A PuRéE of LoVe and SuFfErInG

Long Day

2011-09-20T18:27:00.002+08:00

It has been a really, really long day!

And it isn't over yet. I want to just dive in a pool filled with ice cubes and let it take all this away.

It isn't over yet. I'm starting to dread these words. Of course, by now you'd know I am no longer referring to my whining about this day taking too long already!

It isn't over yet. I don't want it to be over. Whatever it is. Whatever this is, I miss it.

Oh well, tomorrow is another day. And just like this day, it will be a long one too. I pray though that by tomorrow's end, this will be over too. I have been locked long enough in this self-made cage.

Sigh.

Happiness

2011-06-22T10:06:00.003+08:00

It was Monday. A holiday. And I didn't like what I was feeling. I cried. But I had to stop those tears from falling. I don't want to cry anymore. Why would I, I asked myself. I was looking for a book to read so I can take my mind off that feeling. And since most of the books I have at home tell stories of broken hearts and broken dreams, I digressed.

Instead, I started browsing the saved messages in my phone and found this: "The worthwhile and important things in life - wisdom and happiness in particular - are simply not the sorts of things one can chase after and grab. They are instead the sorts of things that come to us where we are, if we let them - if we stop trying too hard and just let things happen as they need to (saved August 15, 2010)." The last words struck me the most. Maybe I am just trying too hard. Maybe I should just let things happen as they need to. But then again, maybe it's never going to happen. I became more distraught after having read that passage. Because frankly, I do not know what to do anymore.

I have always told friends that happiness is a choice. I have always believed in this. But recently, those words have lost all their meaning to me. Is it too much to ask that I be happy too? I don't want to be lost, again.

A friend of mine sent me an e-mail last week and I only got to read it yesterday. What a perfect timing. I am sharing it with you guys. Here it is.

Effective Immediately, please be aware that there are changes YOU need to make in YOUR life. These changes need to be completed in order that I may fulfill My promises to you to grant you peace, joy and happiness in this life. I apologize for any inconvenience, but after all that I am doing, this seems very little to ask of you. Please, follow these 10 guidelines:

1. QUIT WORRYING:

Life has dealt you a blow and all

you do is sit and worry.

Have you forgotten that I am here to

take all your burdens

and carry them for you? Or do you

just enjoy fretting over

every little thing that comes your

way?

2. PUT IT ON THE LIST:

Something needs done or taken care of.

Put it on the list.

No, not YOUR list. Put it on MY to-do-

list. Let ME be the one

to take care of the problem. I can't help

you until you turn

it over to Me. And although My to-do-list

is long, I am after

all...God. I can take care of anything you

put into My hands.

In fact, if the truth were ever really

known, I take care of a

lot of things for you that you never even

realize.

3. TRUST ME:

Once you've given your

burdens to Me, quit trying

to take

them back. Trust in Me.

Have the faith that I will

take care

of all your needs, your

problems and your trials.

Problems

with the kids? Put them on

My list. Problem with

finances?

Put it on My list. Problems

with your emotional roller

coaster?

For My sake, put it on My

list. I want to help you.

All you have to do is ask.

4. LEAVE IT ALONE:

Don't wake up one morning and say, "Well, I'm feeling much

stronger now, I think I can handle it from here." Why do you

think you are feeling stronger now? It's simple. You gave Me

your burdens and I'm taking care of them. I also renew your

strength and cover you in my peace. Don't you know that if I

give you these problems back, you will be right back where

you started? Leave them with Me and forget about them.

Just let Me do my job.

5. TALK TO ME:

I want you to forget a lot of things.

Forget what was making

you crazy. Forget the worry and the

fretting because you

know I'm in control. But there's one

thing I pray you never

forget. Please, don't forget to talk to Me

- OFTEN! I love YOU!

I want to hear your voice. I want you to

include Me in on the

things going on in your life. I want t

hear you talk about your

friends and family. Prayer is simply you

having a conversation

with Me. I want to be your dearest

friend.

6. HAVE FAITH:

I see a lot of things from up here that you can't

see from

where you are. Have faith in Me that I know

what I'm doing.

Trust Me, you wouldn't want the view from My

eyes. I will

continue to care for you, watch over you, and

meet your needs.

You only have to trust Me. Although I have a

much bigger task

than you, it seems as if you have so much

trouble just doing your simple part. How hard

can trust be?

7. SHARE:

You were taught to share when you were only two years old.

When did you forget? That rule still applies. Share with those

who are less fortunate than you. Share your joy with those who

haven't heard any in such a long time. Share your tears with

those who have forgotten how to cry. Share your faith with

those who have none.

8. BE PATIENT:

I managed to fix it so in just one lifetime you could have so many

diverse experiences. You grow from a child to an adult, have

children, change jobs many times, learn many trades, travel to

so many places, meet thousands of people, and experience so much.

How can you be so impatient then when it takes Me a little longer

than you expect to handle something on My to-do-list? Trust in

My timing, for My timing is perfect. Just because I created the

entire universe in only six days, everyone thinks I should always

rush, rush, rush.

9. BE KIND:

Be kind to others, for I love them

just as much as I love you.

They may not dress like you, or

talk like you, or live the same

way you do, but I still love you

all. Please try to get along,

for My sake. I created each of

you different in some way. It

would be too boring if you were

all identical.

10. LOVE YOURSELF:

As much as I love you, how can you not love yourself?

You were created by me for one reason only

-- to be loved, and to love in return. I am a God of Love.

Love Me.

Love your neighbors. But also love yourself. It makes My heart

ache when I see you so angry with yourself when things go wrong.

You are very precious to me. Don't ever forget......

What to do next?

2011-02-04T14:38:00.002+08:00

Scraps: garbage or food that has been discarded.

Yes. Probably. Close. But worse.

At least scavengers enjoy garbage.

Like a poor man's dog, I was waiting. I wanted to be needed. I needed to be wanted. And so I endured what I was feeling then, when all this has started. I know I deserve something. I felt I deserved it, from him.

And right now, I know I've lost, everything. I can no longer stand the sad eyes that look back at me every time I face the mirror. I have ignored them for as long as I could.

No. Exactly. Here. Worst.

I am not worthy. I am nothing.

Time

2011-01-22T10:55:00.004+08:00

To make good my words on losing some inches, I bought a pair of running shoes (read: ukay-ukay). I thought it was going to be hell finding the right pair and price. Tag along your best bud with you and you will have a blast (she bought herself 4 pairs and she couldn't complain).

Right after, we went to Chinito's in Camins. I wanted to eat some Hungarian sausages! Chinito's serves their Hungarian sausage either with rice or mojos. It also comes with a macaroni salad and some buttered veggies. Mine was with rice (2 cups) and Toni's, mojos of course. And almost always, the macaroni salad is left untouched. We also added an order of Buffalo wings which is a staple when we go eat there. And for dessert? Death by chocolate! You guys should try it. It's served with some caramel sauce. The cake itself is food for the gods! The moist inside portions were warm and the best chocolate I ever had in a cake! Not too sweet, not too bitter (I am literally salivating right now).

It was wonderful, my night last night. I got to spend time with my best friend. I never knew I'd miss her that much. Good thing her beau is in Cebu. Peace Arns and some hugs for you...

I hope this is not that late in the year

2011-01-21T11:38:00.013+08:00

It's a Friday. The last day of our midterm week. This means that I will have loads and loads of paper to check. That's very tiring. Because I will be looking at, well, close to 300 flowcharts and close to 200 functions written in C++! I'm not worried though, as I am used to this. I hate that feeling. Being used to doing something. Sucks up all the excitement and adventure in this jungle called the ACADEME!

As it turns out, this is my first post for the year. If you will allow me, I'd love to look back at my 2010. So many things happened in 2010. Let's see...

Went to Camiguin (June. I have promised myself to do this once a year, travel alone)

Visited Cebu six times (twice in February, March, April, June and October)
Went to see the tarsiers and chocolate hills in Bohol (February)

Boarded the space shuttle at EK with my old friends (October)
Tagaytay escapade still with old friends (October)
Walked most parts of La Mesa Park while a typhoon was wrecking havoc over the Metro (October)
Had an amazing breakfast at the Waterfront Hotel Davao (September)
Went to Boracay (October), for the first time!

Went Island hopping in Caramoan (November. PRECIOUS!)
Visited two orphanages (one in Cebu last October, one in Zamboanga, December)
Visited the Pediatric Ward of the Zamboanga City Medical Center
Donated blood (talk about civic duty)

Wow! I am amazed. Most of those are charity trips, and I am all too happy about that!

