Damned In Blue

I started 2024 with a simple idea - writing down three things I'm grateful for each week. After a rough 2023 that hit my business hard, I needed to find my footing again. It seemed like a good way to reset and appreciate what I had. At first, it was easy. My kids topped the list every time - they're my world, after all. I wrote about my job, the chances life gave me, the small wins along the way. But something weird started happening as the weeks went by. The same things kept showing up in my journal.  Don't get me wrong - I love my kids just as much as ever, but writing it down week after week started feeling like going through the motions. You know how when you say a word over and over, it starts losing its meaning? That's what happened with my gratitude practice. The feelings were still there, but the words felt empty. I was stuck in a loop, grateful for the same things every week, and it started to feel pointless. Then a few weeks ago, it clicked. The problem wasn...

I used to hide behind labels. You know the type - those neat little boxes we put ourselves in to make sense of who we are. For me, it was being "introverted." Sure, I prefer my own space and don't naturally gravitate toward big social gatherings. But I've learned that clinging to these labels can hold us back from experiencing life fully. Let me tell you about a turning point in my journey. It was November 2019, and I found myself in Chiang Mai, Thailand, for an SEO conference. I didn't choose to go - as part of the sponsoring team, I had to be there. My first instinct? Pure resistance. The thought of networking with hundreds of strangers made my stomach churn. But here's the thing about comfort zones - they're more like prisons when we let them control our choices. Standing in that conference hall, surrounded by people I'd only known through usernames and forum posts, something unexpected happened. I started talking. First to one person, then another...

L et me tell you about the hardest lesson I've learned as a freelancer: stopping the endless cycle of comparing myself to others.  It's not the late-night client emails or the feast-or-famine income that keeps me up at night. It's those moments when I'm scrolling through LinkedIn or chatting in freelancer groups, seeing others land massive clients or post about their six-figure months. I catch myself doing it almost automatically. Sarah just landed that dream client I pitched to last month. Mike's posting about his best quarter ever. And here I am, staring at my own modest wins, feeling like they're suddenly not enough. The thoughts creep in: "I know I'm good at what I do. So why aren't I there yet?" Last week, I found myself spiraling after seeing a freelancer with half my experience charging double my rates. I started questioning everything - my skills, my pricing, my entire approach to freelancing. The worst part? I was actually having a goo...

I never expected to find life lessons while watching cartoons with my 7-year-old daughter. Yet here I am, completely blown away by "Wander Over Yonder," a show she insisted I watch after we finished her other favorites like "Steven Universe" and "Gravity Falls." I'll admit, I was skeptical at first - how good could another kids' show really be? But my daughter hasn't steered me wrong yet with her recommendations, and this time was no different. Finding Joy in Unexpected Places You know those moments when you catch yourself laughing out loud at something you're supposedly watching just for your kid? That's what happened with "Wander Over Yonder." The show follows this eternally optimistic orange fellow named Wander and his best friend Sylvia as they travel through space, helping others and regularly running into a hilariously inept villain called Lord Hater. It sounds simple, but there's something special happening beneath...

  D uring the 2020 pandemic lockdown , like many others, I found myself with an abundance of time after work hours. This led me down a path to catch up on anime series I'd missed, and somehow, I landed on JoJo's Bizarre Adventure. People had recommended it as "good" and "different from the usual anime." Well, they weren't wrong about it being different, but "good"? That's where things get complicated. Let me be brutally honest: the first season of JoJo's Bizarre Adventure is one of the worst anime experiences I've ever had. The artwork looks like a low-effort production from the '80s, the animation is subpar, and the story is, well, stupid. There's no other word for it. I nearly dropped it after two episodes, but two things kept me going: my principle of finishing what I start and the hilarious progressive rock references in character names that had me laughing out loud. These references were so absurd that they perfectly ma...

Recently, I've been retraining myself to play the guitar, specifically focusing on the sweep picking technique. It's a challenging style where you play individual strings in a fluid, sweeping motion. I'm following Barren's YouTube course, which I actually purchased back in 2010 but only now am taking seriously. This marks just one of many chapters in my on-again, off-again relationship with the guitar. My journey with guitar has been a winding road. From 2005 to 2013, I was a guitarist in a metal band. When that chapter closed, I simply dropped the guitar like it meant nothing. Years passed, and it wasn't until 2021, during the pandemic, that I felt drawn back to it. Looking for something meaningful to fill my time, I returned to one of my former passions. I even bought a new guitar and started taking lessons from Sindude, making real progress for a while. But old patterns emerged. Gaming took over in 2022, as I mentioned in a previous post. Then 2023 brought anothe...

