Introvert’s Regress

                If you've never walked away from anything, you wouldn't know how good it feels. The best things in life are short, they must be savored.

               These days, I’m a very light sleeper. Even the faint sound of the door creaking can stir me awake no matter how late I fall asleep. There’s no need for alarm clocks. I’m up the moment somebody else rises from their bed and walks down the stair case to make breakfast. You can count in my mom’s hair dryer, the TV, speeding cars, and the neighbor’s caffeine infused chit-chats to wake me. Of course, I usually feign sleep so I won’t have to get up right away. I prefer skipping mornings. And lately, I don’t feel like talking to anyone. I don’t want to think about anything.

                This morning was different: my cellphone alarmed, or so I thought. It took a while for me to realize somebody was calling at 6AM. I thought what now? When I answered the call, I heard Jun grumbling just like the night before. The first call lasted a minute; I didn’t understand what the hell he was saying. His voice was stiff, languid, he sounded perfectly spent. Jun didn’t seem to have slept. After a few minutes, he called again. That’s when the gravity of the situation hit me: His recent ex-girlfriend, my close friend Tina, was threatening to kill herself if he didn’t take her back. Something inside me knew that call was coming. It was inevitable. Unsettling as it was, it didn’t keep me from staying under the sheets. I slept again right after dealing with the call. 

Yesterday, however, I decided to: 1) wake up 2) go out.

Morning Kinks

               

                Well, okay. I didn’t wake up that early, I still pretended to sleep. I woke with that morning after feeling wet and tender down there. It was a cozy morning, my head was light. I quite enjoyed lingering in my sheets fantasizing about what goes inside private rooms when two people are left alone together while others outside aren’t watching, or when two people get it on while a pair of stealthy eyes can see them. I guess I dreamt of that, I just tend to forget. I’m not sure whether I’m the voyeur or the one indulging with another body in the dream. In any case, I thought I had a pleasant morning.

                I sipped dark coffee and played 1979 by Smashing Pumpkins on my laptop. One might think it dreary to hear a song about being in a land of a thousand guilts so early into the day, but it was frankly reassuring. It’s exactly how I’d describe coming of age if I had to sing about that threshold. When you've withdrawn long enough from the world outside, coming back to reality feels like being born. This day was one of them.


             I logged into my account and made an effort to validate my existence by making a human connection. I decided to leave him a message. I didn’t think he’d reply. At first, we talked about rooms. Then, he asked about this film.

Have you seen Closer?

Yes, back in college. I liked that movie.

I did too. It was straight up, frank and complicated.

Yes, it absolutely was. I bet you can relate?

Haha. Yes, Jude Law’s character was so much like me.

Oh, but out of all the characters, he was most cheated. Guess which character resembles me? Julia or Natalie?

Yeah, well that’s exactly how I ended up. Hmmm. I’m not sure, but I think you’re more like Natalie.

You got it, I’m more of a Natalie. But I didn’t like her character at all in the film, she was so fucking vile.

Hahaha. But that’s why I loved her more.

                Then, we talked about old photographs and our desired hair length when it comes to the opposite sex. I believe we both agreed that long hair is definitely sexier. But as always, these innuendos and impish exchanges had to stop somewhere to be continued some other time. I logged out and went to take a shower. I had plans to go out.

The Hasty Aspiring Proletarian/Capitalist

                I’ve been looking for part-time work that can accommodate my schedule. Because I’ve three hour classes from Tuesday to Thursday, finding one that I could commit to proved challenging. A good friend of mine sent a link to a part-time advertising position—that’s what the ad said. I gave it a shot. At first, I thought it odd that I should text professional information to apply. They didn’t even ask for a resume. But then, the contact called me on the same day I texted and told me to come for an interview that Friday, 1PM to be exact. After weeks of searching, a company was finally willing to give me the time of day. This was the first reason why I wanted to go out: I wanted a job. Hell, I needed a job. I was dead broke.

                  So, let's pop the bubble. Shall we?