2010 was a year filled with travel. What is wonderful about this is I got to see old friends. Mae Supremo in Bohol, my college buddies in Cebu (Joy, Ayen, Lola Binks, Yowee, Yvette, Eric), Mama Dan Marie (salamat sa pizza) and Aena (salamat sa pagdala sakin sa meetup ng mga taga El-Bi) in Davao, Sir Jac Hermocilla and Mam Rizza in Boracay (of all places).

I was able to reconnect with them. I was reminded that friendship is a gift no matter how you look at it. That joy you feel when you see them after a really long time is just incredible. I am definitely going to Butuan this year to go and see Ate TJ and Ate Bing.

I had the most fabulous and wondrous time with Ate Gaye, Jutands, Lucman and Ate Iyang when we terrorized Ann Lucman's mansion! I really had a great time in EK, Laguna, Tagaytay, Hard Rock Cafe, La Mesa Park. And it was extra special because I was with all too familiar faces. I was with my friends. So don't mess with them or you will have to get friendly with people from hell! I'd gladly kill for them, figuratively or otherwise.

Yes, the Caramoan Islands are a sight to see. They become more enchanting though, if you are with people you care about. And I was more than glad that my Buday Jessica was there with me literally swimming the Islands of Caramoan. I miss my buday! You should have seen our faces when we went to the first island. We looked like some kids who accidentally saw Santa Claus putting wrapped gifts in stockings!

April was unbelievable! Kawasan Falls, Moal-Boal, Tops, AA's, Navi (yikes), Tika's wedding, Ate Iyang's wedding. It was the first time I traveled with my best friend Tonirose! It would be one of the first moments that will flash before my eyes the day I will die (Cleenex, please). If I could kill for my friends, imagine the things I will be capable of doing if you mess with Tonya!

And giving back. Thanking the almighty for the great year that it has been. And you know what's amazing about this, yes, I was with very dear friends (Ate Gaye, Jutands, Kuya Archie in Simala, Iggies 97 in Talon-Talon, Tonirose and John in the Pediatrics ward).

It wasn't all fun in 2010. I got my heart broken. You should have seen me. I was more than miserable. I was depressed and all that, yes. But I also became so mean to some people around me. I will never do that again for the sake of the people around and for my sake as well. I never thought I could do such things. I also got pawned when I childishly posted a frustration on my FB wall. It made me realize that I am human and that I make mistakes. I learned that I can humble myself and take full responsibility of what I do. I also learned that some cannot do this or at least is having some trouble with this.

And boy,was I a bitch! Rawr! I used to enjoy my workplace. That was until some people decided to make mediocrity their mantra! I leave this part with that, an exclamation point!

Then I made new friends just as 2010 was bidding goodbye. John Teodoro, Randy Jay Solis, Mark Cabil, Darwin De Lima and Randolph Tropezado, let's make December 2011 more fab than December 2010 (how are are we gonna top that?)!

So how do I see 2011? It's definitely going to be a year of reflection. Yes. It's definitely going to see a more responsible me. More mature. Change. Yes, that too. I am going to lose some inches here and there. Let's see if that's gonna get me out of this single "cursedness"!

Oh, I will now go back to checking midterm exams.

Hello, Are You There?

2010-11-25T15:29:00.002+08:00

Where are you? I miss your smile.
I miss the way the full moon lights up your face.
I miss the way the sun kisses your skin.
I miss the way you rock the world with your laughter.

You used to be happy, REALly happy.
You used to dance under the rain and just let loose.
You used to swim and just let the waves carry you.
You used to love, love yourself dearly.

What happened?
Where are you?
What are you doing to yourself?
Why did you let this be?

Please come back.
Come back to me and make me free again.
Come back.
Come back to me and tell me that the world is not a scary place.
Tell me that it was never scary.

The raindrops are heavy on your shoulders.
The grains of sand are painful on your face.
The sunlight is burning your skin.

Hush now. Hush.

I am Back!!

2010-11-13T18:00:00.002+08:00

I am definitely back! And I feel good about it. And I am feeling $o lucky today! Yeah baby!!

I Quit You

2009-09-26T11:37:00.004+08:00

You have been making my day, all my days, for the last year. And I liked it that way. But I have to let go of this. It is not right. This is not right. I guess this is the only cure I know. It's true that bad days become the best when you are around. It is true that you make me smile before I finally close my eyes for a slumber late at night. But you see, you don't love me. You can't love me. It's not your fault. And it never was. This is the only cure for what I feel right now, when I wake up and open my eyes, squinting at the light coming from the rays of early morn sun. Too, squinting at the TRuTH.

And this is what makes this all the more painful, damn, you are my right kind of wrong.

Four Days

2009-06-04T11:51:00.013+08:00

I gave Manong tricycle driver 40 pesos for my fare. That was a very quiet, and chaotic ride at the same time. He dropped me at Valderoza Street near the CAP building.

I walked a few meters towards where we were to meet. One leg was hesitant, the other more hesitant. One part of me was telling, more like ordering me, to just go back home. This other part, this annoying other part, was telling to see this one through. But I already decided to see this one through the moment I alighted from the tricycle. All there was left to do was to force those legs to go take those steps.

I suddenly felt the world was turning around me. I felt pressure going up through my head and I started seeing black spots. I took a pause, took a deep breath. My legs were shaking.

Surprisingly, I found myself peering, quite nervously, through the glass doors of the restaurant. I was relieved. I saw no familiar faces.

There was a couple, to my right, browsing the menu and a rather stocky crew waiting for their orders. The woman was probably in her early 30s, the guy, I was not so sure of. His back was facing me. She was wearing a white collared top, sleeveless with raffles outlined around the pearl button line from her neck to her chest.

"I'm here. Turn to your left," read the message from him.

It was loudest pound I've ever felt in my entire life. Pictures of him whispering in my ear, his left hand holding mine, leading it gently to the headboard kept flashing. Before I could hear what he was trying to say, I was back to my self, turned left and walked to him.

There was a glass of iced tea. A teapot and the smell of Twining's four red fruits. He stood up, walked to the chair opposite his and pulled it out for me. There was something in his smile. It was heavy, almost sad. "Hi, he--llo," he stuttered. I sat and he went back to his seat.

Before he could say anything, "Steve, this has got to stop. Your wedding is in four days. I can't have this right now, not anymore."

"Exactly, my wedding is in four days and I can't stop thinking that I am going to make this big mistake."

"You've dreamed for that day to come. She loves you and you adore her. And this is going to be the envy of the stars, remember?"

"After what happened last night, I knew seeing this through is going to be the biggest mistake that I'll ever do, and I can't make that mistake. I won't. I won't make us miserable for the ..."

"What happened last night, that was the mistake Steve. What happened ..." I froze, I just froze, literally.

"I will never hurt you." He whispered. His left hand was still holding mine. Both rested on the headboard.

I was myself again.

He was looking intently at me, as if he saw what just flashed before me. It was as though he heard himself whisper those words.

Reading

2009-05-28T10:35:00.003+08:00

Reading is
~~fundametal~~
~~fundamettal~~
~~fundemutual~~
good.

I saw this on a shirt when I was in Cebu back in 2003. I fell in love with the shirt so I bought it. It was the first time in 4 years I wore that shirt yesterday. It was nostalgic.

Bye Steven

2009-05-16T17:06:00.005+08:00

"Bye John," he said.
"Bye Steven," was all I could reply.

To him, it did not mean anything. That is what he always says when he leaves.
To me though, it was as if it was the end of the world. It was as if I'd never see him again. It was as if I'd never be able to talk with him. It was as if I never can reach out to him, again.

We were at a local bakeshop (that one that makes the best chocolate cakes in the city, the one near the boondocks). We were having cake and tea. And it was time for him to go, and time for me to go back to work.

It felt like it was our last tea together. I know it was our last tea together. And when he said "Bye," I knew very well that it was time to go too.

Tonight, you see, he is going to ask Margaux's parents for her hands (we call it pamamanhikan). They've been together for 3 years now, Margaux and Steven. And it was time, it was their time.

It was so innocent, his goodbye. Before that, he asked me to be his best man. And I didn't say no, I can't say no. I said I would be happy to. I said their story is going to be the envy of the stars. Then there was silence, awkward silence. He looked at me and I at him. He stood up, gave me a pat, looked at me one last time, smiled and said "Bye John."

