The mall beckons, attracting day-dreamers to discover its hidden wonders. A narrow bend extending up to the other end, what awaits the seeker are dozens of boutiques from top-brand clothing to high-tech gadgets found on the opposite sides of the corridor. Visitors come and go to gape at what's on display behind the glass mirror: A flat-screen high-definition television whose price tag is worth a fast-food crew's income for one year; A blue and yellow striped cotton shirt with a Crocodile logo worn by a Grey mannequin, whose plastic head has been severed from its ripped torso; A jeweled bag sewn with synthetic rhinestones and swarovski crystals on its leathery skin, it glistens like diamonds when illuminated by display lamps hung from the ceiling.
Some brave souls wake up from their day-dream by claiming these modern-day treasures as theirs. What is required is just a plastic card that will be swiped, slashed and signed in front of an attendant whose ear-wide smile has been plastered over her jaded face. "Another sale, another commission," her mind exclaims.
Day-in, day-out this is the life in the mall. Many do find its spectacle quite pleasing to the senses. I know someone who can spend three hours walking around its premises to try some items on display as if he's ready to buy them. He would fit a pair of slacks and check it out in front of the mirror. After he is satisfied with what he has seen, he would take it off and return it to the waiting saleslady, whose marks of frustration clearly shows on her face. Embarrassed at the sight of an attendant whose time has been wasted, I would storm out of the boutique with a confused companion running after me.
From then on, malling ceased to be an activity I would spend my time with.
I do not understand why some people find enjoyment roaming around malls for hours without buying anything at all. They say it's window shopping, but for me it is called self-inflicted pain. There is no fulfillment feeling and fitting a gorgeous piece of clothing that you cannot afford - unless you are trying different designs from where you would choose your purchase. Malls are places of agony, that's what I bear in mind when I enter its premises. Many people go there to dream of a tomorrow where they can afford anything their heart desires. What is so sad about dreaming though is that the more you are able to wake up to buy something, the more dreams invade your thoughts. Materialistic desires are wanting and once you become hook-up to the habit, there will be no limits to your spending.
Pardon, for this is what I've seen in my past life.
So I only go to the mall when I am intent on buying something. Often, I would drop by a store, pick up an item and then proceed to the cashier. To stay longer and get distracted by the items on display would just lead to frustration...
...because I know that I could afford whatever I want to pick. I could pay them. It is only my head that tells me never to dream of tomorrow. Somehow, my mother's age-old rule on spending for what is only necessary still ranks high among my core values.
So I've grown to become less dependent on material happiness, and instead find appreciation on what is already mine. For years, the malls have reminded me of that companion who would explore its secrets and call it his second home. I tried my best to never to dream and instead remain awake at the reality that I can never afford,
because the moment I could already afford, chances are, I would still never give up my hard-earned money.
That was my belief until this night.
Reborn to a new life, I accompanied a friend from Pinoyexchange to explore the hidden chambers of Greenbelt Makati. The boutiques we entered were too high-end for my taste, I consider them decadence. Who in the right mind would buy a plain white shirt for P2,000 pesos when you can get something else for an eighth of its price? Why spend on an extravagant piece of sculpture from Firma, when you can buy a more extravagant one - in Divisoria at a quarter of its price?
I would have ranted more at the obscene things I have seen except for one thing:
While checking the tag price of a Sony Bravia flat screen TV in one of the boutiques inside the mall, a vision appeared inside my head.
I saw myself standing inside a pad with white-washed walls. Four LED lamps illuminate the room where a black leather sofa leaned against a wall. There is a kitchen on the right, a rounded dining table near the door going out of the unit and a small bedroom close to the floor-to-ceiling window. Beyond the window is a view of Antipolo and Marikina, whose soft lights from thousands of houses twinkle like stars in the dead of the night.
There, placed against the wall between the living room and the bedroom is the Sony Bravia that my hands were feeling at the moment of dreaming.
Closing my eyes, and seeing once more the vision of a home that existed only in my head;
A home I began to dream again after five years of forgetting,
Yeah... this is what my new-found freedom had given me.
I tell myself over and over.
Someday, the flat screen TV will be mine.
Some brave souls wake up from their day-dream by claiming these modern-day treasures as theirs. What is required is just a plastic card that will be swiped, slashed and signed in front of an attendant whose ear-wide smile has been plastered over her jaded face. "Another sale, another commission," her mind exclaims.
Day-in, day-out this is the life in the mall. Many do find its spectacle quite pleasing to the senses. I know someone who can spend three hours walking around its premises to try some items on display as if he's ready to buy them. He would fit a pair of slacks and check it out in front of the mirror. After he is satisfied with what he has seen, he would take it off and return it to the waiting saleslady, whose marks of frustration clearly shows on her face. Embarrassed at the sight of an attendant whose time has been wasted, I would storm out of the boutique with a confused companion running after me.
From then on, malling ceased to be an activity I would spend my time with.
I do not understand why some people find enjoyment roaming around malls for hours without buying anything at all. They say it's window shopping, but for me it is called self-inflicted pain. There is no fulfillment feeling and fitting a gorgeous piece of clothing that you cannot afford - unless you are trying different designs from where you would choose your purchase. Malls are places of agony, that's what I bear in mind when I enter its premises. Many people go there to dream of a tomorrow where they can afford anything their heart desires. What is so sad about dreaming though is that the more you are able to wake up to buy something, the more dreams invade your thoughts. Materialistic desires are wanting and once you become hook-up to the habit, there will be no limits to your spending.
Pardon, for this is what I've seen in my past life.
So I only go to the mall when I am intent on buying something. Often, I would drop by a store, pick up an item and then proceed to the cashier. To stay longer and get distracted by the items on display would just lead to frustration...
...because I know that I could afford whatever I want to pick. I could pay them. It is only my head that tells me never to dream of tomorrow. Somehow, my mother's age-old rule on spending for what is only necessary still ranks high among my core values.
So I've grown to become less dependent on material happiness, and instead find appreciation on what is already mine. For years, the malls have reminded me of that companion who would explore its secrets and call it his second home. I tried my best to never to dream and instead remain awake at the reality that I can never afford,
because the moment I could already afford, chances are, I would still never give up my hard-earned money.
That was my belief until this night.
Reborn to a new life, I accompanied a friend from Pinoyexchange to explore the hidden chambers of Greenbelt Makati. The boutiques we entered were too high-end for my taste, I consider them decadence. Who in the right mind would buy a plain white shirt for P2,000 pesos when you can get something else for an eighth of its price? Why spend on an extravagant piece of sculpture from Firma, when you can buy a more extravagant one - in Divisoria at a quarter of its price?
I would have ranted more at the obscene things I have seen except for one thing:
While checking the tag price of a Sony Bravia flat screen TV in one of the boutiques inside the mall, a vision appeared inside my head.
I saw myself standing inside a pad with white-washed walls. Four LED lamps illuminate the room where a black leather sofa leaned against a wall. There is a kitchen on the right, a rounded dining table near the door going out of the unit and a small bedroom close to the floor-to-ceiling window. Beyond the window is a view of Antipolo and Marikina, whose soft lights from thousands of houses twinkle like stars in the dead of the night.
There, placed against the wall between the living room and the bedroom is the Sony Bravia that my hands were feeling at the moment of dreaming.
Closing my eyes, and seeing once more the vision of a home that existed only in my head;
A home I began to dream again after five years of forgetting,
Yeah... this is what my new-found freedom had given me.
I tell myself over and over.
Someday, the flat screen TV will be mine.
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