  Chemical Scaffolding: Beyond Substances to Life's Dependencies Recently, I stumbled upon an intriguing concept while listening to an older episode of the Modern Wisdom podcast hosted by Chris Williamson. The episode, recorded during the 2020 pandemic, featured a renowned UK-based DJ Fat Tony who introduced the term "chemical scaffolding" - a metaphor that extends far beyond its original context of substance use into a broader commentary on human dependencies. The concept emerged from Fat Tony's candid discussion about how he managed to stay awake for four to five days straight - a feat only possible through the use of various substances. He used the term "chemical scaffolding" to describe how these substances essentially propped up his ability to function during these extended periods of consciousness. Understanding the Metaphor Think of a building under construction. Scaffolding serves as an external support structure that, while not part of the building ...

O n July 9, 2022, I made what I thought would be a meaningful decision - celebrating my birthday at Admiral Hotel in Manila. As the Philippines was emerging from the pandemic's grip, with people returning to offices, schools reopening, and public transportation becoming more available, I wanted to mark this gradual return to normalcy in a special way. The decision aligned with my 2021 resolution to create new memories. After spending two years largely confined at home, I felt it was time to treat myself differently. Through a connection at Admiral Hotel, I secured a reservation, envisioning a day of self-care and celebration of life's victories. The Reality Check However, the experience turned out to be quite different from what I had imagined. Upon arrival, I discovered that few establishments were open near the hotel. While Manila Bay and Star City were within walking distance, I wanted to relax rather than venture out. But here's the real issue - I didn't know how to...

I n 2018, the indie game Celeste introduced us to Madeline, a protagonist embarking on a challenging quest to scale a mountain.  While the game stands as one of the finest indie titles I've experienced, its genius lies not just in its precise platforming mechanics (reminiscent of Super Meat Boy) or its breathtaking soundtrack. What truly sets Celeste apart is how it masterfully weaves its gameplay mechanics into a profound metaphor about self-discovery and internal conflict. The game's core mechanic is beautifully simple yet demanding - jump, climb, and navigate through increasingly challenging levels. When you fail, and you will fail often, there are no lives to lose. You simply try again. This endless cycle of attempt and retry mirrors life's persistent nature, teaching us that setbacks are merely steps toward progress. At its heart, Celeste tells the story of Madeline's encounter with her other self - a shadowy, critical version that seems to exist solely to highli...

I have with me a poster hanging on my living room wall since 2021. It's a comic illustration by Zen Pencils that deeply resonated with my own journey.  The artwork, titled "The Rising Phoenix," tells the story of a young girl whose life path was meticulously planned by her parents' expectations and society's definition of success. The comic's brilliant use of color (or lack thereof) perfectly captures the essence of living an inauthentic life.  In scenes where the protagonist follows the prescribed path - studying diligently, graduating with honors, becoming a lawyer - everything is depicted in stark black and white.  The only bursts of color appear in flashbacks to her childhood, when she was free to play, imagine, and be herself. In those moments of authentic joy, her world was vibrant and alive with possibility. What struck me most was how the protagonist's journey mirrored my own experience in the corporate world.  Like her, I found myself in a role t...

2 021 was a year that brought me to my knees. For reasons I'm not yet ready to share, I found myself in one of the darkest periods of my life.  During the height of the pandemic in the Philippines, I did what many of us do when facing personal struggles – I buried myself in work. It was the only thing I could focus on, the only way to keep moving forward. But grinding through each day wasn't enough. I was holding onto something that I've come to realize affects many people during their hardest moments: the weight of past memories. These weren't just any memories, but the heavy burden of "could haves" and "should haves" – paths not taken and choices that led to what felt like a point of no return. The anger came first. It wasn't a directed anger, but rather a diffuse rage that colored everything in my life. I was angry at myself, primarily, for letting myself down, for compromising my standards to the point where  I barely recognized who I had b...