The moment he said that, I knew it was no longer one of those I-felt-as-ifs. I really felt it. Tasted it. And it tasted like fresh blood and smelt of rust and ash.

************************
How could I see him, look at him? How could I talk to him, reach out to him? How could I care for him and love him when he is already half of this wonderful thing I had dreamed of us to be.

How could I, when I know the other half isn't me and will never be.

I know what will happen next

2009-05-06T13:52:00.002+08:00

I was having this conversation with a friend thru text messages. We were talking about someone. Then she cautioned me to slow down. In my reply, I simply said that I know myself too well. No need to worry about anything. I said, I exactly know what will happen next.

I will fall. And i will realize that it can't happen. We can't happen. I'll cry. Then cry some more. All these with him not knowing anything.

At least I now know, too well actually, what my tear ducts are for. And damn! They never run out of tears.

These days, tears are the only thing that make me believe that I am still human.

I am hoping that one day, one random smile will make me believe that I am a human being, worthy.

Things Better Left Unsaid (Not a Part 2)

2009-04-25T08:54:00.004+08:00

I talk a lot. I have a hard time zipping my mouth. Sometimes I become too frank that at times I become rude. And I tend to be honest. Especially with the people I care about, a lot.

So there, I said a few things I thought I should have. Unfortunate.

They say that some things are better left unsaid. I didn't believe in that.
Until we stopped. Until he stopped.

I knew then, when I wrote this, that there never will be a part 2. As much as I want it to have a sun-kissed, walk-hand-in-hand-by-the-sea-as-the-sun-sets part 2, it will never happen.

At least, I now know how it feels to be asked to join someone's table.

And I know it means nothing.

Things Better Left Unsaid - Part 1

2009-01-12T09:24:00.003+08:00

I want to cry. I need to cry. But it seems like my tear ducts have dried up.
They say that some things are better left unsaid. I didn't believe in that.
Until we stopped. Until he stopped.

First Sunday of April 2008. I woke up at around 2 pm. I felt like the world was resting on my head. I couldn't stand up because the world around me was spinning. So I sat on my bed. I was trying to recollect my thoughts and trying to remember how I got home. Nothing. The only thing I could remember was I was with Dave and Caren having a discussion, err, argument about Conrado de Quiros the night before at some bar.

Two days after, I wanted to go out but everyone was busy. I decided to go out all by myself and went to this bar where I was last time. I was getting in the bar, then I thought the car parked near the bar's entrance was familiar. But nothing registered. The place was full. There was one table near the counter though, a table for three that seemed empty. I was about to sit myself when this guy pulled one of the chairs and sat himself too. He was smiling at me. As if struck by lightning, everything came back. That's why the car was familiar. That's why I woke up at 2 pm. It was Steve. He was wearing a white shirt. The print said "Don't even think about it." It was black, the print.

He's working at the City Hall, at the City Treasurer's office. He is 29 years old and about 5 feet 6 inches tall. His hair, well, he has a shaved head. He has quite a nose. It looks very much like Michael Douglas'. He is a tad darker than I am. His eyes, black. And when they look at me, they're like the most sincere pair of eyes that ever locked into mine. His voice, well, like a rock star's.

"Damn! I couldn't believe it. Look who's here?" "I couldn't believe myself either," I replied.

The first Saturday of April 2008. I was with Dave and Caren. We've had just two rounds of beer. We were feasting on these beef strips cooked in coconut milk, butter and shrimp paste. And some nuts. We were arguing about Conrado de Quiros. I was telling them that I started hating the columnist since he started hating PGMA. But I still read him though. Dave was saying that someone had to stand up and simply say bluntly what evil PGMA is. I was saying, more like shouting already, that she isn't all that bad, when this guy from across our table grinned and he was looking at me. I didn't so much mind about it. But he kept doing it, every time I was getting too emotional defending PGMA.

I was calm at that time. I approached him. He was all by himself. He was already there when Dave, Caren and I arrived at the bar. "So, you seem to be enjoying our conversation back there." "Not really," he said. "I mean, you are drinking your beer. Give those guys a break. Just enjoy your beer," he continued. He politely asked me to join him in his table. For a moment there, I hesitated. But heck, how many times do I get invited to join a guy's table!

He was having pizza with his beer. There were six slices left on the platter. He was almost done with his second slice. It was carelessly placed on a saucer, black saucer, (the second slice). He asked Rafa, one of the waiters, for another saucer and a fork. I excused myself for a while. "I'll just go tell my friends I ran into someone, ok?" "Ok," he replied and then sheepishly smiled.

I was back at his table in a jiffy. I sat in front of him. The table had three chairs. "So, you often do this? I mean go out alone?" "Some nights, well most nights actually," he answered without even looking at me. His thoughts seemed to have been wandering someplace else. He called out to Rafa again and asked for a bucket of 5+1. This guy wants to be drunk tonight, I mumbled to myself.

We made this a regular thing. Usually on Sundays and Thursdays. Of course there are weeks that we miss out. I was busy. He had to go out of town. I had to be with my friends. He had to be with his mom. I fought a bout with colds. He had a fight with his Dad. I had to finish some slides. He had to chaperon his kid sis.

(To be continued...)

Underneath It All

2009-01-06T15:02:00.003+08:00

Something I wrote three years ago...

I feel safe around him. I feel appreciated. And, I want to play with the idea that I am loved every time I am with him.

But I really don’t know if he does love me. I just have this crazy feeling, crazy thought, crazy dream that like me, he too has been found by love.

Like a bird who has broken its wings, like a nightingale who has lost its voice, like a cloud pouring hard its all, like them, I have broken my wings, I have lost my voice, I have cried my all.

It is funny how you suddenly realize that you have missed so much of the world because you have made him your all, your world and still would want to miss more of the world just to spend one more day with him, even for just one more.

And I thank him for that. Because I could not imagine moments passing by, life coursing through, without him, without having known him, without having to know that there is one person in this world, this strange world, who could make me believe when there is nothing more to believe in.

If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t have realized that even the daisy is also pretty, I wouldn’t have realized that the sun is just as romantic as the moon, that dreams come true and that love is love. I wouldn’t have realized that even I can be loved. I know it’s such a strong word, love, but it is what it is, love is love.

Albeit this same love has made me realize that I can’t have everything, most especially him, it is this same love that has taught me to believe in everything and in forever.

And if this love has finally left him but still lingers on in me, I will love, I will believe. And I will always remember that the daisy is also pretty, that the sun is just as romantic as the moon, that dreams come true and that love is love.

Random Non-sense

2008-10-22T21:26:00.003+08:00

3rd bottle in 3rd cup. The place, serene and quiet, suddenly turned into a market place. To my right, a group of teeners, high school teeners for sure, are a group of first timers. I could listen to their stories. One is talking about his basketball game, being benched for like the nth time. Another talks about his encounter with some girl he saw in Giordano. In front of me are a group of men, barely men I suppose. They were enjoying their PSP game a while back. But, like me, on their 3rd bottle as well, they have entered into a conversation they are so into. I could not make out of what they are talking about, except for the occasional laughs. They are intently engaged in watching at their Sony Vaio laptop. One of the men, err boys, is wearing a peach shirt. I just had to mention it. Nothing special. Another, the guy to his right, is wearing a bull cap. Oh, I was to segue from the part when I typed the word laughs.
Laughter. Someone plurked something about what makes you laugh. Looking at my self in the mirror makes me laugh, I replied. I just posted that because I did not know what else to post.
This whole post is not going to make any sense. So don't start rationalizing what you are reading right now.
I have been a software engineer once in my life. I have worked with a lot of people. Some weird, some weirder still. But it didn't matter. It didn't matter if one was weird. Because there, so long as you were doing your job, which was to meet deadlines and code elegantly, you were fine. It didn't matter if at lunchbreak you were listening to Michael Jackson then on to April Boy Regino the next. It didn't matter if you liked Erap but hated FPJ.
Now, well, I just have to smile.
I would like to think that it wouldn't matter if I met someone who doesn't like me. I met many of them by the way. I would like to think that I am doing them a favor, at least they have someone to laugh about, to say bad words about.
And that is not about to change, my belief that it shouldn't matter.
I have realized that we can't please everyone. Some will disappoint us, others will disappoint us some more.
Like I said, this is a random non-sense... :)

Wednesdays

2008-09-16T10:43:00.002+08:00

I have seen red rose buds bloom into immense beauty

I have seen them wither too, petal after petal.

