Brown is my New Black

I was dressed all in black, as if something inside me knew that some force in alliance with darkness will engulf me later that day.

I constantly looked for signs…

I pondered the date in terms of numerology and thought what’s wrong with today being the 20th of June (going 21st, as it was around midnight)?

My last post on Twitter that afternoon read “Sad”. Was it my subconscious dropping a hint?

And then on the farthest side of my brain — the part I try to safeguard from the world gone creepy — I thought of my family. I found my heart on the ground.

The manifestations of my Denial, as the first stage of grief, continued to surface when I lay down flat on bed, my view was a wall clock. Seconds ticked by along with my thoughts drifting somewhere between physical and metaphysical planes. It was the longest 15 minutes of my life. I shunned the physical need to pee or take sustenance. The numbing shock is what held me together. I was immobile, having thoughts about the things I should’ve said during defense.

When I get up, It was only to lay back down again because I didn’t feel like I was myself. My head (or my eyes) was throbbing. I was staring but can’t see anything. And then once more, the scene re-appeared in my head in a form of a voice bearing the sad news.

I felt violated, to be honest. I didn’t see it coming.

But I stopped fighting the battle since the time it occurred to me that they have gone myopic to not to see efforts and hard works.
I stopped fighting when I started to see inconsistencies, which they always advise to raise but nothing really happens, in my opinion (as the observer type).
I stopped fighting when the advancements were given to those who weren’t laudable enough — the operative word is enough.

I won’t pursue that kind of battle. They are so into systems and cringe over anything that could intimidate productivity, neglecting superior forms of judgment (or setting reasonable threshold) and furthering analysis to understand situations. No one advocated for me but myself. What hurts the most? I thought I have already secured a sturdy place ample to NOT worry about breaking. Maybe it wasn’t tenacious enough, not sticky enough, what’s a better term, clingy? I wasn’t gooey enough to be kept in a herd. A herd of sheep with a master who plays preferential treatment to few. Oh you can’t deny anomalies in any organization! I have come to terms with the fact that life is unfair.

I’ve forgiven before I even entertain Anger — it’s more pain. (I could put a lot of things right here but it will most likely led to Anger). When you forgive, you think about all the good things someone has done to you, right? I wish they had this heart too when they let their 1% humanity play a chunk on the discussion. Or simply put, compromise. Is that me Bargaining? But in a system of rules (and with the already made up minds), overturn is not likely. So I guess that puts me into the Depression stage (i thought it’s worse to get dumped). In my opinion, this is the stage where you experience being in and out of all the other stages. And it is also a (sad) Reflection, which is taking over me.

This morning, I can’t remember the last time looking at the morning sky the same way I looked at it today. Others can start feeling guilty about themselves — those who hid dirt under the rag, those who didn’t pay their debts, those who abuse their powers, the cheaters, swindlers…

So i guess, in the end, what’s left is just myself and the quality and richness of my exposure. I have learned so many things and became so many kinds of leader. Year to date, if I’m gonna do the math, there were 33,120 cases I handled (if i were to use 18 as the average case in a day, within 7 years and 8 months). I helped people by making things happen, playing as a liaison to make (sometimes even the impossible) things happen! To the many internal people too, whom I affected in ways only them can describe, seeing them grow and/or move to different divisions is my biggest pride. My heart is stout to see them progress. Finally (tears here), i have met a few who became good friends.

I’m treating myself right (my integrity is intact), hoping for a more organized me as i undergo a “reconstructing”. (That’s me trying to be positive while i further torture myself with, um, er, Boyz II Men music. And that’s OK.) One of my favorite quotes about pain is it is made to be felt. It demands to be felt.

Dear Acceptance, don’t play hard to get. Dawn on me.