Haven't you heard?!!

Have you ever wondered what is it that can happen during those rainy nights? When you are driving along the road? Sometimes, you might find yourself in a busy road, with cars whizzing past you. Some of them might be in a hurry, wanting to escape from the depressing weather, and to go back to that warm meal waiting for them. Their wifes have been waiting, tending their gardens while peeking over the fence to catch a glimpse of their husbands. What took them so long? Most times, the husbands finally arrived at the door, wet and drenched. Nobody seemed to mind. At least he is back. Their little children impatiently leaned close to their father to steal a peck, hoping for a loving reply from their tired father. The kids are happy, so was their mother.

One day, Doug failed to arrive home. It rained hard, and he could hardly glance through the windshield. It was a particularly difficult day, things did not go well at work. His boss had given him a hard time for not making enough sales. This was affecting his mood. He cursed his parents for giving him the name Doug. Doug.. Doug, DOuggg! It was a name for a big loser like him, he thought. It rhymed with Dog, which to his absurd mind, justified his failure at everything he did. He thought of his wife. They were happy once, well maybe for the first 3 months of his marriage. It was sweet. Love was all the both of them needed. Money wasn't an issue. Now everything had changed. Betty, as sweet as the name sounded, wasn't all syrupy like she was in the good old days.

He had been thinking to himself for quite a long time and did not realize that the car had brought him to a deserted road. Did the car bring him there, or he brought the car there? He couldn't recognize the area at all. Everything seemed foreign. He cursed again, what had he been thinking? He have not been a superstitious person by nature. What can happen to me? he thought. He was in his old car, finding himself in a derelict industrial area. He was a fan of technology. The technological boom in the early 1950s was fascinating. He loved his oven, his car (he liked his car best), his frozen food and everything automatic. In this awful climate, he thanked god for the windshield wiper (even if he knew it wasn't god that had created it). How could he ever drive home to his less than warm home without it?

The rain grew heavier and he tried his best to navigate back to his original destination. He turned up the speed of his wiper. It was so dark here, he thought. The wiper began taking up speed as if to chase away he rain, allowing its master to arrive early. And then it became uncontrolable. It moved faster and faster and faster until the glass broke! It still wasn't satisfied. Inch by inch it lurched towards Doug's face. Not a whimper came out of Doug's lips, he just looked at it with fear radiating out of the eyes.

Betty kept on watering the lawn, eventhough it was raining. Their home wasn't really that cold afterall.


Disclaimer: Does not apply to Dougs other than the one I mentioned above.

What is your opium?

Hi, a very warm thank you for the patient ones who still do not tire of this lazy blogger, after such a long absence. Has she lost her soul in Lala-land where vacations are the order of the day (everyday!) and even the meager responsibility of writing a few things in a forgotten blog is so hard to do?

Well, I am now officially in the Rat Race. Hope that explains a bit.

Perhaps I think having a first job is perfect for an idealist like me. I am optimistic in all things around me. Waking up early seemed (and still seems) romantic. Getting into a crammed train seems romantic too. Cramming my toes into more formal-looking shoes that is fit for work but not fit to my personality and getting sore legs after still is still bearable. I am feeling not busy enough. Getting more work seems perfect too.

The mentioned-above(s) might not appeal to many, but I do believe that if I have a dream, and that if I work and live according to my own principles and standards that I have self-imposed to myself, I will be happy. Nothing seems to be able to irritate and provoke me. I don’t see any obstacles. I feel invincible.

Somehow these traits seem to make me a perfect Communist. I do not have anyone charismatic who I owe my loyalty to but the feeling of having something so strong in my heart that I believe in despite sometimes seeing the true facet of the big, bad world. I am like a Communist, but I walk alone, not hearing any propaganda but from myself. Sometimes it’s not a bad idea to be blind too, in my case, selectively-blind.

Maybe Optimism is my opium, numbing me from realizing the ugly facet, but it’s also my savior.

When will this beautiful illusion expire? When will the effect of my opium wear off? This I leave to you to figure.



p.s. I am not in real-life, a Communist. I am fully supporting Democracy, but not our current brand of it, but the ideal version that would never materialize.