I have watched the sun heed to the dark

I have watched the dark heed to the bright of light.

I have seen the moon, full and proud, bow

I have seen the moon, invisible and new, shine

I have watched Wednesdays dawn into Thursdays

I have seen all these, but not you.

Low

2008-08-31T20:03:00.003+08:00

I have done stupid things in my life. But what I did last night tops all of them. It was disgusting. It was bordering on psychosis. I was so damn stupid. Bien tanga! gago!

On Wet, Cold Saturday Mornings and Cory Aquino

2008-08-30T10:32:00.002+08:00

I had a hard time getting out of my bed this morning. It's been raining for hours already. It's cold, not the devilish kind, but the kind that makes you want to not get out of bed and just lie down there and dream. I wanted to fall asleep. And dream of you. I haven't seen for almost two months now. I can't say if you are avoiding me. You said you're just busy. I can take that lie. I seem to have been feeding on those lately, your lies. Lie to me, one more time. Lie to me, and tell me you miss me too.

The dream never came and it's getting late, one peek outside the window, tells me that the truth is cold, and that when the rain falls gently, it's going to be a while before the chilling pain goes away.

I got out bed, brushed my teeth, washed my face and logged on to Inquirer.net. I got intrigued by this news which read "Cory Aquino: Use People Power to fight poverty." Then I was fuming. For a while there I wanted all her yellow clothes to change to the rust colored kind. You see, I never liked her.

Yes, why not use people power? Use the power of the people to fight poverty. When the two people power revolutions were staged, there was a ridiculously great amount of money involved. Businessmen, mostly, did not bother to pour in money just to have a corrupt and evil administration toppled, in a bloodless revolution.

Why do we find it hard to the same in fighting poverty when it is very easy for us to go to the streets and point fingers at the wrongs of an administration who might just have been trying its best to solve the gargantuan problems of this seemingly small country? I don't want to go into telling you that it's because of personal interest. That helping out in toppling down an administration is an investment.

I pity my fellow Filipinos who, in all fervor and patriotism, just want a peaceful and corrupt-less nation (myself included). I feel used. I feel betrayed.

The rain has not stopped yet. It is still cold. I am going to take a bath now. And it will be cold.

The rain gently falls. Slowly. Telling me it's going to be a while before the chilling pain goes away.

On Ben Chan, "I am Ninoy" and de Quiros

2008-08-25T22:08:00.003+08:00

Ben Chan was the player in this afternoon's episode of Deal or No Deal. When down to the last two cases and with PhP150,279 offer from the banker, he opted to go for his case, briefcase number 5. This number has always brought him luck said Kris. With this, he was standing to lose the offer and bring home 10 pesos or lose the offer and donate 300,000 to a charity. He promised to give the charity the 300,000 if his case turns out to be 10 pesos. The number 5 must have been very lucky for him as it contained the 300,000 (and you hear Kris shriek!). As if he cared, he is freakin' Ben Chan.

Kris asked for this black shirt, one of the "I am Ninoy" shirts. She thanked Ben for makin' them and making her mother, Cory Aquino, very happy. The shirt is available in all Bench outlets and in all sizes.

Last week, the country remembered the heroism of Ninoy, his assassination's 25th Anniversary. To this day, those sentenced to be imprisoned for life, the supposed culprits in the assassination, deny ever having been involved in that monstrosity.

On December 30, 2003, President Gloria Macapagal Arroyo pledged not to run in the 2004 presidential elections. There must have been sincerity in that, she made it on Rizal Day. Almost everyone praised her. The many projects that she started to pay attention to were no longer considered as campaigning for the next elections.

Suddenly, she filed her candidacy. That's when de Quiros lost faith in her. It's as if, the only glorious thing about her was her name. It no longer mattered that she was daughter of a former President of the Republic. She was devil incarnate to de Quiros.

That's also when I stopped reading de Quiros. Almost all his articles were about how evil PGMA has become. You see, I've always loved de Quiros. He used to be the only reason why I read the Inquirer.

Then he wrote this.

Hindi ka nag-iisa. What has made this country a little less bereaved by August 21 is that it dwells too much on a particular martyrdom to the exclusion of all else, turning it as well into a conceit, wrote de Quiros. Very well said. I think it is important to remember that it wasn't only Ninoy who was assassinated. It wasn't only Ninoy who shed blood. It wasn't only Cory who lost a husband. It is important to remember that it was the nation's sacrifice. They were in the hundereds, thousands even. They were nameless and faceless, and they remain to be in the eyes of the Filipinos to this very day.

De Quiros concluded his article with this: "I wonder when we’ll ever make August 21 a little more meaningful by adding that dimension to it. True enough, Ninoy, Sin and Cory were, and are, heroes. But hindi sila nag-iisa. There were, there are, more.

A lot, lot more."

And that's probably the reason why we have the National Heroes' Day. That's today, by the way.

The Separation of Church and State

2008-07-30T10:10:00.003+08:00

I've been wanting to write about this ever since the Catholic hierarchy has been threatening Catholic lawmakers of not giving them communion if they will support the Reproductive Health Bill. I never got to write what I wanted to say though. Then I read a news in the Inquirer where the Catholic Hierarchy reminded its flock of its non-endorsement of condoms even to married couples with HIV (if your husband has HIV, the Catholic hierarchy reminds the uninfected wife to never resort to wearing a condom during intercourse). This didn't just bother me, it angered me. But I kept my cool. This morning, while reading the paper, some bishop was in the news again, threatening members of his church of excommunication if and when they will support the Reproductive Health Bill! I still can't say what I want to say.

I remembered MLQ III's article in the Inquirer. I guess he said it perfectly. The following are the article's last two paragraphs:

"At the very least the hierarchy not only has the right, but the duty, to mobilize. It is up to the faithful whether they will follow their shepherds’ lead. Personally, I do not think it either desirable or productive to question Catholics on questions of faith or morals: Any serious Catholic is under the same obligation as any decent Filipino to defend his principles, to the death, if need be. To demand of Catholics that they restrict the application of their faith and morals to the confines of their homes and churches is essentially to ask them to commit apostasy.

But it is fair and just to remind the hierarchy and the rest of the Catholic citizenry that our Republic does not exist for Catholics alone, and this means that their faith and morals cannot be made the exclusive basis for state policy."

You can read the entire article here.

Comme des Garcons

2008-06-05T21:03:00.005+08:00

That's French for "like boys." No! Read it again. It's "like boys" and not "I like boys." Although that is true as well, very much in fact.
Comme des Garcons by Junya Watanabe. That's what's written on the pair of shoes I recently bought. It's a pair of browns. Comme des Garcons is a famous brand in Japan with over 200 vendors around the world. It also has a store in Paris. I know, I can't afford these kinds of shoes. They are out of my league, so to speak. But I just bought a pair bitches! Be jealous, be very jealous!
On second thought, don't be. I bought them for only PhP120.00. It's that cheap. I got it from ukay ukay. That one near the United Pharmacy. Every night, that small alley there turns into an ukay ukay of shoes, shoes of every kind. Littered, quite disorderly, on the pavement are all kinds of shoes. Brand new class A pairs of all brands. But what I consider real finds are those pairs formerly owned by God knows who! If you just patiently look, more like hunt, you will find a pair that will suit you best. Like the Comme pair I found.

Seated like a five year old near a bush, she was wearing a hat. It was more like a rag wrapped around her head. I couldn't make the color of the cloth, it was past 8 pm. She was seated there on the side walk, near the bush. The bush was fenced by four lines of barb wire. Behind her was a brown box. It was empty. Tin cans of four different sizes were neatly arranged right in front of her. They were rusty. Two of the cans had water in them. One was almost empty, the other almost half empty. There was one big can with its lid cover folded away from it. It contained what seemed like leftover rice. There wasn't any mat nor rag nor even flat cartons that may have served as her floor. Between her and the soil is that rough, cold and heartless pavement. There were plastic bags around her. One bag was black. The rest were either white or red. Tucked in one of those plastic bags was a cat. Almost a foot long, curled in a spoon position. Unmindful of the people passing by the street. Another was asleep near it. Both were a collage of orange and brown feline hair. Carefully watching people pass by the street was a third cat. It was comfortably settled on its belly on the old lady's skirt. Together, the cats, the plastic bags, the tin cans and the old lady, they formed a circle. The brown box at the back of the old lady. It was a picture of how life must be lived. Simple, uncomplicated and full of care. The lady's eyes never wandered away from the cats. She must have provided for these cats for a long time now. They were a picture of a happy family. Like the first cat, the old lady was as well unmindful of the things that was happening around her. She did not even notice I was carefully studying them from about a meter away. Why should they bother us anyway? Why should she even mind about us? When they were perfect, just like that. It didn't even cross my mind if they had dinner already. I wanted to talk to her. I wanted to ask how she was and how long has she been taking care of the cats. I wanted to ask her if she had a home, if she had a family.
All she had to do to appease me was to be herself, to look after her cats under a dark, cloudy, starless sky.
I feel heavy, writing this one. I have to end this now. A tear just fell from my left eye. I can still see her face, full of love and full of passion. It's raining hard outside.

