apparent weaknesses.

Repersonalization Begins. Given the events of the past couple of weeks now, the issue of self worth has taken a backseat to allowing myself to feel again. I’ve been so focused on being needed that I may have neglected my own needs. Recovery begins now, I guess.

 

~ by sunriseshotgun on March 18, 2011.