A trun for the worse? Try triple lockdown

 Solutions are a-plenty, especially if you listen to advise. But, there is a lot of advice flying about, and ultimately, it will dictate your life. During these times, our pandemic days and night, we are, in more ways than one, on a lockdown. 

An intense discussion with those who are poor reveals more about the lockdown that many will understand. Some get bored, some want their routine back, others bewail their misfortune, while there are those that thrive. There are those who survive, and then, what was highlighted, during a discussion, was hunger. 

It is ok if the children are kept at home as long as they have food. 

I often think of the good old days in the terms of pre-pandemic. It was the time that we could travel without concerns about getting ill and how my grandchild used to attend events with me. It was fun, how I would go out and made a strong circle of blogging friends. 

Convo recalled:

You hang out and gossip? 
We don't have time to gossip as we are busy at the event and looking for more events. 
You mean you don't discuss such things, like about your neighbors, family, and friends? 
Sometimes, when it is very important, just to vent. 
So what do you talk about? 
Food, blogging, our tokens, next event. 
You don't talk about other people?
Of course, we do, but it is information sharing, not gossip. 

That was not so long ago, but it seem so long ago. 
Moving forward, moving on. Move on. 

The stagnant days though lovely, were tasked to be a routine. A routine that has fulfillment, yet the time spend was golden, in many ways, such as treasured memories. However, there has to be progress? Nope... there has to be no regress? Maybe. There are moments that to try to reach out in understanding makes it sad to think about the mess, the sadness, the insecurity, and the hurt left behind... but then again, it might be a figment of imagination or wishful thinking, or perhaps, the limitations. We make excuses. 

Love makes excuses. 
Love is forgiving. 
Love does not seek to hurt. 

So much falls into the category of love, try a triple lockdown. 

Sacrifice so others can stand. That lockdown the budget. 
Stay at home, voluntarily. That is the anti-virus lockdown. 
Make a commitment. Another lockdown. 
So what is so wrong about being locked down? 

Freedom. Lack of freedom. But take note, even when there is freedom and there is that hunger, then, it is a lockdown on its own. 

Here I go again, writing to make myself cry. As the index cards of my mind have files that fly, joining the bits and pieces, the warmth of this hoodie during this cool January morning and the quiet makes me like the lockdown, as I am a writer. 

So there are unpublished books that I have, and what to do with them, I do not know. The net is flooded with books. Applied for work, got approved for one while waiting for other responses. Is that really what I want? I need to earn. 

What did I get myself into? Do I not learn from the past? It wiped me out then, and now. I didn't need a crisis, I didn't need a pandemic, I didn't need for a lockdown to happen to get into the point in time of yesterday. It's ok to be locked down as long as there is food. The choices I had to make, to budget, while listening. What makes my life change? What made my life change? Decisions. 

There can be no... kindness. That is the part that hurts. A plea to a blank wall is not heeded at all. So, it goes on, and on, and on, and forgiveness is a must. Yet, it is a triple lockdown. Coming to the point of being alone, afraid, and cold, what is there to hold on to? It's like... a little bit of this and that. Squat. It's what the squat and yes, I ain't falling for those lines again, but live through it, even if it hurts. 

We all have our moments that we throw in the towel. I have, I have, before Christmas. It comes with not the realization, as that is already there, but the acceptance that... they really don't care. So the memories become kind, eliminating the hurtful parts, as I walk around the room, thinking, it is but a sigh. 

Who am I?

Perhaps, I delude myself that I am vital in their lives, and maybe a dog would have better and more consistent care, surely I would prefer to be a dog. Neglect, it is that. It is the holding out. I know, but then, as I assess whatever it is that troubles me, it is... not a lack of trust but knowing that things are just the way they are. 

Let me put you on hold. 
The operator is still busy on the other line. 

So I lay down ill. Quiet. Went through it./My pants are so loose, it's the Filipino pandemic weight-loss program wherein we are one, trying to save on food. 

Trust me. 

One of the most difficult things is to dwindle. To ever think that it could be killing me, and so it had happened. I had to stand up and it was difficult, as I was getting pulled down. I could not handle it. So, there are long-term effects. Yet, we move on, forgive, and go on and on and on. 

Life is like that. Things happen. 

The drudgery that is a tradgedy: life-changing is not going to happen, right?

We live for certain days when all is nice and perfect but during these pandemic times, those days are few and far between. Still, there are good days that happen and there are moments that take our breath away, and we become overwhelmed with delight and gratitude. 

