In An Icebox

This is not a love story.


*Hum*
I got this icebox where my heart used to be.
As the song goes.
I'm so cold, I'm so cold, I'm so cold.
Am I?
Landscapes and sceneries pass by the window as the bus hits 60. Life stirs, unknowingly through each set of eyes that stares at the window. Then I heard the song.
I got this icebox where my heart used to be. It still is. Then my life started to take a backtrack.


The day started like any day I get up and go to work at Ivy League Writing Consultany, Inc. in Tomas Morato, QC as a writer. Like any day, I start it with a somewhat tire-heaved smile (?). Then it hits me like a backhoe would... I didn't make it to Singapore. The heartache of it, as it turned out, was deeper that I intially thought. For the past two months, somehow, my current job had taken a bad turn. I started to get tired easily and as a result, I wasn't able to write well enough, according to Ivy League standards (honestly, according to me too!). I knew I wasn't doing well at work anymore. Not unlike with my first few months when everythng was so promising. I have been dubbed as the "IT specialist" because of the topics I have been handling. And then I was nominated as Writer of the Month for the prolific writing (*sob* but I never got to earn an award, but hey! Being in the list was well enough!). Really promising. But I got bad. Soon after learning I wasn't going to Singapore anymore (no need to elaborate on that as I have previously informed you all about it).


Bad write ups = termination from Ivy League job. Another disaster. Another heartache on top of the other. But I wasn't admiting I have been defeated. I tried. For a week or so. And then I collapsed. I told myself I will never be a writer again! Something that is entirely a sin itself. I have been writing since highschool. In college, I was the editor for our school paper. Handling the News and Features sections of Meralco Foundation Institute's The Keystone. But did it matter? Nope, none of that ever mattered. I told myself maybe Sir Tony was right, I might as well work for some other job that could suit my talents, which is not writing. I was doomed.


A week passed. All those days I was pretending it never mattered to me. But actually it did. A lot.


And then Manila Bulletin called. Oh, btw, I applied for another writer job a week before I was terminated. I got through the exam and the interview. Whew! Then life started to take on a new light. Finally! MANILA BULLETIN says it all. My talents weren't going to waste after all. But they said they'd get back at me...


And so another writing job came (I'd better not disclose, sorry). I was so eager to have a job and get back on my feet that I told this new company that I was terminated from my previous job. I decided to be honest with them. It'll be out soon anyway. Thank God, it worked. Somehow, they liked my impromptu articles. I guess all the hardships paid off! I was hired three days after and just last week, I was ranked #1 (tied with another co-worker) among the new writers. My heart was leaping for joy.


Then another heartache came... Manila Bulletin called. My dad, for some reason I cannot explain, forgot to tell me about it. Two days passed. I tried to call them but to no avail. They gave the job to someone else. *sigh* I am so f*cked up. I guess that's life. You cannot have everything!


*Hum*
I got this icebox where my heart used to be.
As the song goes.
I'm so cold, I'm so cold, I'm so cold.
Am I?
No, like the Spartans, I feel no pain or emotion anymore. Heartaches? They mean nothing to me. From now on, if you feel pain... If you feel like the world had stumbled upon you, DON'T. Think about all those people who have bigger problems than what you have.


As for me, I'm keeping my heart in an icebox. In there, it'll be numb. In there, it'll feel no emotion...