Just Who The Hell Do I Think I Am?

I have always question my own selfish interests, now, more so, in the waking hours . Not that I am going insane or anything. Wait. I am insane, so no chance of getting any insane-er.  It’s more like a personal debate I have with myself every time things get too hairy or to close for comfort.

But since a friend dropped by and we enjoyed that half a bottle of brandy I was saving to spike my coffee with, it was worth it. Jof came by and asked to stay awhile , so we talked and we discussed those stuff that always seem to lead to out own misgivings, mistakes and triumphs at work. Jof, by the way is a wizard with design and layout with architectural flavor, and I kinda like that from the guy, since I can’t even do a decent 3D image with Google SketchUp.

But it was a short stay, and he has to leave, but not before we tasted a jigger of that fine Barley Shochu a new Japanese friend gave me ( domo arigato, Riki-san). But we had to leave it for later. And here I am, still waiting for some images on the email for my web design assignment.

So, while I wait for my housemate Jackson, and with the little bit of sobriety left in me tonight, I opened this blog and started writing stuff.

You know. . .

Stuff.

And masks.

Masks we all wear.

I have worn so many masks in my life. Hence that stinging title I place at the start of this blog post:

“Just Who The Hell Do I Think I Am?”

And it never fails to bring be back to reality.  Well, reality is much more cruel than any fantasy or science fiction I have read or heard. And there’s always a mask for that. Like an app. Everything seems to be an app these days. All for the sake of convenience.

So masks it is.

GuyFawkes

The most popular mask nowadays, but this one signify defiance.

We wear different kinds.

There was an uprising, a demonstration, an event that happened worldwide. With masks, to defy those people in power who wear masks. So what better way as a counterpoint to all that’s happening, but with another mask? Frankly, it’s humorous and frightening. It frightens me when time comes I can’t restrain myself anymore and go to the streets to sound off my own grievances. We are society and this is our fault. And we are also the society that should change things.

But how?

Even now, my Tweetdeck is buzzing and endlessly rolls feeds of tweets and RT‘s of things #MillionMaskMarch and yet did the media cover it extensively as they would cover an old musician’s sex life?

No.

Did my network have a substantial coverage of the event that happened here and elsewhere?

A little.

They said there were only a handful of people out there in Batasan.

And yet, it was happenning.

Like the elephant in the room that nobody sees. Or the pubic hair in the punch bowl that everyone ignores, so as not to make a commotion.

But what the heck right? Who do I think I am? have I the right to complain about such things? Even at my workplace there are masks present. Mask we use to buffer ourselves from some wannabe-power-hungry-authority-grabber personality. Since when did connection weigh much over skill? Since when did name dropping ever get anywhere in this life?

I guess we are doomed then. Here we are complaining and getting all riled up about PDAF and politicians, and yet the workplace alone is a boiling room of politics!

But, fuck that, I’m too laid back now and too cool to rant about such things.

I’ll just enjoy this mask of content until the alcohol wears off. Or maybe if those emails contains the images I’m waiting for.

What do you think? Leave a comment . . .

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