Don't ask as the answer will be no 

Perhaps during the various stages of this crisis, the worst has happened when I simply followed. There is no one to blame but myself as we do have uncertain times and nothing is written in stone. Faith, hope, and believing all meltdown into one fabulous package. Still, the trust is there, no matter what the fails. Releasing such things brings about a lightness of feeling and as much as we have experienced also being rejected and scorned when we are down and out, other people can feel that also. So, just be nice and steady, as that is the way the cookie crumbles. 

Yet, in turning around and being stuck in a situation, beseeching for help is difficult. There are some that are easy to talk to while others that we dare not even ask. At what point in time does it turn into a demand? At what point in time will a person become a nag?

When needs are not met, it is natural to look somewhere else. 

Why is it like that? I guess... I triggered off someone by saying, hello, I don't see the sacrifice. Why does it have to be me to sacrifice.. so I have wonderful Facebook posts and seem like it is a grand life, and yet I withered away, dragging myself up from self-pity as there is hardly any pity left in the hearts of those who must be there but aren't really there. It pains me, yet, do not ask as the answer will be no, as truly, there is minimal care, and it's like a bad joke, you know, and no one is laughing. 

The past two days have brought about a rise in... shall I say, interest? Why is it like that? Is it the cold weather with Valentine's just around the corner? I get a message demanding my reason... Bump into someone and get a play... Please, not my cup of tea, not him, and not with me. I would rather watch CNN. The most hilarious was the evasive move of a bee-factor, in a hurried attempt not to cross my path. Why, what did I do? I am not guilty or whatever is going through the radical mind, it doesn't matter coz I am not interested, either. 

Haven't been going to that area, but I had to do so today. The last time I went there it was much more pleasant, as I got to talk to the ones that I wanted to, and it was pleasant exchanges. Geez, this New Year seems to throw a wrench in things, but then, I step back and breathe. It has been difficult, far more difficult than I have ever experienced before. There are limitations that I have such as my arm aching, and I simply accepted the change and move my thumb, and cringed in pain. I was clogged up with a bad amount of phlegm, as it has been cold, and didn't tell a soul until I pulled myself out. I couldn't lie down on my back, and that has changed after a grueling sleepless night. 

Pleasant days 

Then, those pleasant days that could be as simple as my grandchild dropping by, and my dog learning how to poop on the bathroom floor and finally eating dog food, coz it was gourmet, and she only likes gourmet dog food. oh yes... simple thing and wonderful things and more, that keep me going. 

As I contemplate on going to a utility company tomorrow, it is not easy to decide. Budget wise, I would be hanging on a limb, but my concern that I have to fix is making me hang on a noose. I dread the cold morning and the time that I would have to leave. I dread it yet dread the consequences, even more, still I hesitate. 

With the acceptance that all things hoped for are just that, and those rose-colored glasses have already fallen to the bottom of a river, there are still pleasant days, and I am grateful. Life-changing isn't going to happen until we release whatever restrictions we have in our mind, and actually see that the limitations that are not physical is what we bind as our limitations. 

There is no transalation of the word 'pahamak'

 

Mindfulness and what breaks the camel's back. 

It isn't the straw, but the number of straws piled on top. At what point is it too much? Lay it on with inconsideration while their lives get better in their narcissistic ways.

This is the point when it is too much. 

When I drop and make the statement, and already know that I have been used again. I guess love will constantly make excuses and go on to forgive when no forgiveness is asked. 

Perhaps the painful lessons that we learn in life include caring for others. In the various roles that we play, some entail sacrifice. Asking for what the needs are, demanding for fairness, is ignored, in mindless ways due to entitlement. To make it more difficult, the path leads to more difficulty, and when the person saves themselves, it's an RPG game of left for dead. |

The bitterness turns into letting go. Throwing the towel in, have a good life. Go and pursue your dreams, and I will not be part of it, as there is that ever-present feeling and knowing that na-pahamak ako. 

Pahamak has no direct translation in the English language. It is not sabotage, nor all the other translated words. The closest that it could mean is that a person got in trouble due to another one by following them or rescuing them. Such is the stuff that heroes are made of, in saving others, they lose their life. Such is what builds character, as deliberate or not, when stepping on others to uplift themselves, the golden rule is ignored. 

There are concerns, and all have them. Unkindness is the thing that happens when others need help. But mindfulness is necessary to keep in mind that perhaps, without pride, with all humility, the reason why a person is in trouble could be our fault. It reminds me of this mother that fed her child cake and Coke to fatten her up and the child developed juvenile diabetes. 

For all the good that we do, it does work. When the person is able to be in a better position, just throw in the towel, ask for nothing, do nothing, as it is useless. They could have done so out of desperation, could have kept themselves entertained, and lack mindfulness. Will it happen again? 

