Dear Somebody Up There Who Likes Me,
Another year have passed and thanks to you I’m still alive!
It has been twenty-seven years. Three years from now I’ll be in my thirties and I’m glad that somehow you made me grow old gracefully. People still think I’m twenty-five and I would often correct them by saying, “Twenty-six”. However, I cannot be twenty-six for two years hence I admit that I need to grow up.
I don’t know if I ever made any birthday wishes in the past. I guess this would be the first time I would even make one that is so... public.
I made enough money this year but am still debating whether to do a celebration or not. I was thinking maybe I can celebrate it virtually. Right here with people who like reading my stuff, with those who over the years have become my friends and with those who feel they actually see themselves in the things I write. They are the ones who make my virtual presence "real". I'm thankful to them for putting more sense in what I write.
Let’s hope they have enough imagination to fill this entire page with a room full of balloons. Oh yes, how I love balloons even as a little child. Color it with hues of mauve and white; throw in some red and pink too. And of course don’t forget the cake in the middle of the room. Place it on a pink table with probably lechon, spaghetti, and ice cream on the side. And if you’re in the mood for it, you can also turn water into wine.
I know I’m guilty of counting my mistakes and my faults but since it’s my special day today, I think I’ll start counting my blessings.
I thank you each day...
... for giving me good friends. I may have no riches to speak of, I may not have my own car or my own house but with real friends around I can hitch a ride and crash into their place anytime I need one.
... for my virtual office. Nobody else sees it but me. Some people think I may have lost my mind going to work in my bikini or to dance around the office naked every time there’s a deadline and I cannot come up with anything creative to write.
... for my wonderful enemies... for despising me for who I am and for making me realize that I am better than them.
... for my job who feeds me and pays for my wants and needs.
... for ever looking my age and still giving me extra allowance. Bless their soul!
... for giving me the gift of writing. Without it I wouldn’t have used a portion of my frigid brain.
... and yes, I’m sick and tired of dating aimlessly and living an angry and lonely life. From hereon, can we please work on getting me a serious, loving, and long-term relationship?
I read somewhere that in order to get what you want, you have to know what you want. There’s this list I want to share which I made last night about how I picture my "ideal" man. I didnt bothering editing as I was laughing like hell when I read it again!
1. Single (way girlfriend ug way asawa).
2. Taller than me (I’m around 5’0”).
3. Gwapo in his own special, unique way.
4. Maayo mo timing.
5. Smart.
6. Chismoso with a good sense of humor.
7. Sweet.
8. Kama o moluto.
9. Not polygamous.
10. Someone who can surprise me.
11. Nindot ug broad shoulders para nice i hug.
12. Someone who will take care of me and who'll make me feel loved.
13. Pwedeng Lamaze coach.
14. Tattooed
15. Earning more than I am
16. Secure enough to let me keep my maiden name after we’re married.
Hmm...looks like a handful. No wonder I’m confused.
Never mind the list!
In simpler terms, help me find a good man who can make me laugh. The rest is negotiable.
Love,
Myself
P.S. I hope he finds me before I expire.
A Birthday Post!
I was born on a day mapped out to be a free day for the next x number of years due to some people's fight for freedom. I was born on a day destined to be an afterthought if not completely forgotten by people who I think are my friends. I was born on a day made to be subsumed into all the other festivities around it.
Yeah, I celebrated my birthday today and it never fascinated me at all! I got the requisite "happy birthday"s and pleas for "libre" then the day sank back into its regular pace as if nothing had ever happened. I know I sometimes claim to be all of the three omnis, but it doesn’t take special powers or god-like attributes to know that growing a year older is seldom good news. I want to be 20 forever. That being impossible at this point, I want to be 27 forever. It depresses me to think that after 27 comes 28, and after 28, the digits don’t stop rolling.
Maybe people crave for the attention on "days" like this, but I certainly am not one of those people. I really am not one for huge scandalous displays.
Throughout the years, I really tried my best to remember to greet people on their birthday because I knew how bad it felt not to be remembered by anyone, other than a family who decides to spare me some precious time to greet me. In the past few years, I’ve slowly stopped greeting people because apparently, birthdays aren't supposed to be special. They’re evil societal creations engineered to make you think it's your "special" day - all the stories, TV shows, etc... have made it out to be so, but in reality it's just an excuse for people without lunch to leech some food off of you, and it's just an opportunity for everyone around you to make you feel how insignificant you really are to them. duh!
