Balancing Figures: The Registration Form & The Admission Ticket

A day without anything laid down is sure to be a century. I have yet to do something productive for the third straight day. Is being magnetized by my bed all day long productive at all? After all those painstaking walk through the city to find a temporary place to live in perhaps? Maybe. Alright, then. I’ll consider it. Give it to me. This would be my final “7-day rest” before my anticipated chaotic entry to the CPA Review School.

Last week was hell. I mean hell. Do you know how it feels to carry your bag in the most cautious manner and at the same time doing your best efforts to deceive and avoid appearing to be the founder of the  PROMDI Organization of the Philippines? It kills me. It was a long walk. For each and every step, I was literally shaking. I had three things to look after: my wallet, my phone, and my heart beat. I was sweating ice in contrast to what Metro Manila’s temperature served me. And when I finally reached the destination, “Ohh God. Thank you.” It took me a while. Shaken-up. Looked-up. Head shook. “Oh no.” The Review School’s banner it was. Mas lumamig yung pawis ko.

I embrace short-term goals when trapped with such kinds of situations. Each ephemeral objective disappears like cute bubbles when achieved. Riding the train, nothing else filled my head except for arriving at my destination with complete set of things and limbs. Goal reached. Next! Writing for the registration, my goal was to have enough courage to borrow the officer’s pen. Goal reached, again. Kaso may konting irap at ngiwi yung pagpapahiram.

Before I left, I had felt a warning of urine outburst. I rushed to the rest room and established another short-term goal– to rush out, ASAP. Sobrang pang…wait. Tinakpan ko yung ilong ko ah? Ibang klase.

By simple means, I am able to sail through short-lived aims. Turning at the back of the page tells a different story– the path to the long-term goals. It is never gonna be easy, sure. Tolerable? Bearable? Of course. But for how long? Crucial. I have to be composed every step of the way. Easier said than done. Pahingi nga po ng Alaxan. 1-year maintenance po sana.

Success is never achieved in an instant. Name all those quotablest quotable quotes. Pick ten of them and pretty sure, at least half speak about failure turning to success. Everybody yearns for success. Such is the emblem that proves that one has lived his life to the fullest. YOLO. One life, one success.

Let the journey begin. You may see my previous posts. It will tour you to where these sentiments are coming from. Hugot na hugot, kumbaga.

Continuing with my story…where was I? Ah. The Albatross-Less Review School Rest Room. Nagutom ako sa amoy. Takbo sa katabing fast food. As I was eating, I picked my bag up and got my registration form for the review school. I stared at it, muttered, “Is this for real?” There came the prophetic side of me. A dark prophecy. Matik. Propesyon ng mga negatibo ang pananaw sa buhay. I thought of my life. CPA? Baka, RIP. Naku, wag naman. Gusto ko pa magsulat.

I won’t deny the fact that a part of my system still dynamically consolates for my name to appear in the “passers list” and not ruin the university’s rate. And oh! Please don’t forget the “must be” skillfully photoshoped image for the tarp. Thank you very much.

On a more serious note, I am not wary of not getting the chance to work in a firm and express an opinion for financial statements. What keeps me sticking is my conscience whispering, “You are now on the verge. Now or never. All or nothing.” RESPECT is the mass noun I pertain to, the verb I desire to acquire. Ignore all the add ons, the salt, pepper and cheese. I will push through for myself, for my esteem. Instant respect! No more, no less. Arms raised, body and soul tortured, reaching for it.

Such a magical registration form. It opened doors for realizations. One last bite, one last swallow of fried chicken meat, one last drop of orange juice. *gulp* Then some thought popped out my mind. Is respect all I really need? Do I live to earn such and die with an everlasting legacy? Pero hindi, e. Oo sige, papasa ako. Hypothetical lang. May mapapatunayan ako, irerespeto ako. Tapos, ano na? Hindi ko rin alam. Wala atang legacy dun. Wala atang monumentong itatayo na mukha ko ang nakaukit.

Checklist recap. Review school enlistment? Check. Dorm? Uh-um. Parent notification? Done. Girlfriend report? Never forgotten. Exhausting. Gotta have something to ease the stress. Manong, pakibaba po sa LRT station.

I didn’t know where my foot was leading me. Perhaps, the two personas of myself were battling their ass off. One pretended to be unaware, while the other had smelled victory as I headed into the train. A Metro Manila newbie, carrying a bag with a bunch of stupidity, born and raised with fear, got off with an optimistic mettle. “Araneta-Cubao Station.” It’s Ginebra day. My jaw dropping catch for oxygen didn’t hinder me, not even my migraine. That was my first time to watch a live game solely. It was a different feeling. Walang ka-trash talk-an. But then again, more realizations came my way. As they say, you’ll be able to dig deeper when spending time with yourself alone.

Red gate. Box Premium. Section UA318, Port 6, Row 9, Seat 2. That was the face of my admission ticket. Kapag talaga biglaan, natutuloy. Nangyayari din pala yun kahit sarili lang ang kasama.

How I missed the dome’s cool ventilation plus seeing those towering players do some pre-game warm-ups and shootarounds. It was definitely a different dimension, completely diverse to where I was in the morning and high-sun rising noon that day. It had me discovered and turned my analytical mind on. It was just the first game with countable members of the crowd. Ginebra hopefuls were expected to rape the gate entrance at 7pm. The entire row had me and a couple separated by a number of seats. You could just imagine how solemn it was– a strange environment for a physical sport event. I took advantage of it. I got my bag and pulled the admission ticket. Weird. Mind puzzling. Confusing, yet again. I isolated myself. In fact, I didn’t bother watching one of the Semerad twins and one of Pacquiao’s Kia boys trade punches down the baseline. It was a crucial analysis. The admission ticket gave me an infinite flashy smile. Being able to work in the Sports Industry is a sure pursuit for my lifelong JOY. But what about the registration form that gave me a sight of the most probable indications of RESPECT I’ve been longing for? Balancing figures, balancing possibilities. Hindi tulad sa Basic Accounting, bawal ang forced balance. Real life situations. Dapat tumpak ang bawat desisyon, ang pag-balanse.

The Registration Form and the Admission Ticket: two simple things susceptible to being defaced, two products of paper and print that figuratively revealed the journey I am travelling to. Too much exaggeration as it may appear, these freshly harvested insights would sure be the best performing raw materials added to the work in process of my virtual self factory. Aided by my best direct labor and indirect factors serving as the manufacturing overhead in the process, this production would transform me as the best finished good I could ever be.

The day had ended. Nanalo ang Ginebra. I could not ask for more.


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