Like the child that ate the cake and Coke her mother gave her, it is due to trust. One thing that we can trust is that people will fail us, but God never fails. It could be an echo of guilt, of fond remembrance, perhaps even pity for the person that they trampled on as they turn to be there during their better days, and it is with disdain, advice, and all those things that are not nice.

It hurts. It hurts to be here. I don't hope, as today, it is clear. 

Growing more than plants during this the pandemic year of my life

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It has nearly been a year since the lockdown. Time has passed by with moments filled with one chat mate having nearly 5 thousand messages. I was taken aback. Then, the days are filled with gardening and the nights include observing how cuttings grow. 

Only during the crisis did I ever pay attention to our yucca plants. And, a lot of changes have happened in the year past, like my grandchildren moving out, and I feel a lot older, sometimes sadder, at times, happier. But, the ever-present danger of contracting the virus bears heavily on my mind. 

As today I venture back into writing, it is the right thing to do. Gardening does have benefits and makes me earn, and so does cooking and baking, but writing does hurt my arm. As I looked for writing samples, I stumbled upon a completed e-book of mine, and a few more, well a lot more articles and ebooks that are tucked away in my yahoo mail. 

Growing plants is not an overnight thing and nor is writing. I have neglected my blog, seldom posting my thoughts as sometimes it affects people adversely. But, it is writing... just thoughts, emotions, feelings, all in words to weave the pattern.. 

Here I go again drifting. Today started off with worries, as usual. It is not very easy on me but I am trying. God provides yet, I do have to go back to writing as I cannot burden others, and even if I will use a brace again, during this pandemic mess, life leaves us limited choices. 

Today I was given plants and overwhelmingly wonderful ones. Gardening is one thing I like doing, and yes, will continue... writing is one thing I love and it is what I am, aside from the many hats that I wear, on various occasions. Woke up at dawn. Had a long nap, and now, it is back to the drudgery of creating web content which is vital in today's world, which is mostly online. 

The pandemic strife and wanting the samgyup life back

As the prices of fresh food escalate in the groceries, I make it a point to go to the market as often as possible. It's a bit further from home and entails quite a bit of a trek for me to get to buy my other requirements like medicine, but with the savings obtained from buying meat like beef, and basic essentials like onions, it is well worth it. The prices at the grocery make fresh fruits burn a hole in the pocket and rather than spend exorbitant amounts on a bunch of bananas, I prefer not to buy there. But the comfort level of going to the grocery is surely an advantage for me but trained to be frugal by default, it is off to the market for me. 

A trip to the market 

It was the day after Christmas. I watched as a lonely calamansi rolls off the vendor's stand, and walk by to see the overflowing produce, left unsold even if it is late in the afternoon. It's a frogger game to move about in the sidewalk, evading potential virus-laden people who might be positive but we have come to the point of not caring at all. Moving on with a mask and a face shield that is propped up on the head like a cap, unbreathable air quality, not due to the usual market smell but because of the virus. 

Where is the fear? 

It does not exist. Driven by hunger, and yes, that is the reason. It's a common sight, those pandemic sad eyes, the no staring at the face, the slow walk, and then, when even the fat has visibly lost weight. So many thin people, haggard, as the sword of Damocles hangs over our head and then the impending electricity bills that have made the whole country become more upset when the bills were computed incorrectly. So, it is January, and the bills have to be paid, and good news comes that there is a refund based on overcharging since 2017 - which is then swept away and brings us down much lower to find out that the evilness of the Meralco includes us having to pay for being undercharged for another section and it will cost more. 

Driven by hunger. 

Driven by cravings. Strife brings about wanting to eat well. It is ridiculous to think that we can eat a fiesta daily or that rich food is to be served on the table always. The pandemic has brought about the option to give up buying our favorite brands for the less expensive brand, or the same brand with the less expensive options. I did a line reduction from Gardenia classic to their NueBake, but it did not have the thickness I prefer, so I changed to buying their soft pandesal. Exploring other options suchs as from Purefoods to their Star brand is not for me, as I am accustomed to the distinct taste of Purefoods. However, it made me try Swifts, and it turned out to be quite good. 

Driven by cravings. 

Oh, what the samguypsal of the Koreans has done to us. It's the dream indulgence during the pandemic life. For that divine unlimited meal, samguyp is king. Hence, many a table had a cooker in the middle during Christmas and New Year, with their own version of DIY samgyup, and so did I and my daughter, who discovered that nearly all the veggies of samguyp have the same basic marinade which is composed of garlic, sesame seeds, sesame oil, and soy, so she made kangkong into a samgyup side dish. 

Driven by stock. 

