Old Man

In the building where I work, there's this old man. He's not very friendly, because his job is to check that everyone entering the building has authority. You enter the building and you pass him on your left, in his oval desk that's called the reception desk. He looks at your ID. If you forget to lift it up (for him to see), he'll automatically say, 'Excuse me, ma'am,' so you look back, and show him your ID. Now, a lot of people hate his guts. Including me. You get to the office, it's pretty early. You have a mental list of things to do, you're already running late for an early morning conference call, and they have the nerve to stop you to check your ID. If I had half the nerve (and wasn't very scared of being bumped back to the Philippines in a heartbeat due to any unlawful act), I would show him my ID and ask him to shove it up his a**! I didn't want to be here this early on such a sunny day out in the first place.

Anyway, so everyone hates him (and his alternate receptionist too).

And then I saw him. Yesterday. He was eating a snack at the cafeteria. Alone. And reading a book. And looking every bit as normal as you and me.

It hit me like a wave of nausea. Only heavier. I was one of them. I was one of those people whom I detested so much in my younger, more idealistic days. It's Peter Pan's feeling when he grew up.

When I was younger, my curiosity always led me to look at people as people, in their singularity. Barenaked. Now, I can only see them in their roles. As cool yuppies, as geeks, as doctors, as waiters, as receptionists, as guards, as bus drivers. No faces, no hands, no hearts.

Oh man.

This old man. He's someone's son. Maybe someone's father. Maybe someone's brother. He voted and helped determine this country's fate. He laughed when he was happy, and cried when he was sad. He's experienced a loved one's death. He's experienced pain. Physical and emotional. Heartbreak. Fear. Hunger. Thought. He's human.

Am I?

I'm drowning in everyday's non-life. And forgetting the essentials of why I'm here in the first place.

Aren't you?