Salted Peanuts

2008-05-27T21:16:00.002+08:00

She couldn't have been any younger than 50. She had this black lace, littered with golden glitters that kept her hair up in a ponytail. Her forehead was oily, and her cheeks as well. She seemed tired. Her eyes seemingly wary, mostly tired and a bit reddish. Between seconds, she reaches for a bag of Sugo salted peanuts. She was carefully munching the nuts, ever cautious to part her lips in every munch. I could see that she kept munching the nuts with her left set of molars. She probably have lost her right set of molars, seeing that she's in her fifty's. She was sitting in a stooped position, almost unintentionally. She just wiped her right hand on her pants, the right pair to be exact, right on her thigh. She was wearing a pair of black corduroy pants. The side of each pair open, about 2 inches in width, knitted in designs of "x". It was annoying, her wiping in her pants every 4 or so nuts. With her right ring finger, she scratched the bridge of her nose. Her nails must have not been manicured for a year. She then reached for the bag of nuts again. She wasn't wearing any ring, I noticed. Either she's allergic to rings or she's a spinster, but hopefully not the mean type. She seems to be a nice lady. She's wearing a pair of golden earrings.
A screaming siren shook me and made me stop staring at her. It came from a speeding PNP car that had "Bomb Squad" written on its side. I figured, probably there was a bomb threat in Guiwan. That's where the car was heading in a flash. Then I noticed that we were following an old Volkswagen beetle. It's plate read "LAW 241." I'll be honest, I am not sure with the digits that came after the letters. His plate read LAW. That was what caught my attention. It made me think, what's the use of having laws when bomb scares and bomb explosions seem to be routines in our place?
What are laws if they cannot deter would-be criminals and terrorists? What are laws when law enforcers become the criminals and the terrorists?
Cicero once said and lectured that "The good of the people is the chief law." What does it mean when one says people that are good, anyway? Before I become the philosophical fish that I sometimes am, I just have to look at the hungry Filipinos who are running out of patience, running out of time, running out of options.
She reached for her bag of nuts, again, not minding the bomb squad that just crossed our way. I wonder if she even heard the siren. She kept munching, wiping her right hand on her right thigh, reaching for the bag of nuts and munch again.
That's my stop. I signaled the driver, stood up before he slowed down and stepped on the breaks. That's when I noticed she was wearing a pair of black leather shoes. The kind that high school teenagers wear as part of their uniform ensemble.
Oh joy! There were no pedicabs in sight. I didn't want to walk one-hundred fifty meters to our house. I was really exhausted. I came from the grandstand where I jogged almost six rounds. I was with Jerome, Romeo and Paulo. We headed for the boulevard afterwards, ate balot (I had two), tempura and downed a 12-ounce bottle of mountain dew.
There was nothing at that moment I wanted to do more than just lie down on my bed and get a power nap before I hit the showers.
Bent on not having that walk, I waited. Ten minutes have passed but still no pedicabs in sight. Pissed off, I started walking when someone called out my attention. The Lord is so magnanimous. A pedicab!
I reached our house still thinking of the bag of Sugo salted peanuts. I completely forgot the lady's oily face.

It's over, almost

2008-05-25T11:34:00.002+08:00

The summer classes are over. This means that I no longer have to wake up very early in the morning. I had a 7:30 this summer. That's a reeelief! I still have to give a final exam on Tuesday though .
Grrrrrrrrrrrrrh!
A brownout just cut my Caspian Prince download! And I can't seem to resume it! Waaah!
Where was I? Oh, the final exam I have to give on Tuesday.
I'll be attending a seminar on Photo Editing and Desktop Publishing the whole next week, all the five working days. Then there's the group of students I am training for the ACM Programming Contest and the Smart Sweep Contest. They are a bunch of brilliant students. Not the geek kind. But a bunch who knows how turn every algorithmic nightmare into one helluva party.
We have to finish two applications (card games) in time for the orientation seminar for the Freshies. We are experiencing a dwindling enrollment in our Computer Science and Management Information System programs. We need to work on this one, hard.
Just when I thought that I was free of the 7:30, it was jaw-dropping when I saw my schedule for the first semester. Monday - Friday, 7:30 am!
You see, I have a problem with this schedule. I teach Computer Science subjects. I handle both the elementary and advanced programming subjects, data structures, and the design and analysis of algorithms. The 7:30s I will have this first semester are both advanced programming. I need an LCD projector for this class. And offices open at 8:00 am. Yes, we do not have our own LCD projectors in our department. So we depend on the Computer Center and our College. Like I said, their offices open at 8:00 and they don't allow us to borrow the projector late in the afternoon the day before. The projectors can't stay in our office overnight. But I will try to work out this one.
When all this work is done, I am so going to the beach and bask under the sun's deadly rays! I will conquer Malamawi!

On Giving

2008-05-18T20:31:00.003+08:00

I have never considered my work, work, 'til this day. I am tired. Until this day, I never had difficulty waking up early in the morning. When everyone is enjoying their summer, trying to catch up on the sleep they have missed out, I am cheerfully waking up early, dawn after dawn. I've always considered the new morn a blessing and a chance to help one more soul, one more person who needs help. My philosophy has always been that help is always around, all one has to do is ask. So, as long as I can give the help, i'll give it, with cheerful mood.
Sometimes, life can be cruel. But I take it. I take with a big heart. Bring it on bitches! I may be ridiculed, I may be cautioned but I'll never be stopped. Oddly so, I feel tired. Stressed out. Life is indeed a box full of chocolates. You never know what you will get. But it no longer matters. It must never matter. But that's until today.
I feel the urge to no longer give a damn, not one bit. Bahala na, the famous Filipino saying goes. I wanna be free.
But what does this mean? Giving up on the one thing I so believe in? I am not asking for anything grand, anything in silver and gold.
All I am asking is we all enjoy the sunset for the sunset that it is. The full moon that it is, sans embellishments, just the full moon hanging in the dark blue sky.
It is futile. Futile to try to please everyone. That is true. But that won't stop me from trying.
This world will never be the world that we want this to be. Never. I don't have to tell you why.
Because we don't wallow in the why, we move on. We no longer search for answers, we become the answers.
We may fail others, but knowing that we try our damn best, all we could ever say is, it sucks to be them.
I know I should not have said those words. But that's the whole point of it all. We say what we need to say and never regret it. Because at that instant, that's what I wanted to say, that's what I needed to say.
I guess, what's left to say is this.
Do what you think is right. But the moment you mess with my brown ass, your dark butt crack might just be the only thing that will be served to you every morning, every noon and every night!
That was uncalled for. But like I said, that's what I needed to say at that moment. And nothing, I mean nothing, would have changed that.
Now that that is out of my system, I'll be ok. I am ok. I am good! Ready to take on the world and I have never felt better!

