Rode our bikes again today but this time we went straight to UP and we stopped for a bit at the academic oval to listen to the birds whistling, chirping, calling to each other. People are still not allowed here but we bikers could, only for a bit, when we pass by School of Economics and College of Educ and turn right at Asian Center to go to the old Shopping Center and then to the old tennis court.
It was so eerie and yet beautiful. The absence of humans is unnerving but mesmerizing.
After a sip of water from our bottles, my daughter and I went straight to buy our veggies at the old tennis court. Because we are running low on veggies. I can’t seem to stock up on a lot of it that would last us a week because I have a small refrigerator. And since I was able to fix the clogged tubes in my fridge, it is now perfectly working and really cold, hence, I no longer have an excuse to buy me the Hitachi or Panasonic fridge. So I must shop frequently for veggies.
I have another bag of veggies at my pannier rack at the back. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
Hmm I wonder if I can fit a tent, sleeping bag, and pannier for food and camping stove on my pannier rack 🤔 Then cooking utensils in my bag at the handlebars. 🤔🤔🤔 Minimal clothes and toiletries on my backpack.
The question is, can I bike to my camping destination? 😂
National Science Complex. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
I was writing this piece that has been in writing purgatory for weeks… and glanced at the watch above my speaker that said it was already 4:00 pm but I still haven’t had lunch.
Then daughter asked if we could go biking. I glanced at my flabby tummy and as much as I want to lie down and rest my exploding head, I acquiesced that I needed the exercise.
By past 5 pm we were already on our saddles. We first cycled our way through almost all the streets in our village. By 6 pm-ish (I think), we biked our way into UP through one of the side gates and went to the National Science Complex.
Taking a water break. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
I missed this place. There’s still this twitch inside my gut, somewhere deep down, as this place holds bittersweet memories. But I’m better now, I think. For now. When we stopped by the benches, I took in the view and I felt… I don’t know, probably a mix of nostalgia and wistfulness. There’s a perfect word that embodies those feelings but it escapes me now.
I’ve come to love this place since it’s secluded and peaceful. And it’s where we found our kitties.
Free to run. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
There was also a family there with little kids with their bikes but that was it. We had the place to ourselves. I laid on one of the concrete benches there and stared at the sky that was already turning orange grey. I listened to the chirping birds flitting from one branch to another. Then the cicadas took over, signalling to us that we should be heading back home.
We had a good exercise; we got home at 7 pm. ✅ calories burned ✅ fresh air ✅ a way to get out of the house without having to be near another human being.
We’re going back there on weekend and we may bring snacks and we’ll see if we can lay down on the grass or the benches and stare up at the clear sky.
Sunset and sunflowers. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
We were able to go biking inside UP this afternoon after four months! I missed being in wide open spaces. I even missed shopping in that vegetable stall at the old tennis court.
Veggies and fruits. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
I can say they’re a lot cheaper than the stalls lining CP Garcia Ave. This sackful of veggies and fruits would have been PHP 1,000 there or at the supermarket but I was able to get these for PHP 200 less. And the volume is more than the usual.
Car-free. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
I had let my daughter, Twin I, bike freely here. It has been a long time since she biked without having to worry about cars. I did some brisk walking. We tried biking to some parts of the campus but it was already dark.
Cat waiting for her two-legged sister to come back. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
Last night I had been chatting with an ex-colleague for hours while we were holding a vigil for another ex-colleague who was about to expire.
Basically we waiting for the expected and praying for his eternal peace. He got severe Covid and while in the hospital, it was discovered he had terminal liver cancer. After he was off the tubes, he was allowed to go home for palliative care. Then we were told by his family that we can send him voice messages. I wrote about this a few days ago.
So last night this ex-colleague, A, and I were talking about him. We also talked about how we got so tired fighting for what we believed in, for what is right, which our sick friend and colleague, N, did all his life. He died last night while we were talking about him.
We all cared so much for an industry that did not love us back, that we were so passionate about our profession but we got burned so many times. There was so much corruption and abuse.
So it’s about time that we should start to live our lives, she said. Start preparing for retirement. She told me I was one of the few very good and clean journalists whom she wanted to stand out and do more great things but the system is so rotten that she understands why I turned my back on it. I told her I went to the extreme end; at least my niche is unapologetic about serving the corporate big machine and no pretense that this kind of journalism is the crusading kind. That it is upfront about being all about making money for our audience. That’s why I can be emotionally detached from it. Just bring my skills and produce good stories and that’s it. It was no longer about saving the world.
