At The Cusp of It

Macky and I caught up with each other finally, rekindling the wonderful hour we shared in that dark shuttle that connected where we worked and where we lived. On any other given night, I would have spent my free hours whiling away at the gym, and heading home terribly late on those notorious buses that seemed driven by the very Wind. But tonight, thanks to a disagreeable ham and peperoni sandwich, I resigned my uneasy self home.

And we talked and talked, as old friends are wont to do when separated for too long, and one of the things I told Macky--or confessed, since conversations with those bestest closest friends are always about the mundane yet somehow always turn brutally honest and introspective--was how I wasn't really feeling this new PC game.

It was an OK game. Cutesy graphics, a bit of the RPG theme in there, and most of all, lots of extravagant magic effects--which I am such a sucker for. "But," I told Macky. "I couldn't bear playing it. There was so much effort to remain interested." He said it was all to do with maturing, and I nodded. True that, but I confessed further how it didn't play out exactly that way--so to speak.

"I thought maturing, the growing out of games, was because of the growth in standards. Perhaps my more aged, experienced tastes demanded a compelling plot, elaborate visuals, something with a richer, deeper, more resounding experience. But, no. In this case, what killed my interest was entirely different. Instead, I felt that I was wasting my time on this. I wondered whether I'm going to earn money out of this? Will this help my career? I felt really guilty having fun and I think I lost my innocence a little bit."

We laughed about it at the time. Serious topics demanded a rueful chuckle as is customary between us.

We met a week later. On the same darkened ride, on the same intermediary route, we caught up again with each other. And there was much to catch up to. We had been quite busy.

He had just come back from Japan, a trip that started inconspicuously enough from one of Cebu Pacific's budget promos. He's always wanted to see Japan, and 5 months later he did, more of it than even I have. And he had such stories, about how great it was and how great everything is coming along and how great everything was once he got back. I had stories too. I was getting a new job. I told him how things were changing right now and how much change waits ahead and how much better it was all going to be.

There was so much in store for us two. For the moment, we were but humble commuters riding on the back of public transportation, squished into badly-lit compartments with fellow squishy commuters, faceless. But tomorrow, who knows? We might be the next modern moguls, fated magnates or even the tycoons of tomorrow. We will be known by our surnames, emblazoned on street corners, and mentioned when someone asks "Who owns that building?" Our children will be spoiled, but smart and wholly intact thanks to the best education money can buy. We will be the fodder of tabloids, the target of tax-hounds, and we'll be quiet in our mansions, far-above the reach of sensationalism and controversy.

We just had to stay on track. 2010's just started, and yet so much needs to be done. No wonder I felt guilty idling the time, I was riding a surging wave. So much momentum has been invested, and I've found myself at the cusp of it. It'd only take a little to fall off the brink, and yet there's so much promise waiting beyond the pregnant horizon.

So much to lose and so much to gain, life's so much more exciting than a video game--the effects really suck though.