I n late 2021, I found myself drawn back into the world of gaming after a twenty-year hiatus. This return to play wasn't just about picking up a controller again—it was about reconnecting with a core part of who I am, a part I had tucked away but never truly lost. My gaming journey began in the late '80s to early '90s with the classics—Pac-Man on the Atari 2600 and games like Joust that defined those early digital days.  From there, I graduated to what we called the "Family Computer" in the Philippines (known as the Nintendo Entertainment System in the West). The Super Nintendo era followed, filled with countless hours exploring the worlds of Mario, each adventure shaping my childhood in ways I wouldn't fully appreciate until years later. Growing up in our part of the world, we didn't have easy access to original titles—our market was filled with bootleg cartridges, often selling multiple titles in a single cartridge.  While not exactly legal, these were o...

D ecember 2022 marked an extraordinary month in my life – I attended four weddings in less than 30 days.  While this might sound like the plot of a romantic comedy (yuck), each celebration taught me valuable lessons about love, friendship, and the importance of showing up for the people we care about. The first wedding was that of a colleague-turned-friend, a writer who joined our team in 2016. He honored me with an invitation to be a principal sponsor, which I regrettably declined. Looking back, I realize I was going through personal challenges that clouded my judgment.  Despite attending as a regular guest, I was touched to be treated with the same respect as a primary sponsor. At 38, it was humbling to see how much this colleague valued our relationship, transcending our professional connection. The second celebration brought me back to my musical roots. Our band's drummer from 2005-2013, now a pastor who still keeps music in his life, tied the knot in Antipolo.  This ...

T he COVID-19 pandemic brought unprecedented loss and hardship to countless people worldwide, and my heart goes out to all who lost loved ones during this devastating period.  Yet, as I reflect on those extraordinary times, I find myself experiencing an unexpected feeling – a peculiar sort of nostalgia for that period of global pause and transformation. Let me be clear: this isn't about celebrating the virus or its tragic consequences. Rather, it's about acknowledging how this collective experience fundamentally altered our understanding of "normal" and our capacity for adaptation. I vividly remember mid-March 2020, when everything changed almost overnight. The initial panic was palpable – endless lines at grocery stores, people stockpiling toilet paper and sanitizing wipes, and a general sense of uncertainty hanging in the air.  Those first few days felt surreal, like we were living in a really bad episode of Black Mirror. As weeks turned into months, our world trans...

Living in a third world country means facing daily challenges that many take for granted - from healthcare access to basic rights protection.  But being a metalhead in such a place during the late '90s and early 2000s? That was a different kind of struggle altogether. My love affair with heavy metal began at 14, when I first heard Sepultura's "Arise" on the radio at 6 AM. That moment changed everything.  From there, my hunger for heavy metal grew insatiable - not the nu-metal that dominated the airwaves, but the old-school heavy metal like Slayer, Iron Maiden, and the like.  However, in my corner of the world, finding this music was nearly impossible. Local record stores, if they carried metal at all, stocked albums from obscure places (if at all) at prices that were astronomical for a high school student with no income.  This is where the real labor of love began, specifically in my case, in Manila. Enter Recto's hidden treasure: a place called Nizzle Dazzle.  ...

In December 2022, I received an honor that I wasn't sure I deserved – becoming a principal sponsor at a wedding.  In Filipino culture, being chosen as a principal sponsor carries significant weight. You're expected to be a beacon of light for the married couple, offering wisdom and guidance throughout their journey together. The role demands someone with experience, wisdom, and strong moral character. Someone who can be trusted to provide sound advice when the couple faces challenges in their marriage. Which is why, when I was asked, I couldn't help but wonder: why me? The story begins in September 2015, when I first met the bride as a coworker. Over time, we developed a strong professional relationship built on mutual respect and reliability. Even after our paths went our separate ways professionally, we maintained that connection, occasionally collaborating on work-related matters.  During our time working together, she once mentioned that when she got married, she wanted...

It's funny how life has a way of bringing you full circle. When I say I've caught the running bug, I'm not talking about some pesky insect or a fleeting fitness trend. I'm talking about rediscovering a passion that had been tucked away in the pocket of an old jacket, forgotten but not gone. The Humbling Beginning In February 2024, I decided to add running to my fitness routine. Having exercised consistently since 2020 with various HIIT workouts and weightlifting sessions, I thought running would be a breeze. I couldn't have been more wrong. My first run was a humbling experience. Just 20 minutes in, my knees were screaming in protest. The aftermath was even more telling – for three days, I walked like a penguin, wincing with each step. Stairs became my nemesis, especially going down. It wasn't about age (though I'm not exactly young anymore); it was simply that my body hadn't run in years. But here's the thing about challenges – they either break you...