first week of work

So a lot of people heard that I was pretty anxious about going to work this week, anticipating the best or at least being motivated to do so. After the first week, I am finding it quite difficult to be there.

What we do is important, but as many of others in that position or similar roles, we don't get a lot of appreciation or perks. Trying to do things for the greater good is hard when people aren't treated like people. We are not machines, yet we're expected to act as perfectly as they do. We get no repairmen, we get no excuses, we are what you want to do, but not what you want us to be.

Who we are is not where we want to be. This is the basis, the fundamental reason why we grumble and take things hardly. This is why we reject your notions, this is why we rebel, this is why we occupy streets and other locations of high business density.

Tonight isn't the beginning of the war, and neither is it the end, but we're ready to fight it to the bitter end. It's bitter, cause it leaves a bad taste in our mouths and the tears, though salty, are also acrid by the skies you pollute.

Posted via email from Bloodscope Economics

Lost my phone

I started out Columbus Day weekend by losing my cell phone again. This time though I wasn't able to retrieve it from the MBTA. Instead, one of my friends told me that the person was from Roxbury and they wanted a reward. I thought about it for 2 days, having lived life off the grid but at the same time a bit worried that someone might have been called. On Monday, I decided to go get a new phone and not deal with this person.

Factors leading up to the decision:

1) I called my phone at least 10 times during the 2 day period at various times of the day, figuring I'd reach the person. No answers whatsoever, which was particularly odd because this person wanted a reward. How are you gonna get one if the owner can't contact you?

2) After getting a random text from someone, I returned a phone call and found out that random texts were being sent from my phone at the time. Why am I going to reward you for wasting my money without my permission?

3) This person's location, without much details and having some prior insight, dissuaded me from going there without having a backup plan.

As much as I wanted my classic crappy phone back with its numbers, I figure it wasn't worth the hassle to make up resources to get it back.

The whole ordeal got me thinking about understanding people from both ends, and our society as a whole today. Nowadays, where income is scarce, opportunity is rare, and anonymity is high, this would have been a prime time for said person. My wish is that this person would have gone through more noble means rather that through coercion - even if they were actually in need, they would have done better off by helping someone in the long term rather than satisfy their own temporal desires. People are short-sighted when there seems to be no end to a dream.

I realize that I desire items of nostalgia too much, and put too much faith in the hope that humanity can be redeemed. I also see that I am adventurous but at the same time a risk-taker, and that I need to be kept in check. Yet I still need someone to understand why I do the things I do. Above it all, my life now is spent trying to live outside of time, trying to encapsulate past, present and future into one movement.

Posted via email from Bloodscope Economics

reflections from Faneuil Hall

I took a stroll through Faneuil Hall after a job interview. I haven't done that for fun in a while, and it was the perfect time to do so, having went through a long week of disappointment. I remember an article on CNN about women, particularly teens, who were agonizing about their body size, trying to reach that magical number - size 0. Not actually knowing what a size 0 was or even looked like, I stopped by some of the retail stores in the area.

I first went to Ann Taylor, looking for something to compare to. They had it, but they also had an even smaller size called size 0 Petite, which is apparently for shorter women. It was on the second floor, so I decided to take a look. The size difference isn't that much greater, but what threw me for a loop was the mannequins. They say that petite is for shorter women, but the mannequins they used were for taller women.

I then stopped by Victoria's Secret and learned more about the fashions and functions of brassieres. What was weird was when I looked around the store - no woman's body shape looked even slightly similar to what the models presented on the window poster. I know that the fashion industry adopts an elitist standard, and that we shouldn't assume that what they advertise is the norm, but even still, most women and girls don't look like that unless they are naturally skinny, or even malnourished. 

As I sat down on a bench, eating my chicken salad sandwich, I look around and see people have given up on their lives. Perhaps not in the suicidal sense, but letting themselves go, physically and mentally. The same fashions, the same physiques, people falling into archetypes way too frequently.

I don't wonder anymore if money is the root of evil, nor its want even, but just people...

Posted via email from Bloodscope Economics

Funerals

First off, I'd like to thank Pastor Raymond Yeung. I went to his funeral today, not remembering who exactly he was until I saw his picture again. Because of him, my family is Christian. Without him, I might have became a Buddhist (and hooked up with someone) or practiced ancestor veneration (and hooked up with someone). I suppose that within the infinite wisdom and grace of God that things have happened the way they do. Also, if anyone knows the short version of my name, it'd just be weird if I weren't anyways.

As I went through the procession, I couldn't help but think why funerals hit the family so hard. I think it's because when you're at the cemetery and see the coffin right before it goes into the ground, that the realization hits. It is the realization that you'll actually see this person in your life for the last time. It's an odd feeling, but it comes from knowing that your life runs relatively stable, in the fact that the people you know age and work at the same pace as you. Even though you're 30-40-50, your friends and stuff will still feel like the same things grew up with, but never really left.

