|
The Terrible Writings of Quentin Montejo
Serial experiments on a fallen archangel who only wanted to regain just one wing back
|
Free of the World. Rain worshipper. Hermit. Tormented mind.
Caged spirit. Defiant and eternal enemy of Destiny and Fate. Poet. Scientist. Artist. Daydreamer.
He who laughs. Slacker. Sleeper. Romancer of wings and clouds. Fiercely independent. He who is ponderous.
Games and anime junkie. Four eyes. Caveman. Nature-lover. He who doesn't think that hard. Non-smoker.
Music-junkie. Counter of blessings. Guitar-hugger.
He who simply wants what everybody else would like to be in this world and the next -- to be happy. |
|
Thursday, July 28, 2005
An Ant's Life
The past few feeks found me perusing through how-to-do business books and the like. You see, I never have ANY background with doing business, not even buy and sell. Heck, I am financially blind. What I do know since childhood is not to spend on something you can live without. But ofcourse, exceptions abound, even back then I'd spend all my savings on renting Game&Watch during the barrio fiestas. My wants are very few but given the resources would gladly spill big bucks for it.
After reading through a book entitled 'Think Rich, Pinoy' by Daniel Gamboa (?), I calculated my monthly expenses and to my horror, it reached around Php 8,800. All the while I would've thought I only spend about three or four grand or so. The book is nice, neatly packaged, and the author does seem to convey the general idea behind making money go round and round and back to you regardless of what business you're in. The problem is, his primary example is too much of his own business: real estate. Which I think somehow alienates readers who are not into his mindset. Now what does this all have to do with me? I'm beginning to get tired of the rat race, aside from the fact that I'm the entry who's just walking on the tracks. I've been raised to an environment that only says "Study hard, get a job, go somewhere". After college and about seven years in IT, that has been exactly the case. I've experienced being in the office for thirty hours straight (yes, you all may cover your noses) trying to beat deadlines, worked with assholes, and have been through all sorts of stress and despair. But at the end of the day, I don't feel enough fulfillment other than the fact that several people look up to me in the office. Maybe it's all because I'm still fuzzy about what I should want. Maybe I'm just happy simply because I'm alive and employed. And it's these times when I ask, "Wonder what happened along the way that I don't dream as much today as I did twenty years ago"? Why did I stopped dreaming? 3 Comments:
|
|
Site design © 2006 Quentin Montejo Productions |
|
+
|
|