Busy

2008-05-04T23:05:00.002+08:00

Busy? I am. I've got loads of things that I have to do. I usually know that I am becoming a slave to my work when I suddenly chance upon one of my hard bound books on my table untouched for weeks already. Like the one I started reading last January, Isabel Allende's Daughter of Fortune. I don't know if you read her but she's the author of the House of Spirits.
Daughter of Fortune is about Eliza Sommers, orphaned at birth. She is to fall in love with Joaquin, a lowly clerk as described by the summary. And she gets pregnant by Joaquin who decides to go work in San Francisco (they are from Chile). She follows him.
The novel starts with "Everyone is born with some special talent, and Eliza Sommers discovered early on that she had two: a good sense of smell and a good memory."
Of course, I still can't tell you what happens to Eliza in San Francisco. How she even decided to go there. How she met and fell in love with Joaquin. I am curious though if Isabel describes in one of the chapters in the novel a love scene. I envy writers who could vividly describe such scenes, you would think it's their scene they are engraving!
The book cover has a picture of a woman with short, boyish bobbed hair and a sharp look. Looking straight at me. She wears a pair of earrings with only the left in sight. She has her left arm angled at her waist. She wears a black long sleeved dress with lace patterns at each end of the sleeves. Embracing her neck is a pattern laced as well. And a golden pendant secures this lace in place. Her brows are trimmed. She just looks straight at me, as if asking intently and with urgency, when I will finish the book.
It's May now, and I still am at the book's first chapter.
I miss those days when I almost had all the time to read. I even remember bringing a book and reading it on a jeepney ride to work. But of late, time has been so elusive. And to think that I am only an instructor at a local university (read: UNDERPAID).
Once I get the chance, I'll devour every book I have yet to read! And I have over twenty in my shelf! Everytime I chance upon a book worth my while, I buy it, even if I don't have the time to read it yet. I encourage you to do the same.
Reading is bliss (when you are not busy).

Thank you

2008-04-28T21:11:00.007+08:00

I was watching the video streaming of UPLB's graduation ceremonies last Saturday. I saw a number of familiar faces receiving their diplomas in their togas, shaking the hands of the Chancellor and all. For a while there, I was excited. Probably because I miss UPLB, a lot. I miss my friends there. Then it hit me. A sudden pang of both desire and remorse. Desire because I wanted to be there, not as a member of the audience, but as part of the graduating class. Remorse because, I was not able to finish my thesis, my lone ticket to receiving that Master's degree I so desire. I wanted my net connection to lag if not be disconnected at once. But it didn't happen. And so I sat through it. Everyone was requested to stand up for UP Naming Mahal. I remember my undergrad graduation (April 26, 2001), the one time I sung the UP Naming Mahal with much fervor and emotion.
The fireworks that was displayed was spectacular! The traditional rally which used to be the highlight was overshadowed by the fireworks display, lighting in different colors and forms the dark, dark sky.
I think what happened next was nothing short of a cleenex moment. I had to get out, I had to do something. I went to Chinito's Camins where we usually have our fellowship. Interestingly enough, I was not in the mood for a drink. I was just there for like 30 minutes. We transferred to Catribo and sat comfortably at UL's. Still I wasn't in the mood for any drink.
I was searching for something I didn't know what.
Then there you were, in your black Adidas jacket, a pair of denim shorts and slippers. That was all I needed. You were all I needed to see to be comforted. You didn't even have to say anything. You didn't even have to see me.
I was suddenly craving for beer, had a pitcher of four seasons gin and two shots of margarita blue and a bottle of San Mig Light.
I went home, contented, feeling light but not wobbly.
I got inside my room. Turned off the lights, lied down on my bed and whispered, "thank you."

The PHILIPPINES

2008-04-27T15:15:00.002+08:00

It was all over the news. Director Dante Mendoza's "Serbis" made it in the list of nominees in the Palme d'Or of the Cannes Film Festival. Being the news savvy that I am, I searched the web for additional information. I checked out the official website of the Cannes but I found nothing. So I googled it instead. There were a number of hits. Checking the results one by one (excluding those from Philippine pages), there was no mention of "Serbis." Not giving up, one entry aroused my interest. It reads "Cannes Film Festival snubs British movies for the second year running." And there I found this: Eight of the directors on the 19-strong shortlist have never appeared in Cannes' main competition before and hail from Belgium, Turkey, France, China, Argentina, the Philippines, Brazil and Italy. I always love reading this. Every time an article has to refer to the Philippines, there's the. Of course that's not to mean anything special, it's only the English language's being queer. But nonetheless, I love it. I love the Philippines.
We may be a small country, but we are a great one too. We may have looked stupid in the eyes of the world, what with the US health insurance scam (the latest among the many scandals that involved the Philippines), we must never forget the more important things that we have taught the world. We are after all, Asia's first democratic country. But I don't have to mention that we still need a lot of work to make democracy work in the grass roots rather just in the halls of Congress (even in Congress, the light of democracy has never been dimmer, almost put out) and articles such as this. We must never forget how we, as one nation, taught the world how to bloodlessly oust a dictator. And I know, in the near future we are going to teach the world that we can stand as one nation in making the Philippines a greater nation.
We must never forget Paeng's right arm. There's Manny Pacquiao's too. Both his left and right fists.
We must of course never forget the many Filipinos who have sacrificed family to be able to work abroad. This is no easy feat, and for that, I commend all of you. They are, after all, helping the economy keep afloat with their monthly remittances reaching record highs month after month.
Let us also not forget those who have decided to stay. They, too, are heroes. Seeing that the battle has to be fought here and not anywhere else is as well not an easy feat. Never mind those who have stayed to spread mayhem and chaos (read: politicians). One has to just look at the jeepney driver who tirelessly brings us to our workplace morning after morning. Our metro aids who put to heart the care of our streets, dawn after dawn.
The list is a very long one. But I will not end this without mentioning and giving the importance that they have long deserved, our farmers. They have long been ignored by government. They have long been sidelined by the autocrats who think they are gods and us, their slaves! I hope, the Republic that is the Philippines will not have to pay for this.
They say there is a rice crisis. There might be truth to that though quite a number argue otherwise. But one has to just look at the rising price of rice to know that there is something wrong and that we need to act, now.
Serbis, by the way, is a movie about a family that maintains a prostitution den to get by.
I pray to dear God, that the administration will see reason in ceasing to pimp the country, my beloved country, to capitalists that selfishly see profit only.

Cold

2008-04-14T08:55:00.008+08:00

Last weekend was a lazy one for me. For starters, I was down with a terrible flu! But that did not stop me from cleaning the kitchen. Exhausted, I decided to relax. I asked my mom for chicken soup and settled comfortably on the couch. First up was Juno. It was my fourth. And it still made me cry. I know, it's not a tear jerker. But borrowing Brenda's (Juno's step mom) words, I am not made of stone. I finsihed the bowl of chicken soup and was ready for the next one in the list, Click. And I don't have to say it still made me cry even if it was my 6th. I stopped liking Jennifer Aniston after she and Brad called it quits. But my sister wanted to see the Break Up. She, Jennifer, dated Vince Vaughn right? And eventually broke up with him. Oh Jennifer! Don't worry, she did not make me cry. But Garry did! I wish someone make me dinner and say that he loves me, dearly. And into a deep slumber I fell. I didn't want to make my bed when I woke up. Didn't feel like waking up. I felt like the whole world was on my shoulders. But I could not close my eyes either. So I helped my self with toast and some reheated chicken soup. Then another DVD caught my ever watchful eyes. There was Another Gay Movie, Dead or Alive, Fly Boys, Accepted and Krrish (thanks to my friendly pirate neighbor). I gave Accepted a try and I liked it. I remember the day when I got accpetance letters from the schools I applied in. And that was like a gazillion years ago! I can't imagine how my life would have turned out if not one college accepted me. I guess I was one lucky bitch. :) I was hesitant to watch Krrish. I haven't heard of it. My hunch turned out to be right. It's an Indian movie. I've read that Indian movies always have song and dance numbers between scenes. So I picture early 90's Filipino movies. At first it was funny. You see, Krishna had a rock hard chiseled body, think Matthew McConaughey, er, Sylvester Stallone. Then I got the hang of it. And for one moment there, kinilig ako! The movie starred Hrithik Roshan (I googled him and he has made over 20 movies) and he's got wonderful eyes! Just imagine (lol). Then it rained. It rained and it's summer! I suddenly realized, I was with flu, it's raining, summer classes are to start tomorrow and I have a 7:30! Just imagine (lol), a 7:30 for summer! It sucks to be me, bigs time!
I slept early last night, right after PBB. I woke up at around 5:30, still feeling heavy. It was cold. And you, you were just staring at me blankly. I said hello and not one smile from you. It made me feel colder. You, with your almost blue sclera, almost yellow skin. Your jaw almost square. Traces of pimple scars on both your cheeks. And your hair, your unkempt hair. I wanted you to smile, I needed you to smile back. One little grin.
Nada. Just that cold stare, blank and cold.
*Sniff*

As often as I could

2008-04-11T15:34:00.000+08:00

And by "as often as I could" I dont mean every five minutes... Corny, I know. It sucks to be me!