It's also hard on the family because there will be a physical emptiness, a void left to be filled. The dinner table chair, the barcalounger at home, the one less voice you hear - all reminders that indeed life is gone. It's funny how we mourn and are joyful at the same time, having believed that though the person is physically gone, the spirit has gone to a better place, one without pain, persecution, strife and struggle, and in that the next life lies infinitely greater pleasure. Still, it doesn't erase the feeling of pain, especially when we focus on the real aspects of the loss versus the big picture.

Two people take care of my brother's gravestone. Both question who does the work while the other is absent. I try not to answer the question, because it would only create a tension that distracts from the real issue. It's sad that it's come to a point where both parties think they're speaking for the best of the deceased, when in actuality he doesn't have a voice, per se in how his own memorial ought to be treated. The greater issue is whether or not people can still work together.

Posted via email from Bloodscope Economics

Who says hello anymore? I do.

To that girl who ignored me this week, it's alright. People got things to do, places to go, people to see. I know I did - that's why I had a Choco Taco for free.

It's been a while since I last blogged. It's not that I haven't found the motivation, or a lack of content to write about. Quite the contrary, a lot has been on my mind for the past couple of months. Work, relationships, money, future, and the past have all played a factor as to what I've been doing today. However, a little birdie brought me to write this particular post, one about keeping things in perspective.

Blogging is my haven. It's my venting ground, my announcement board, my soap box, my diary. It's entertainment, philosophy, comedy, sadness. It's unedited, non-sequential and from the heart. It's me and myself. Nowadays, blogging has become more of a business, rather than a method of personal expression. Businesses have blogs, movements have blogs,  even imaginary characters have them. Why must you not be yourself in order to sell something? Why must you go out of your way, to be unnatural, to set up an adventure, to advertise an activity, to push your next product?

Putting up the facade over the internet is easy. Sure we've found ways to cyber-stalk, and generally find out more information about others, but on the whole, people can still remain anonymous. Internet chat rooms of debauchery and hatred, Xbox Live where absurdity blossoms, and yes, Nigerians can still scam your dollars away.

We can advertise all the good things in our life, in order to be a bastion of hope or a boat of boastfulness. We can push all the sadness into the light as a cry for help, a suicide call, an attempt to cure human loneliness.

I wonder now if I had no face - could someone go through life without a physical identity? Even the lack of identity now can be considered one, but with the lines blurring where life imitates are and vice-versa, is it really possible?

Nevertheless, it's important to be yourself, in whatever capacity that means to you. The sheer overwhelming number of societal elements doesn't mean you need them to function - why must you iPhone it? Why must you identify with this major group?

My life goal of fading away into legendary obscurity is slowly happening.

Posted via email from Bloodscope Economics

I'm saving lives by using Microsoft Excel and the internet.

So ends the first week of work. It's been a huge transition, from when before, i had mad time to read and get in shape, to now when I'm scrambling to read articles and wash the dishes before a proper bedtime. It's not the life I envisioned at this point-figured I'd be dead by now, having done some stupid motorcycle stunt. Thanks Pops, your current life has saved mine.

Having read the job description, I came in with high hopes about a proactive position, where I'd be running around, everything fast-paced, people-oriented, meeting with the big wigs. Expectations are a funny thing if you have none, or the improper ones.

Work right now is pretty slow. The typical day involves staring at a computer, cracking jokes, and taking long lunches. Every once in a hour, I'll ask about my assignment or take long walks down the corridor to my private sanctuary with the white throne. With the sun being out now, there's even more of an incentive to escape the solitary cube.

I'm not sure how I feel about this place. Though it's only temporary, the comforts are there. The long-term of the position as a possibility has me wondering which direction this would lead me in the next five years. I suppose it falls into my general goal of wanting to help people, but it hasn't solidified itself in a specific action or working.

Why, I don't know. All too often, I wish to remain unattached, no allegiances to anything, having allies in all departments, being a jack of all trades instead of a one trade shovel. Professional development never really crossed my mind, and if it ever did, I never found it all that important. Life will find a way (provided people understand the human nature of the work, rather than the mere acts of finishing assignments.)

At the end, I know I'm not going to be rich. It'd be nice, but I wouldn't want it to be mine. I'm going to still continue to work hard though so that others are going to enjoy this life instead. Having really no other motivation but to "do it for the people", I dredge forth, knowing that I'm a part of something bigger.

Knowing that I won't understand the grander picture yet, only hoping now to blur myself into the lines. 

Posted via email from Bloodscope Economics

i have nothing to say

i'm not a hero, but i'll come to your aid.

i'm not a villain, but i can make you afraid.

i'm not a lion, but i got strength in my heart.

i'm not a mouse, but i sneak in the dark.

i'm not a leader, but i can guide you the way.

i'm not a follower, but i'll hear what you say.

i'm not a genius, but i'm deep into thought.

i'm not a dummy, but i'm always being taught.

at the end of the day, we're all thankful that we're not something, and grateful that we are something else. 

Posted via email from Bloodscope Economics