Saturday, January 27, 2007

Auf Wiedersehen, Peter


Peter, our German colleague, had his birthday-cum-despidida party last night at his house. After almost two years of not being able to go back to his hometown in Germany, he'll be leaving for the land of great beers tomorrow Sunday, and won't be back till May.

I never really thought about how it will be like without him around in the office. Me and the rest of the gang are used to the jovial mood whenever he is around. Peter's smile can be really infectious especially when he goes around saying "Ja?", which in German would mean Yes. And who will ever forget the most generous German in Davao, in fact, according to people who have known him a lot, he is incredibly generous, which is kind of rare for a German like him. But then again, all of us friends would say, "Well...that's Peter."

He also has this adventurous spirit. Well, having to come from Germany to Asia -- first to Indonesia, then the Philippines -- he's one hell of a party. And it doesn't speak much of his age, huh. It was because of Peter that I rediscovered the beauty of Samal, when we went diving, and some trips to the beaches there.

Well... we'll be looking forward to your comeback Peter, and for more badminton games, cocktail sessions, and more parties. But until then, Auf Wiedersehen!

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Choose life. Choose a job. Choose a career. Choose a family, Choose a f—king big television. Choose washing machines, cars, compact disc players, and electrical tin openers. Choose good health, low cholesterol and dental insurance. Choose fixed-interest mortgage repayments. Choose a starter home. Choose your friends. Choose a three piece suit on hire purchased in a range of f—king fabrics. Choose DIY and wondering who the f—k you are on a Sunday morning. Choose sitting on that couch watching mind-numbing, spirit-crushing game shows, stuffing f—king junk food into your mouth. Choose rotting away at the end of it all, pishing your last in a miserable home, nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish, f—ked-up brats you have spawned to replace yourself. Choose a future. Choose life . . . But why would I want to do a thing like that? I chose not to choose life. I chose somethin’ else. And the reasons? There are no reasons. Who needs reasons when you’ve got heroin?

Renton, Trainspotting