Wednesday, April 23, 2008

Zeezoobic

Recently, our gracious employers had the courtesy to send our rag-tag group of misfits and Internet meme geeks to the beaches of Subic. This so-called recreational trip, dubbed Zeezoobic, was months in planning, and the anticipation was on an all-time high. Granted, I already went to the former-military -base-turned-tourist-spot the week prior, the idea of mentally dissecting these diverse individuals was a welcome distraction to the day-to-day boondoggle that we subject ourselves to.

Of course, such long trips would require us to rendezvous on the godforsaken hours of the early morn like some deprived, militaristic gaggle of grunts. Suffice to say, the best solution for some was to forgo the comforts of their own beds and relatively clean bathrooms. Considering I had a prior engagement that night, I decided my best course of action was to give the Sandman the proverbial finger and make him wait until I was riding the bus before I succumb to his restful whispers.

True enough, I arrived early, lacking sleep and in desperate need of a caffeine fix. As exhilarating as the dawn's breeze was, the long trek on foot to the only convenience store of worth and the decision of skipping my usual 4 hours of slumber was beginning to prove foolish. Still, this was caffeine we're talking about, and God forbid I miss out on my daily intake.

The bus arrived rather early, which was a good thing as it only enticed us to consider further the hedonistic pleasures that we were about to be subjected to. Then again, perhaps hearing one such as myself asking for someone to lead a prayer erased all that, a foreshadowing of what lies ahead is a bizzarro world wherein the Rambler is actually religious. Guess what, there is that bizzarro world and you're living in it. You think you know, but you have no idea.

The trip itself was a blur, this was a far cry from my other travels with those of my usual circle of ...well, friends. That, and I was asleep majority of the time except for eating meals and answering the call of nature. I could go on and ramble further about the philosophical value of dreaming in a moving vehicle but quite frankly such things are best kept secret.

In the instance that we arrived I immediately felt the urge to gather insight upon seeing the pristine waters and fine grains of sand that lie before me. The rays of the scorching sun licking my exposed epidermis and the salty sea air has a mystique all on its own. Yes, poetic bullcrap once again, you'll get that a lot when the Rambler travels.

The food was a welcome development, any self-respecting kampampangan will tell you that. Insult their cooking and you're in for a world of fast-paced verbal assaults the likes that would make even the most brutally dry British tosser blush. Other things of note was the various amenities available to visitors. Clean bathrooms, karaoke machine, a makeshift volleyball court, jetski, banana boats, a billiard table and a gigantic chicken that probably owed its existence to Chocobos. Yes, this little shindig was proving to be well worth the price of admission (Seriously, the bathrooms alone are worth it).

Onwards to the itinerary. A pseudo-Amazing Race activity built to explore just how twisted the minds of the committee members are when it comes to formulating subtle tortures toward their fellow man. Weeks of scheming would come down to this, and expectedly, road bumps marred our well-planned gauntlet. Still, there's something about seeing co-workers suffer through a series of tests of your own making. Let's just say the Rambler felt a warm and fuzzy feeling inside.

The rest of the day allowed all to enjoy the amenities Sunset Cove had to offer. Despite the atrocious heat of the sun and sand, the time spent was quite relaxing. While the concept of seeing colleagues scantily-clad in their swimwear provided new... erm.. observation towards such persons, it was the landscape that proved to be quite impressive. The refraction of the setting sun's light against the calm waters painted a wonderland of orange and purplish horizons. The mountainside was donned with a tangerine veil that only added to their enigmatic aura. Greens and blues gave off a different tint, making one think this was some sort of messed-up crossover collaboration between dirty hippies and a drugged-up Van Gogh.

In a manner of moments, it was nightfall and this means only one thing. Booze and merriment. While the unfortunate few may have missed the happenings of that evening, those moments, those little glimpses of possibilities will live on in my memory forever, for the sake of blackmail of course. I could go on detail on the events that night, but then again, let that be our little group's secret. While the Rambler did wish for certain things to happen or to develop, the idea that everyone was enjoying themselves was perhaps enough, and whatever selfish reasons I had were best left in the back burner, or better yet, forgotten forever like the futile pursuit that it was.

After awakening from alcohol-laced sleep, I was surprised to find out most of memory was still intact.... much to my chagrin. Still, this day could only prove to be even better. While it was less controversial as... say, the night prior, the enjoyment was still present. By the way, beach volleyball is fun, as long as the ball does not come to you.

It was time to go home and it felt bittersweet. The idea of going back to your comfort zone is always nice, but leaving Zeezoobic felt a lot like leaving unfinished business. Whatever that business is, I don't know. Still can't help shake the feeling that there was something that I should have done. Meh, such musings are boring at best I always say.

The return to normalcy can be a downer, but the idea of going back knowing that we bonded with each other can be quite exhilarating and overwhelming at the same time. I'd like to think that Zeezoobic is but the first step to a lot of things in our little slacker company's future. For ill or for better, Zeezoobic will always be ours, no matter what.

