Zipper

It was rainning yesterday. It was the kind of rain that if it was a woman she would have been someone in deep sorrow, probably someone who lost a loved one, perhaps a woman who lost a lover, or a mother who lost a child. But guessing from the way she cried I bet she was a mother whose child had died and it must have been an abrupt departure for she was weeping so hard and cursing at the heavens.

Anyway, besides being rainy, yesterday was another boring day as well. These past few weeks our team is in idle mode. There was nothing much to do and I was running out of ideas for killing time. So I did what any bored and sleepy employee would do, go to the comfort room. Going to the comfort room hits three birds with one stone: i get to excrete bodily waste both liquid and semi-solid(semi-solid is better because it takes more time and I get to take power naps with my pants down), I get to kill time(at least five minutes to and from the CR), and my sleepiness disappears. Yesterday I 've been to the CR 8 times, and it could have been 9 or even 10 if it wasn't for the incident on the 8th. There were no prior ominous portents that foreshadowed such disaster, hence I went on my business blindly.

There I was standing in front of the urinal doing everything by the book. Everything was going smoothly up until I zipped my pants. I never thought that it could happen to me but then pop goes my zipper. I stood there dumbfounded for about 4.36seconds then I pretended that I was still peeing. When the coast was clear I went inside one of the cubicles. I frantically tried to put the zipper back together, but to no avail. I removed my pants so I can adress the problem better but still it was futile. During this strugle there were moments when I thouht of just laying on the floor curl into fetal position, suck my thumb and let the tears flow. I thought I was ready for anything that life has to offer, but I was humbled by that situation. I was so engrossed in anticipating the "big things" in life that I was not prepared for the "little things".

After about 20 mins of futile attempts I quit. I walked out of the CR coolfully with a broken zipper. I walked slowly, for sudden motion may expose my friend Carter. Then finally I stapled it shut inside my cubicle. I never stood up again until I went home. It was rainning hard and my zipper was broken...life is wonderful.

Room With No Echoes

It's been 77 days since I first set foot in Japan, until now I am still stepping on it's soil. Leaving my motherland, the pearl of the orient seas, to come and suckle at the supple bosom of the land of the rising sun for financial supplement was bittersweet. It was a trade off, as life always is. Coming to Japan, on one hand, meant: fortune, expansion of horizon, money, evolution of nihongo and technical skills, thousands of yen, meeting new people and hopefully making new acquaintances which may become friends, earning more, chance to eat sushi from seven eleven Japan branch, to become an ambassador of good manners and right conduct for the Filifins, becoming a "bagong bayani" and help the economy of the Motherland grow and someday become a super power among third world countries, and other ek-ek chuvaruuus... On the other hand it meant: leaving my beloved Motherland, being farther from my family, and the most difficult choice of all, leaving (temporarily) the warmth of the woman I love. Char!
It was my first time to travel beyond the borders of "Inang Pilipinas". I was teary-eyed as I gazed from the aircraft window to the deep blue sea below. Memories were flashed in my mind projected by my heart, kinda like a slideshow in multiply.com with tags and album titles, vivid images fading in transition. It's not that I'm leaving this world or somethin', but something inside of me started to grow and it's not because of the sexy lady walking along the cabin aisle... of course not! It was a feeling. I felt like I was leaving a big part of me behind, as if there was something missing -- I was not complete. My mind looked forward for the imminent adventures waiting for me in the land of the rising sun, yet my heart was desperately holding on to the vivid memories of a loving face.
Now, it is 11:50pm. I am alone in the room with no echoes. Desperately searching for solutions for the noise frequencies of a machine that can never give me love. It's so quiet in here I can here the ticking of the clock mocking me. I am alone and lonely. The milk from the bossom is getting sour. I am alone and lonely, but at least I can pick my nose without reservation and fart at will. Gotta go, or I'll miss the train. Miss you Haze.