It was a pretty fine Sunday for me to be the perfect traffic stopper in Ortigas Avenue but here’s the story:

Driving along Meralco avenue can’t get anymore extraordinary until a pack of stare-trippers on a jeepney ride started ogling at me with sheer ridicule. What can I do? I was so “in the zone” with my new reggae CD for me to not sing and dance along with it behind my steer. They were literally laughing and pointing at me to their fascination or should I say to their “entertained judgement”. Next thing you know, I was outta my car on my new pumps with my frizzed up hair all over my face marching my my fist towards this guy’s already pounced up nose. Suddenly, Meralco avenue’s red light was in a permanent stall thanks to the MMDA playing their peacemaking acts in the guise of radio-wiring (“aguila..meralco..over please!!) and motorcycle sirens. Setting out that green mile for me to precinct 52 (or is it?), I guess those ganging-up hecklers have learned their lesson: don’t mess-up with Goldilocks on a black car.

Nah! The scene was just caved in my head (referring to the going down the car part onwards). Sorry to disappoint you guys but thanks to my residual sanity and grounded (so to speak) Christian values, such a scene did not transpire. I, instead decided to sulk on my private world (which everybody knows I am good at) of profound thoughts and began thinking of what this whole thing is trying to teach me, thus this blog entry.

Nope, the whole experience did not tell me to never dance on the privacy of my own car in traffic but a feast of timely symbolism started to pop in my head. If I may just narrate for the sake of my readers learning past poetry in this blog, my current office situation very much paralleled what went on in Meralco avenue. In a nutshell, I am currently going through heated up email exchanges, malicious gossips about my sanity and hecklers painting the next story about me for their cheapso, ego-brooding testosterones’ content (sorry for going overboard on that last bit, need I say more on the gender of my “biggest fans”? hehehehe ). I can’t help but wonder how these people are just like those “new friends” of mine on Meralco avenue on a cheap ride. I figured, these guys (those on the jeepney ) probably felt really uncomfortable on their trip with no other option than to look at the one behind them who happens to be doing well in her own ride..her own world. I mean, It’s not my fault that I chose to have fun and manage to drive my vehicle to Sunday bliss and they’re not. Obviously, their gossiping about me can’t turn their commute into a luxury (or almost) voyage. It’s pretty good though that I did not go with my imaginary plan to confront them violently. Some people may find it hard to believe that it would be my last option to attack them just like that. My ego button is well secured with cushions of self esteem for them to puncture on. News flash! Pulela world is a whole lot better than what most weirdos think. Yeah, they’re the weird ones and not me.

Funny how all these came down somewhere in between my power nap over my derma session and creamy kopirotti cup which I both had awhile back. I have my own way of letting things simmer down so I can ponder and write about them. I believe that my God speaks to me through circumstances that unfortunately only I can spell out. People think I am way different from them and yes they’re right, I really am. Just that I don’t see anything wrong with that unlike them, who can amazingly find the time to magnify it infront of everybody without them knowing how it’s working to their disadvantage. They think they’re way better than anybody else simply because they’re so caught up with the world spinning around their foolishness. Relative to that, yeah they are better but on a larger scale, they’re no more than a minuscule inch of how I see things.