AdSense

2008-04-11T15:29:00.002+08:00

I recently checked my AdSense account (read: 10 seconds ago). Of course, I did not expect to see over a hundred dollars there. I also did not expect these words from my friend: "Huh? Chene gale kien tan visit di tu yu blog???" OUch, bigs time (Marvs, borrow ha)! Anyway, I am back! And I intend to update this as often as I could! :)

Of Cement Benches, Lamp Posts, Waves and Balot

2007-12-07T11:16:00.000+08:00

Zamboanga City's boulevard, I must admit, is not the best in the world. It's not even the best in the Philippines. But it's the only one we've got around here. And it has a million stories to tell. If only those white paint colored cement benches could talk, it could tell of men who promised the moon, the full moon, and the stars littered in the dark, dark sky to win the hearts of women. If only those lamp posts could speak, it could tell of those who found light and reason to go on and move on. If only those rough rocks mossed by the rushing waves from Basilan Strait could talk, it could tell of the countless souls who have searched for answers. If only the sea itself could talk, it could tell of those who have breathed its salty breeze to find peace, to find meaning.

Last Saturday night...

Yes, dot dot dot! I was looking at my posts here and saw this draft. I can't remember which Saturday night I was to refer to.

Besides, there have been too many Saturday nights I want to forget! Too many I want to bury. Too many I want those waves to crush on those mossed and sharp rocks .

From now on, no more blue musings. Oh, I just crossed my fingers. :)

The Marathon

2007-12-05T13:59:00.000+08:00

The Ateneo Fiesta 2007, dubbed AtFest07, kicked off last Friday, November 30, 2007. The opening event was the traditional 5-kilometer run. This was from the waterpool in Pasonanca to the La Purisima Campus of Ateneo. Over forty joined the event. I was one of those who arrived at a little past five am. It was to start at 5 a.m.

But I was lucky because the run started late! I failed to prepare for the event. I wasn't there to win anyway. I was there to prove to myself that I can do it. That I have the balls to run the 5 kilometers in short shorts and a pair of pink socks! :) I don't have to say that I didn't win. I did not even figure in the top ten! It took me 34 minutes to finish the race sans water, sans rest! I ran, actually more like jogged! I enjoyed it. I really did. Father Tony, the Father President, also joined the marathon. Even grade schoolers were there. And those kids were amazing! You should have seen them running like mice! They were fast! I'm not sure if two of them outran me, but someone from their group did, that I am sure of!

When I reached the finish line, I was looking for Lito who was covering the event on a bike. He was carrying my pink bag. Yes, apart from my socks which were pink, my bag was also pink. :)

He was nowhere to be found. Apparently, he had a flat tire. So, I was roaming around the campus in those short shorts. I didn't care anyway. I was just worried about the wet shirt I was wearing. It wasn't pink! Though I brought one. I was to wear the shirt of the team I was representing, the Faculty and Staff. It's gray. Oh well, at least I had my bag and socks. :)

Finally, after waiting for a little over thirty minutes, Lito arrived with my bag. I changed clothes, got into a pair of pants and a pink superman shirt, all too ready for the parade.

It was, well, a memory I'd want to come back to someday. When everyone and everything seem to run after me, I will just have to go back to the Marathon and relive it. I faced it, I ran for it and I finished it!

I placed eleventh. :)

Go to ateneofiesta.com to check out AtFest07.

-sigh-

2007-11-08T11:40:00.000+08:00

Tonight, I will fall into a deep slumber, hoping never to wake up. And tomorrow, I will open my eyes, already aware that never is a myth. I told myself never to make this same mistake, but here I am lost, hurt and hopeless, again.

--i was supposed to watch episode 4 of A Beautiful Life last night-- ;-(

Simplicity is Bliss

2007-10-15T08:49:00.000+08:00

That is a gumamela that you see. I took it on October 11, bisperas del Zamboanga Hermosa Festival. It was on display in the botanical show in Plaza Pershing. Every time I look at this, it never fails to amaze me. A gumamela is pretty too, especially this one. I have bubbly memories on gumamela. We used to pick this flower, pound it until its sticky juice becomes inviting. We prepare in some separate container a soap and water solution. We mix this with the pounded gumamela and get ourselves a stick from the walis tingting, make a loop at its soft end. And have a bubble party! Oh joy! But seeing this gumamela, I don't have the heart to pound it. It' s so pretty. This is one proof that the beautiful things in life are those that are simple. Pure joy!
Like this other photo. We went to Zamboanga's boulevard to have balot. Life can't get any better than this. I couldn't simply find the words to express the joy I felt that day.
It's not really the balot. Any given day, any given time, any given place, if you are with your closest friends, that's pure bliss. And it's amazing really. Who ever knew that we would meet and be friends and have that balot session in the boulevard?

Heroes

2007-10-04T11:49:00.001+08:00

Alighting from the pedicab, I was thinking of what to write about today. I thought of Sunshine's manna from heaven (read: bird poop) that she got last night would be funny. Writing that she indulged in treating me to Dunkin's bunwich after the incident would have been enough gratitude from my end. Squinting at the bright day, I rode a tricycle that dropped two ladies (one in her late thirties and the other probably her mother, an octogenarian) right in front of me. I asked the driver to bring me to Ateneo then he asked whether in Purisima or Tumaga. As I was about to say Purisima, he quickly added "and how much ?" I said 30. Then he started the tryke and off we went to Ateneo. I was still wondering what to write about. As we were nearing the Manaog Church near the Tumaga Bridge, I noticed a bit of a traffic jam. There were vehicles lined up in the other lane, all sorts of vehicles. There were PUJs, tricycles, and a few cars. I also saw two uniformed men from the army near the entrance of the Church. There were also ladies crowded near the same entrance. They seemed to be teachers of a high school as their uniform suggested. Then there seemed to be a flag carried by, again, men in uniform. I realized that they were carrying a coffin draped with the Philippine Flag. He probably was one of the four men who had an encounter with the Abu Sayyaf recently, the man in inside that is. The coffin was cream in color, a mixture of yellow and dirty white. There were a few delicate carvings that seemed to be flowers, but I wasn't sure because the tryke was starting to speed up. It seemed small, the coffin. He could not have been taller than 5'4". He probably had dark skin, browned by the many hours that he might have spent under sun in some coast of Basilan. I could see him chatting with his comrades, probably wondering when they would be home. I suddenly felt like I was drowning in doldrums.
The government's stand to eliminate the Abu Sayyaf is totally understandable. It's stand that peace will be attained once it will win this war is one pill I cannot swallow. They say that the government shouldn't go to war if it's not sure it's going to win. I disagree. Nobody wins in a war. Granting that the Abu Sayyaf will be eliminated, every one of its members, doesn't the government think that there will be a number who will be more than willing to continue what the Abu Sayyaf has started and see to fruition its mission?
So long as there are parents who will not let their daughter marry her boyfriend because he happens to be Muslim and so long as there are parents who will not let their daughter marry her boyfriend because he is Christian, I don't think we will ever solve this problem. I don't think we will ever win this one.

Commuting

2007-10-03T10:19:00.000+08:00

Our professor in Criminal Law announced Monday night that we were to meet for three hours on Tuesday. Armed with the 21 Aggravating circumstances provided in Article XIV of the RPC, I went to class early. Don't worry, this is not about our class. He didn't meet us, after waiting for him for over an hour. So that was an unproductive night, a lazy night. I usually commute in going home. From school, I take a jeep to the pueblo. Once there, I'd take an 8-minute walk to the jeep terminal of Tumaga (this is where I live, Barangay Tumaga). I am usually with Eve and Shine (two of my closest buds in law school) gladly taking advantage of public transportation. The 8-minute walk includes a constant watch over our heads and shoulders. The electric wires in the pueblo are squatted by hundreds of birds. They line up in those wires, making them the elegant king-sized bed of Queen Marie Antoinette. We cover our mouths every time we laugh at something funny. Nobody wants bird-poop dropped in their mouths, fresh and warm! I wonder when these birds are going to leave the pueblo for good. From the looks of it, they don't have any plans of leaving. I also try to stay away from big crowds. It's almost fiesta, so bomb threats are flooding, literally. I think we had 3 in the last two months, explosions, not just threats. Reaching the terminal is a security blanket. Once there, I still am vigilant, constantly looking for unattended bags, both plastic and not. These days, we can never be too careful. Last night there was this girl in the jeep. She was so annoying. She was sitting beside her friend Ryan. You could see that she was flirting with him. She was wearing this dirty white baby tee, a pair of faded jeans and a pair of sneakers, a wanting imitation of chucks. She was thin, really thin. She had thick lips and big eyes. She was brown. And boy, was she bubbly! The kind that will suffocate you. Ryan was seated to her right. He just nodded to practically everything what this girl was saying. I was in front of them, by the way. Ryan was in a white polo with a faded undershirt, obviously a school uniform. A pair of slacks, which were obviously well ironed, and a pair of mudded black leather shoes. He had a growing mustache and a boyish smile. Astonishingly, he had perfect teeth and nice red lips, which made me conclude that he doesn't smoke. No wonder this girl was going gaga over him. Finally, we reached the girl's stop and she bid goodbye to Ryan and not hearing her, called out his name girlishly. That's it, good riddance. It seemed a relief more to me than to him. But Ryan didn't mind it at all. He never got annoyed with the girl. He smiled when he needed, nodded when their conversation called for it and laughed, quite unabashedly, when told a joke. For the record, I wasn't eavesdropping. He had chinky eyes and he was, well, handsome. Then my time came to bid him goodbye. We reached my stop. I felt like walking, so instead of taking the pedicab I indulged myself in taking that walk. It was a nice walk. Picture a full moon and star-filled and star-lit sky and you, basking under its romance. Hold on to that picture because last night there was no moon. Only two distant stars. It was cloudy. Cold. Sad. And lonely. (Picture courtesy of www.mightydacs98.blogspot.com)