Tuesday, April 15, 2008

Sometimes, Games Are All We Have

It is quite normal that people associate life with games. After all, there are certain rules that govern our existence, some to be followed, bended, or simply broken. Some people are better at it and some are not. Suffice to say, whether we like it or not, we all play our own little games.

Our propensity to play these games differ from person to person. At the end though, it is all a matter of knowledge. Knowledge on the other players, the field of battle, our own capabilities and whatnot. Some use influence, physical beauty, sweet and enticing words, wealth and other creative factors that can help in managing the hand we've been dealt with. There's something to be said about people who can do this on conscious level over those who only do it subconsciously. Frankly, caution with dealing with such individuals is the first reaction, unless of course one is capable of going with the tide of the game, scheming, plotting and waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Otherwise, it is only pure luck and the randomness of human emotions that decide the outcome of such unbalanced interactions.

Now, this may sound all diabolical, only because this Rambler does not ascribe to the notion that such mind games are intended to one-upmanship and harm. Games are meant to be fun after all. The witty banter and clever retort of two scribes, the listless dance of flirting and the mystery of budding relationships can prove to be just as complex and strategically interesting as the most putrid and disgusting web of lies some players are capable of weaving. Games, just as anything that mankind can cook up is a neutral tool - its intent, motivation and moral direction dependent on its wielder.

The more serious of us would claim that life is not a game. Yet the metaphor matches so well that one wonders if such ideals are but another way of playing. While these people may believe in their hearts of hearts that they are not partaking of such parlor activities, others may still be playing with them, or worse, playing THEM.

After all, try us we might, the world does not revolve around any of us, and a thousand games, each with their own set of rules and nuances, are present in all interactions and relations we have. But there is something that holds such things together, something deep and meaningful, something that goes beyond mere games. Be it genuine interest or the sincere longing for social interaction, the games we play may actually revolve around that very thing. Whatever it is, it must be really worth playing for. Otherwise, and it would be quite melancholic to think so, games are all we'll ever have.

Friday, April 4, 2008

What dreams may come

Dreams have always boggled mankind. A bevy of mental images strewn by our complex subconscious, dreams hold many meanings, some of which we easily misinterpret. Even the so-called experts of dreams have yet to find the definitive truths regarding the uncharted realm of our minds. Of course, can we really blame them? Consider for a moment that no two people are exactly the same, and then you have numerous ideas clashing together in a maelstrom of emotions, biases and whatnot. It wouldn't be a stretch to claim that dreams are unique to their owner, oh no, not at all.

I like dreams, they are certainly preferable to nightmares. But nightmares are just bad dreams, a representation of what we do not fully comprehend. It is simply our imagination twisted by that ignorance, giving birth to the bastard children of inherent reluctance to the unknown and lack of understanding of what is beyond our bubble of knowledge.

I would daresay however, that certain dreams are far worse than nightmares. Take for example, a dream that presented itself quite recently. In this lifelike vision, I saw the past change, shifting to a more desirable outcome, one that has eluded me in reality. Oh Lady Reality, you heartless bitch. How I loathe and adore thee.

What made this imagery even more loathsome is presence of a current prospect, forced to watch as I shut her off abruptly from the possibilities of our collaboration. Would she really care? This musing was fleeting, as bliss took me captive, promising a delightful prison of which I would joyfully cage myself into, or so I thought. While the dream was indeed so life-like that I found myself asking if this is really happening, the truth was slowly beginning to manifest itself. Starting as a slow murmur, it built itself up, slapping me silly and finally reminding me of the cold, harsh truth. This was not real.

One might ask, why do I consider this vision distasteful? Surely my truest desires are coming true, only in my head yes, but the normal reaction would be a pleasant one, correct? It is perhaps my new found grasp of morality, or despite how badly I want this fake reality to come into being I know it to be nothing but a lie. It's a distinct possibility that I did not want to ruin the present, no matter how uncertain it is. Or maybe, just maybe, this was not what I really wanted?

It is for this very reason that despite waking up without the cold sweat and uncontrollable shaking akin to vivid incubi, I would gladly welcome such minute irritations over the nagging feeling of mixed wonderment and muddiness. The aftermath of having dreams that border between true desire, clairvoyance and wishful thinking have a tendency to make us stop and look, wondering what might have been, what could be, and even what may never be.

Questions have a way of popping up like mushrooms, and in this case the figurative fungi was sprouting out in full force. Was I looking at an alternate reality, a path that I was unable to explore in the storyline of my existence? Or was I looking at a sign that there is a second chance and would ignoring this sign close that window of opportunity for all eternity? Or was I simply looking at the mirror image of my regrets and failed aspirations taking shape in my dreams?

Dreams like these, hopefully come and go, however the fallout - the markings - that they leave will probably come back to haunt us over and over again, and unfortunately, the answers and the solutions, may never come to us in this lifetime.