Yeah, I celebrated my birthday today and it never fascinated me at all! I got the requisite "happy birthday"s and pleas for "libre" then the day sank back into its regular pace as if nothing had ever happened. I know I sometimes claim to be all of the three omnis, but it doesn’t take special powers or god-like attributes to know that growing a year older is seldom good news. I want to be 20 forever. That being impossible at this point, I want to be 27 forever. It depresses me to think that after 27 comes 28, and after 28, the digits don’t stop rolling.
Maybe people crave for the attention on "days" like this, but I certainly am not one of those people. I really am not one for huge scandalous displays.
Throughout the years, I really tried my best to remember to greet people on their birthday because I knew how bad it felt not to be remembered by anyone, other than a family who decides to spare me some precious time to greet me. In the past few years, I’ve slowly stopped greeting people because apparently, birthdays aren't supposed to be special. They’re evil societal creations engineered to make you think it's your "special" day - all the stories, TV shows, etc... have made it out to be so, but in reality it's just an excuse for people without lunch to leech some food off of you, and it's just an opportunity for everyone around you to make you feel how insignificant you really are to them. duh!
Despite strict instructions to friends never to greet me on my birthday, they did so anyway. You see, I have hard - headed people as friends so I might as well greet myself too - all for the sake of, well, I dont even know. :p
Happy Birthday, Self!
Never mind the abnormal look. Photo taken 2 hours earlier at Dessert Factory. My high school bestfriend, Pipip treated me to dinner. :) Thanks, Pip! Wav yah!
Booze Musings
The days have been so slow lately. They remind me of ripples on the brittle page of the hymnal in the church.
I wish I were back in Moalboal basking on the mid day sun or just smelling the air that caresses the bright red and yellow hibiscus. Or enjoying the night watching the moon sailing on the skies like a sultry goddess. I guess that would have been a better alternative than counting the coffee stains or the silvery sugar grains on the white table cover. I move my feet, they drag like old boats on the wooden tiles…
It is starting to rain. The raindrops are dancing on the sill. I wanna see myself soaking the rain’s opulent passion. I wanna enjoy it more when the lights are out and we are sipping vodka mixes in tall glasses.
The days have been so slow and I have no choice but to waste time. There’s too much of it anyway. I need something to delude the monotony of too much time. I need a new clock …a faster clock…no I need something---an engaging element…not a book---it did not work. I need a better engaging element to break the pointless-ness of counting sugar grains on the coffee-stained table cover.
The rain has stopped. I have consumed three sets of toxic buzz and raging river and a sprig of highlight. I have smoked a pack of Menthol lights in my head…written a dozen pitiful scribbles on the sides of my favorite book.
I am drunk again. Again I am drunk- drunk I entertain my musings like a Storyteller lifts colors in her head. It mocks me like the soiled sparrows owning the cracks under the roof. I toss the last contents of the vodka It cuts a fiery trail down my throat. I can see a dragon riding a rainbow behind the windows. My eyes are playing those damn tricks again…
Yes, I'm beginning to taste your absence but this is what's best for me.
Damn, I why did I ever fall for you?
I wish I were back in Moalboal basking on the mid day sun or just smelling the air that caresses the bright red and yellow hibiscus. Or enjoying the night watching the moon sailing on the skies like a sultry goddess. I guess that would have been a better alternative than counting the coffee stains or the silvery sugar grains on the white table cover. I move my feet, they drag like old boats on the wooden tiles…
It is starting to rain. The raindrops are dancing on the sill. I wanna see myself soaking the rain’s opulent passion. I wanna enjoy it more when the lights are out and we are sipping vodka mixes in tall glasses.
The days have been so slow and I have no choice but to waste time. There’s too much of it anyway. I need something to delude the monotony of too much time. I need a new clock …a faster clock…no I need something---an engaging element…not a book---it did not work. I need a better engaging element to break the pointless-ness of counting sugar grains on the coffee-stained table cover.
The rain has stopped. I have consumed three sets of toxic buzz and raging river and a sprig of highlight. I have smoked a pack of Menthol lights in my head…written a dozen pitiful scribbles on the sides of my favorite book.
I am drunk again. Again I am drunk- drunk I entertain my musings like a Storyteller lifts colors in her head. It mocks me like the soiled sparrows owning the cracks under the roof. I toss the last contents of the vodka It cuts a fiery trail down my throat. I can see a dragon riding a rainbow behind the windows. My eyes are playing those damn tricks again…
Yes, I'm beginning to taste your absence but this is what's best for me.