                To say I was disappointment was an understatement. I was appalled, truth be told, at how shady and misleading that online ad was. The contact made it seem like I’m going to be interviewed for a promising part-time position in a competitive industry only to later find out that it wasn’t an advertising company at all. I was hoodwinked into attending an orientation to join a 'network' which made profit by selling beauty and wellness products such as Glutathione, L-Carnitine, etc. Now, before I’m passed-off as a condescending bitch that looks down on sales and marketing jobs, I just have to say that’s not what I’m so furious about. In all honesty, I admire people who thrive in that kind of industry because I don’t exactly have the guts for it. It is not an easy job. I am mainly frustrated by the fact that somebody just had to place a fake online ad for a job opening just to have people join their group. This is a registered legal networking group which unfortunately recruits people in (I can almost imagine) every misleading way. I know they could encourage others to join in a legitimate manner, but I guess honesty wouldn't scoop much money. It felt like using your family, friends and unsuspecting students as opportunities to obtain profit. I may have been quite a liar/manipulator, but it doesn't mean I can do this kind of work. It's outright capitalism and I'm just not the right person to do it.  

               

                They had us ‘fresh recruits’ locked in listening to this awe-inspiring orientation of success stories all thanks to their commitment to networking. I was really convinced; I believed I could do it too. At first, they laid out all the benefits you can get when you join: free modeling, acting, dance, and photography workshops. You can even get a chance to become the image model for the products they sell. None of that appealed to me, except for photography classes. They presented incentives like trips abroad so members will be encouraged to sell more products and recruit more people. The list of reasons why you should invest went on for two hours. 

Eventually, all the hyped materialism drizzled and the ‘show’ shifted to appeal to our dispositions. They marketed this networking thing as an actual solution to the labor crisis: they claim that networking is a lucrative industry which garners massive profit in the long run. It's a business where in you invest small capital and earn profit exponentially as long as you stay. Because nurses can’t find jobs in the country and abroad, students that graduate with professional degrees end up working for call centers because many employers give very low compensation, networking, they say, is the best thing to do in order to have a stable life and "reach your dreams". They went as far as stressing the reality that, on average, if your salary as a professional is Php 30,000 a month; it would take you over ten years to save at least two million pesos. In networking, they explained how pyramiding profits you exponentially when you encourage more people to join so you can earn a million pesos in a span of two years. Worst case scenario, they said, would be for you to earn just Php 60,000/month (that’s Php15,000/week). Now, tell me, who wouldn’t be enticed? That afternoon was all about the money. However, the real question is whether networking is a life-long career that someone can do. Personally, maybe it is, but you can't force it on people. Those who aren't sure of their place and join these groups eventually leave to pursue more definitive career paths. This just isn't for everyone. 

               

                The most stupid thing about it, and I confess, is that I was driven to invest in this kind of shady business because it can reap huge profit in the long run. Yes,  I spent most of my savings thinking I can do sales work and eventually earn more than enough to support my matriculation every semester and, of course, be a little bit more useful to my folks. I went home and realized that kind of work really isn’t my cup of whatever beverage I feel like sipping. I’ve proven it twice, social situations strain me. I didn’t last long enough in PR or media, so I wondered what made me think I’d make a career out of persuading people to purchase unwanted and unnecessary beauty products.     

                I told my friend Jessie that I’d rather wait on tables at a small café or teach English to Koreans than sell those things. I'm more of a focused worker. I also spoke to Michael about my anxiety over having realized that I made a hasty decision with more long-term detrimental consequences than profit. 


                Direct selling and networking is much like talking to clients in a call center, the only difference is that you meet the client face to face. I just didn’t have it in me. If I do this, it would defeat the purpose of having left my previous job in a call center. I’ve said it dozens of times, and I’ll say it again. I am not the type of person who thrives in that kind of industry. I am severely socially awkward, but I know I can find other jobs that will better suit me while I'm trying to get my degree.

            What's the idea of a society that gets richer and richer when it doesn't make anyone happier? -- Lars Von Trier, 'The Idiots'

               

           This, after nearly a year of removal, is exactly what happens when I attempt to inhabit reality. At the end of the day, I chose to remain in my fishbowl, for the time being. The world outside is a crowded aquarium, and everyone needs to swim because only the dead float. In reality, we all swim in our own excrement. But I’m not confronting all that shit just yet. No. I don't think I'll be waking soon.


           I made a mistake, again. This time, I’m coming out. A bit sorry, yes, but I'm still walking away. I’m just walking away to move on.