Every now and then I still do take up the cudgels, when the messiah syndrome comes knocking. One day I can go back to it. In another form. In some way or another.
A and I were talking about retiring into our small homes, growing our own food, living sustainably away from the city. She will go home to Mindanao while I am still figuring out where I want to go. My girls and I could end up in my hometown, or near the sea, or in Hyogo Prefecture, or outside Utrecht, or somewhere.
I’m no longer trying to reach the highest level in the ladder nor chasing accolades and titles…But I haven’t really been chasing them in the first place. I only felt pressured to do so when J came into my life because it was what he was chasing after. It was the time I questioned myself, what was I doing with my life? Why am I just stuck as a journalist when I can be doing something in the finance world?
Then when he dumped me, I began to question again what was really my core? What is my essence? What do I want to do for the rest of my life?
Peace. I want peace and contentment. I want to live a life, my life, and not chase somebody else’s dream for them.
So I am working towards that goal now. I don’t know how but I know I will get there.
Every now and then it does occur to me that I can pivot and do what my other ex-colleagues are doing now. My ex-boss in HK (also came from here, we were in the same circle when she was still here in the country) is now a managing director in an advisory firm, which I can do as well if I devote more years into this company to reach some milestones to fatten up my resume. Another friend who also came from a hardcore journalism background is now doing partnership deals for a fintech company. Which I think I can also do.
Now the question is, do I want to do it? Let’s see what the wind may bring. All I know is I want peace and to live my life. To have time to stop and smell the roses.
And write.
I am waiting.
When things are meant for me, they just fall on my lap. Let’s see what happens.
I’m back to sewing masks. I think we will soon run out of Greek letters to distinguish each SARS-COV-2 variant that keeps popping up every month. We now have Lambda, which was first detected in Peru and has now infiltrated 30 countries. So the future masks that I will finish would have a long time of service, unfortunately.
Today was a bit terrible. That interview I did at 5 pm got me triggered. The interviewee was nice and all, nothing was wrong with him and I got everything I needed for a story but at the same time he was all wrong. Very wrong.
He was same age as J, from J’s country of birth (when I thought my interviewee was from somewhere else), migrated to the same country where J migrated at a young age too. Same state and same city. He was relating his history because I asked why he built up his company in this particular segment. Then he told the same backstory of being compared to the neighbor academically, strict upbringing, going to xxx university for pre-med but dropped to go into military. Had a younger brother who went into law school but ended up in MIT. The two of them formed a company in Asia, sold it to a PE and the proceeds allowed them to run a family office investing in two sectors and then they also founded another start-up and now doing a capital growth fundraise. That’s how I ended up interviewing him.
He was so talkative that in 1.5 hrs he already related his political views and the racism he experienced growing up in the same city as J. He said stones were thrown at him when he was a kid and was often told to go home to China. He said, “I shot back and said I am not Chinese, I am xxx and I live in this country.” He said the same thing as J said, that Asians are invisible and are at the bottom rung when it comes to large ethnic groups.
Just as I was getting successful in forgetting and moving on, I suddenly slipped and fell and was back to square one. This interview triggered the memories of J telling me all those stories. Of memories of J.
Stop it. He has forgotten about you. He doesn’t like you. He lied to you about many things. He took you for an idiot. He’s a terrible person. Don’t go back into that dark pit again. Just stop.
So now I’m back to sewing while watching/listening to Youtube to take my mind off everything. I wish I can hold the fort and not crumble.
It is a heavy Monday. I was drowning in work. I again forgot to have lunch and only remembered to eat at 3 pm.
Then I said goodbye to a friend and colleague who has begun sleeping to never wake up.
How do you say goodbye to someone who is dying? What do you say? I was at a loss for words but I knew I needed to say something. His family says he still can hear as hearing is the last of the senses to go before one crosses the rainbow.
So we sent our recorded voice messages via FB Messenger or email. I told him I hope he realizes how much we love him and appreciate how he touched our lives. That I know he will continue fighting for our rights as journalists, as human beings. That he shouldn’t worry because we will carry the torch after he moves on, that we will fight his fight, that the fight will continue.
I always jokingly post on FB that I need him to keep me company trolling the trolls on Twitter.
I told him I hope he is no longer hurting and that he is happy with what he has now and what he has accomplished.