This is, for me, the worst part of the pandemic life. Those summer days were the worst, and even now that it is crunch time, it is surely a horrible experience. When it was difficult to go into the grocery coz of the long lines and the limited capacity, it became not just panic buying but buying to not go back. Panic buying turned into another peg, like completing all that was on the list. Learning how to do without, maybe bread and opting for crackers instead was my adjustment, as the bread shelves would be either empty or you would be stuck with having to buy the most expensive kinds or brands that you don't want to eat.

Since before Christmas, with the difficulties that I have encountered, my kitchen has been driven by stock and I don't like it. Practicality has its limits and it's been too long since I have been alleviated from the rabbit hole I went into. So, I didn't buy ordinary soy sauces coz I have teriyaki, Korean soy, oyster sauce, and another kind of Korean sauce.. Adobo has changed its dimension? No, I didn't cook that. With a whole load of butter, I didn't buy oil but that also does not work for cooking some food items, so I use the grill, however, that also becomes lame. Turning again to making the undisputable major changes that drove me into a deep depression, so deep that I sold my Christmas tree and it made it become a pain relief, the changes addressed the survival mode, and my fitting into my favorite pair of pants again. 

How I wish there was a hotel event that I could go to. How I wish there was a tech event. How I wish that I could blog about restos again. So, I made my own food bit then, practicality and cooking for one made it an overflow that is impossible for me to like. From a pack of macaroni, I made two dishes, and ate that five times. I now hate macaroni. I bought ramen, and ate one pack three times, and now I balk at ramen. I have fish, and up to now, I am down to the last piece, same with hotdogs. Variety cost and I have to make it through until I find another source of income because I think I have been royally ripped off, but then, how can I squeeze blood from a stone?

This morning addresses a backtrack into the endearing days of my life. I woke up at dawn. In letting go, I do not turn rancid nor bitter. Having high expectations amounts to nothing but disappointment. Expecting value and fair treatment will ensure that it will not happen from no maintenance, especially from those who seek their luxurious level of life. Being meek is the solution, downtrodden as it may seem, even comparing the misfortune of others to mine provides no solace at all. Divine hurt is something that is placed in an index card of my mind, and as the illusion that there is not enough is waved, then I realize, that there will never be enough as even return is not possible when I am in need. 

Comes to light during this pandemic strife are the offerings that are made, some are real, some are delayed. Perhaps the truest one is from that one who has nothing at all, is wiped out, in the worst situation, and sacrificed to give me my Christmas. Then, there is the one that is there, who has the readiness peppered with curt advice and makes sure I don't drop. Then, the attorney that makes the effort to call me out of my stupor, knock on the door for me to move, and, yes, saved me from the major problems I am facing, and it isn't over yet.

Such is life, and taking the good with the bad in stride makes up for it, as my love makes excuses for others in my mind, making their failing me a matter of allowing them to do so, and accepting that it is the way it is. Everyone has their own beat and keeping expectations low means that there is no disappointment. Do the drop, it's a dance step in this rigodon of society that makes it necessary for many to have the utmost comforts of life, and achieving their peg for their own goals that means their success. 

As I will defrost the last piece of fish later, knowing that what I have on hand is from the value of a couple of people who struggle, it brings it all down to mindfulness. It's my best friend that tells me off and forcing me to accept a gift. It is my arm pain that is gone that I will bring back again. It's this blog post to drive me back to writing, as I have finished books that I have left unpublished, weighing if my life work of the culinary dictionary is to be a website, and if my guide to learning Tagalog should be an app. It's mindfulness, and I have been said to overthink, but it's the little things that count that make me go on from day to day. In my life, have closed a lot of doors, and in the lockdown mode, want sometimes to close more, except that there are some who need me in their lives.

When my depression hit, I wondered, is this being bipolar? Or is it the cutting edge of a knife? Stoic, only forcing myself to eat because of my dog who is accustomed to eating when I do. Turn and justifiably, I can point the blame, but it is useless to do so. Up to now, the many facets of pain, it still lingers in my mind. Will it be addressed by repeated words? Will it be addressed by strife? Will this pandemic ever be over? What I want... what I need. What do I have? 

A can of sardines that I refuse to open. I do not want to eat that. Ran out of dried fish in stock. A few eggs and my new recipe for flan. Some frozen food, and it is food stock. Too much ground coffee I do not drink, more tea than I will ever drink, and half a bottle of Soju. A lot of worries, so I started deep skin peeling my face, much to the horror of one daughter, but I reminded her that I had a skin peeling clinic before. Skin peeling is perfect during the pandemic, as I can wear a mask. Removing the wrinkles from my face, the open pores, the fine lines, and the sign of aging, as I cannot have my usual diamond peel done. 

Pandemic life. It's the world of DIY. It's budgeting, bartering, and smart purchasing. And, it is, right now, horrible life of strife, and I want my samguyp life back.