Damn, I why did I ever fall for you?
On Losing and Choices
I lost a hefty amount of money the other night - equivalent to over half of the pay I get every month. I was shattered and torn but for the first time, I didn't dwell on the loss. I asked everyone who got so concerned about me not to talk about it anymore as twas my way of moving on from the situation.
You see, most of the heartaches in life are caused by our incapacity to move on from a disaster. While most of us feel that getting so consumed with adversaries in life makes us whole and alive, I'd say that dwelling in them proves to be a lot more barbaric and catastrophic.
I decided to forget about that money not because I can easily earn it but because crying over it won't return it to me. Choosing to move on and think about happy thoughts was a decision I knew I had to make otherwise it'll only shatter this excitement I feel for my upcoming birthday.
Life's always like that. One moment you're happy then something untoward makes you feel bad. But over the years, I learned that everything is always a choice. Wallowing on something negative wouldn't do me any good either.
So yes, I'll brave any storms just like this with a great beacon light of hope and a smile on my face.
You see, most of the heartaches in life are caused by our incapacity to move on from a disaster. While most of us feel that getting so consumed with adversaries in life makes us whole and alive, I'd say that dwelling in them proves to be a lot more barbaric and catastrophic.
I decided to forget about that money not because I can easily earn it but because crying over it won't return it to me. Choosing to move on and think about happy thoughts was a decision I knew I had to make otherwise it'll only shatter this excitement I feel for my upcoming birthday.
Life's always like that. One moment you're happy then something untoward makes you feel bad. But over the years, I learned that everything is always a choice. Wallowing on something negative wouldn't do me any good either.
So yes, I'll brave any storms just like this with a great beacon light of hope and a smile on my face.
Sourgrapes!
I have never celebrated Valentine’s Day yet as normal people would, which means I have never celebrated it before. I consider it a day like any ordinary, mundane day. Yes, I have experienced posting little messages of mush on our classroom’s eons of years ago but that was nothing. I have never experienced having this mushy, icky feeling lovers get when February 14 comes to mind. I do not have a valentine’s date to look forward to, nor do I have a special someone to spice up the day with. I’m one of those who flip immediately to the magazine page containing survival guides for the single blessed girls. I just read one last night. Instead of feeling less unhappy because of my membership to the “lonely hearts club,” I guess I feel even pathetic. Not because I do have nothing and no one to spend the day with, but because I have allowed myself to think that I’m that hopeless.
I honestly think that Valentine’s Day is an unfair holiday. It is a holiday created by those who would benefit from it --- the greeting card makers, flower vendors, chocolate factory, restaurant and motel owners. It is a scam they made up so they can add up another holiday to increase their profits. It deprives the right of when to express our sappiest of feelings for it gives us the notion that all our activities related with romance and the like should be done before the day ends; no other day is perfectly apt. Valentine’s makes your calorimeter and weighing scale scream with its chocolate and other sweet stuff. It is not environment-friendly, mind you, with all those trees cut down for the making of these commercialized rhyming cards and candy wrappers. Traffic is exacerbated as concupiscent couples troop to their places of rendezvous. The worst, I would have to say, is it inhumanely discriminates people who are not currently involved in relationships. The sight of couples engaging in public display of affection is enough to make unattached persons excruciate in pain and feel emotionally retarded.
Yes, I a am aware that I'm beginning to sound a bit like a Valentine Scrooge! *tsk*
But seriously now, maybe Valentine’s Day is really just for those who have snagged a person from the opposite sex whom they can turn around their little finger whenever they feel like it. Or for those who have successfully won the heart of their beloved after months and months of nonstop wooing. Maybe especially for those who are so much willing to kiss their beloved’s feet if they’re asked to, just so they would fulfill their beloved’s every wish. But I believe, we don’t need to be all fancy shmancy in celebrating Valentine’s Day. We don’t need to give expensive “Holland Tulips” flowers to girlfriends or wives or that special someone. Over the years, Valentine’s Day has lost its true meaning. For some, it’s all about giving gifts. You don’t need costly and luxurious gifts to show someone you care for and love him or her. Thus, letting them know and showing them how you feel is priceless enough. If only, thi sis everyone's [erception about Vday, then the entire universe would have celebrated this everyday. But of course, all that is written here is just based on my (whacky?) opinion.