Breather

2007-10-02T13:37:00.000+08:00

I wrote this a long time ago. I even posted this in my friendster blog. I think I just don't have anything better to do. Well, just read on. :D

ALAS

FamiliarFacesUnfamiliarStares
AmongMultitudesIStand
FromNamelessRuins
IHaveFound
AloneWanting.
AVisionAblazed
Pain
BitterSweet
Tears
ColdAndHard
Sighs
LongAndFull
TheDancingTwilightStopped
TheJoyfulBreezeSobbed
WhyInTormentsBreathe
TheSunDevouringItself
TheSeaDrowningItself
EverythingGoneToOblivion

RestDear
TireOfIt
LetGo
Fly
WoundedWings
StringedWings

ALAS
ISuccumbed
A
Foreboding
Painless
Tasteless
Farewell

Fellowship

2007-10-02T12:11:00.000+08:00

We arrived there at around 8 p.m. I was with Mana Suzette and Mano Leo. We cramped ourselves in a tricycle since none of us had a ride. When we reached Chinito's (the one near Village), Mano Yuri was already there having an animated conversation with Mano Ator. Before going there, Mana Suzette and I had Batchoy and Japanese cake in one of the canteens in WMSU. We had a class with Atty. Mano Jun Liong until around 6 p.m. People started arriving and I can't clearly remember who arrived before who. People started ordering and I believe the first on the list was the Chinito's platter, two of that. Some had San Mig light, others had Cali, and for some others, Red Horse (including myself). I downed three bottles of stallion and the thinly sliced Hungarian sausages didn't escape my appetite for food for the gods. I used to bring my friends in Los Baños Hungarian sausages for pasalubong (Mr. Sausage makes the best sausages here in Zamboanga City, Gregor, penge naman ng mga sampung packs! Feeling close, eh di naman nya ako kilala. hehehe.). People were having discussions of sorts. Mana Emma was able to successfully corner Mano Alex and they seemed to have enjoyed talking about the Jaycees. Mano Leo's small brood seemed to have been talking about, well, there was just too many and I wasn't eavesdropping anyway. Our group, well, suffice it to say, a lot. Mana Tyne and I were a bit worried about our friend Tony. I hope she's ok now. Mana Suzette and Mana Liza were having their own chit chat as well. Then some started leaving, starting with Mano Ator (it was quite early when he left, I think he was there for just a little over an hour). While others were already leaving, some were on their way. Atty. Mano Tor and Atty. Mano Jun Liong were two of those. They came from a basketball game. Interestingly, I never asked how their game was or if they won in the game and who they were playing with and against. Yes, I downed three RH stallion but that even didn't loosen up the air of bashfulness around me. That was my first fellowship and it was so too for Mana Suzette, Mana Bads, Mana Gleen, Mana Jen and Mano Ator (Go POPCORN, GO!). I don't know if it was just me but somehow, I felt like I was in a bar surrounded by a band of strangers. Albeit their faces were familiar, albeit their hands I shake every time I chance upon them in school, they are mostly still strangers to me. I tried, I tried to blend in, I tried to have my share of reaching out. But I guess it was still wanting. This is probably normal. I think trying too hard to blend in, trying to hard to feel that I belong, trying this hard is not healthy, it simply is trying too damn hard. I expected this to happen, for me to feel like I don't belong. I fear that I might not be liked, I might no fit in after all. I guess I must not force things to happen. I'll let time take its course and let things happen naturally. And I hope this happens soon enough (there I go again, pushing too much).

Missing them

2007-09-27T13:00:00.000+08:00

I had a hard time getting up this morning. Seeing that I didn't have any class in the morning, I didn't bother to get up early like I usually do. While lying there on my bed, I realized that I needed to change my sheets. It's been two weeks since I last changed sheets. I brought these sheets home from Los Banos. Maple leaves are the only ornaments to the sheets, and they are orange. Weird. I've stayed in Los Banos for three years and staying in a place that long makes you miss it once you leave it. Leaving it was harder. Not because of the dirty kitchen of the dormitory nor of the two dysfunctional televisions. Not even the sudden ring of the phone at around 1:30 a.m. when I am in a deep slumber. But I do miss the food there. I do miss cooking there. I miss the freedom park there which has always been my inspiration to free myself of the flabs around my waist. I miss Adobo, no, not the adobo. Adobo is the adopted dog of the International House Residence Hall. When our guard can't seem to fight the urge to doze off (he seems to be lethargic, always) Adobo was always there playing guard and he seems to be doing one helluva job, mostof the time outdoing our real guard (Kuya, peace)! I miss the lager! That's one of the nicest things you can find in a dormitory full of graduate students, lager is breath, lager is life! And most of all, I miss them. They have been my family away from home. I miss you guys. I promise to finish my thesis so I will be forced to go there and see you guys and cook for you. Love you all!

Satti

2007-09-26T10:04:00.000+08:00

My friends and I went to the canteen for some snack. Then I saw it there on display then all efforts to resist it has suddenly become futile! It's called Satti. I think this is a Malaysian/Indonesian delicacy. Though I am not sure of its origin, I love this treat anyway! It's hot and it's great! It's red and I love pink (huh?). That's barbecued beef bits on the sticks and that's rice seemingly floating on the scrumptious red hot sauce! You should try it...You can either go to Malaysia or Indonesia. But you can come visit Zamboanga City. And for those who live in Metro Manila, you can go to UP Diliman, I believe there's a place there where Satti is available. The owner even came here to Zamboanga City to check out this delectable treat. Jimmy's serves the best Satti here in Asia's Latin City!

Just saying...

2007-09-26T08:16:00.000+08:00

I was watching UKG in ABS this morning and there was news about private employees who won't be receiving any bonus this Christmas. And some are already ranting about this!
It's almost Christmas, it's gonna be October this coming Monday! I am working in a private company too, and believe it or not, we only receive PhP1,500 for a bonus! How is that!
I guess I just have to be thankful right? The bonus is not mandatory any way, but the 13th month pay is! I mean, no one is gonna give you 1,500 these days for free! Do I sound like I'm trying to convince myself that I'm ok with this? :D

Boring!

2007-09-25T11:07:00.000+08:00

It's 11 a.m. and I haven't started reading Art. 14 of the RPC. We have a recitation this afternoon (as always). Last time we met for this class, our Prof, Judge Elumba, called my name out (I was the one who was called for recitation that day). And he asked me if I've seen a naked lady before. ANd I said "Of course not!" and he asked if I said "yuck!" My recitation went well. But I can't say the same for this afternoon's recitation! I haven't memorized the 20 aggravating circumstances yet! well, I've got 5 hours to do that! I told you this is a boring day! I'm relating to you guys stuff about school!
I have to grab that book now... :D

Juliet's Romeo

2007-09-04T16:29:00.000+08:00

i confess to the stars
what once upon shakespeare's wit
juliet evinced to the nightingale
her love both innocent and erudite
to the one Providence warranted her
Romeo
Romeo is hers and she is his
But this one Romeo
This Romeo is mine NOT.