But above this brouhaha, I know I still belong to this group of unattached who would just sleep this day off but I would not call myself unfortunate; people who indulge in this maelstrom are. You show heaps of love and romance once a year yet three hundred sixty- four days you are the living modification of hell. Now that is so V Day pathetic.
Okay, I don't really care if all you smell is sourgrapes!
I honestly think that Valentine’s Day is an unfair holiday. It is a holiday created by those who would benefit from it --- the greeting card makers, flower vendors, chocolate factory, restaurant and motel owners. It is a scam they made up so they can add up another holiday to increase their profits. It deprives the right of when to express our sappiest of feelings for it gives us the notion that all our activities related with romance and the like should be done before the day ends; no other day is perfectly apt. Valentine’s makes your calorimeter and weighing scale scream with its chocolate and other sweet stuff. It is not environment-friendly, mind you, with all those trees cut down for the making of these commercialized rhyming cards and candy wrappers. Traffic is exacerbated as concupiscent couples troop to their places of rendezvous. The worst, I would have to say, is it inhumanely discriminates people who are not currently involved in relationships. The sight of couples engaging in public display of affection is enough to make unattached persons excruciate in pain and feel emotionally retarded.
Yes, I a am aware that I'm beginning to sound a bit like a Valentine Scrooge! *tsk*
But seriously now, maybe Valentine’s Day is really just for those who have snagged a person from the opposite sex whom they can turn around their little finger whenever they feel like it. Or for those who have successfully won the heart of their beloved after months and months of nonstop wooing. Maybe especially for those who are so much willing to kiss their beloved’s feet if they’re asked to, just so they would fulfill their beloved’s every wish. But I believe, we don’t need to be all fancy shmancy in celebrating Valentine’s Day. We don’t need to give expensive “Holland Tulips” flowers to girlfriends or wives or that special someone. Over the years, Valentine’s Day has lost its true meaning. For some, it’s all about giving gifts. You don’t need costly and luxurious gifts to show someone you care for and love him or her. Thus, letting them know and showing them how you feel is priceless enough. If only, thi sis everyone's [erception about Vday, then the entire universe would have celebrated this everyday. But of course, all that is written here is just based on my (whacky?) opinion.
But above this brouhaha, I know I still belong to this group of unattached who would just sleep this day off but I would not call myself unfortunate; people who indulge in this maelstrom are. You show heaps of love and romance once a year yet three hundred sixty- four days you are the living modification of hell. Now that is so V Day pathetic.
Okay, I don't really care if all you smell is sourgrapes!
Daddy Rey
Dear Dad,
I'm thankful I had the chance to tell you how wonderful twas to be working with you on the small Christmas card I gave you 3 years ago. More so, to be considered your "adopted" daughter during the span of time, we were going through training and Abay. You have always been the ever supportive and loving dad anyone would wanted. I thought you were the coolest - at 51 you were employed, for the first time in the call center industry. You were great! How you messed around with the boys at break time and how you always had this grin on your face which never fails to amuse me in more ways than one.
When you quit, I knew it wasn't the end of the friendship. We would often times bump into each other , 3 months ago being the last, and you'd never fail to give me the warmest hug.
Then 2 weeks ago, I heard news of your sudden death. I was forlorn but I never realized that it would hurt me that much when I attended your necrology service. I was in between sobs while reminiscing what a wonderful person you were , inside and out. It made me realize how fickle and short life is. I couldnt muster enough courage to look at you one last time because I want to remember you as the ever smiling Daddy Rey I love sitting beside with during OJT and Abay. The guy who would love to wear this immaculate white shirt and faded jeans. The old man who made me feel that I was loved like a daughter for a time.
I will miss you, dad but I know you're in a better place now.
I know I'll see you again sometime.
I'm thankful I had the chance to tell you how wonderful twas to be working with you on the small Christmas card I gave you 3 years ago. More so, to be considered your "adopted" daughter during the span of time, we were going through training and Abay. You have always been the ever supportive and loving dad anyone would wanted. I thought you were the coolest - at 51 you were employed, for the first time in the call center industry. You were great! How you messed around with the boys at break time and how you always had this grin on your face which never fails to amuse me in more ways than one.
When you quit, I knew it wasn't the end of the friendship. We would often times bump into each other , 3 months ago being the last, and you'd never fail to give me the warmest hug.
Then 2 weeks ago, I heard news of your sudden death. I was forlorn but I never realized that it would hurt me that much when I attended your necrology service. I was in between sobs while reminiscing what a wonderful person you were , inside and out. It made me realize how fickle and short life is. I couldnt muster enough courage to look at you one last time because I want to remember you as the ever smiling Daddy Rey I love sitting beside with during OJT and Abay. The guy who would love to wear this immaculate white shirt and faded jeans. The old man who made me feel that I was loved like a daughter for a time.
I will miss you, dad but I know you're in a better place now.
I know I'll see you again sometime.
Batch 7
Yes, Ive gone MIA again and you can blame the effffing work for it. It's always the case anyway.So I started the new batch last January 25 and as expected, I had the time of my life. There's something about this batch that makes it all the more exciting compared to the previous batches Ive handled. Not really that I'm patronizing this bunch but you see, Ive never seen a batch of very transparent people. It's like a convoluted mixture of all the personalities who have gone through extreme form of adversities. Haha. Uber cool and awesome!
I have 4 who are in a same sex relationship (Gada to Butch) and are mighty proud about it. A, infact has braved the odds about the relationship for 8 years now. Beat that! I have one cheating (yes, she has an affair) mom with five kids whose "houseband" is a monumental pain in the ass. I have two nurse couples (both witty and smart) who both fell in love when they were still in college and are exactly the opposite of each other but they make beautiful chemistry together. I have a traditional Maranao of a trainee who uses the training room every 12 noon to pray, how cool is that. She let me borrow a copy of the Koran and yes, I seriously find the book interesting, Im just about to finish it. *wink*
Then there's this guy of wisdom and age - terms I use to label him. Haha.. He is 31 but acts like a teenager, has a wonderful job of immitating Gus Abelgas and renz Verano and baptized himself as the president of Kappans (Kawatan ug Panty) with two other trainees who seem to be clueless all the time as his subordinates.
Then I have thsi basketball player of a trainee who towers the height of 6'1 and is effing good at cartooning, he can immitate any artwork he likes using only Paint. Very talented.
And who would ever miss A; the noise increases in decibels when he speaks. I sometimes think that because of drug abuse in the past, he has done so much damage on his brain cells that it actually has a "genius effect" on him. YOu see, he's the fastest guy in class. He'd ask very logical questions and would always think outside the box. Now am beginning to wonder, what effects those pills I took has on me.
And yes, the last but definitely not the least. P, who never cease to stun if not amuse the class with his words of wisdom. Take this instance for example when we were taling about life and problems. He blurted, "Dont think about your problems because the problem will fix itself!" And the class just went wild. He would tell us about how he lived a reckless life in the past. Hes jaunts of pot sessions and everything else. To some people, he will always be misunderstood but to the class, he remains to be that wonder kid who makes us laugh to the bones every 3pm. In one of our random conversations with the class, he said, "No, men are born monopolous!" He wanted to give his argument when I said "men by nature are born polygamous!" When asked what he was thinking when he used the word "monopolous" he said he was thinking of the game Monopoly. Waaaaaaa. He can think of random words he created like "spontinuality" and what not. He has this candid way of making the whole class just burst into laughter but in all fairness to him, he'd also ask convergent and divergent questions. A walking contradiction.
Well, I had fun while it lasted. You see, starting today, I'm off to the night shift again so I turned them over to my favorite Coach of all time, Gracie. :) I know they'll be in good hands. I will miss them. I will miss smiling so early in the morning, I think my gums would just jump off from my mouth.
In life, we meet a lot of people. They will leave footprints and we are never the same. :)
I have 4 who are in a same sex relationship (Gada to Butch) and are mighty proud about it. A, infact has braved the odds about the relationship for 8 years now. Beat that! I have one cheating (yes, she has an affair) mom with five kids whose "houseband" is a monumental pain in the ass. I have two nurse couples (both witty and smart) who both fell in love when they were still in college and are exactly the opposite of each other but they make beautiful chemistry together. I have a traditional Maranao of a trainee who uses the training room every 12 noon to pray, how cool is that. She let me borrow a copy of the Koran and yes, I seriously find the book interesting, Im just about to finish it. *wink*
Then there's this guy of wisdom and age - terms I use to label him. Haha.. He is 31 but acts like a teenager, has a wonderful job of immitating Gus Abelgas and renz Verano and baptized himself as the president of Kappans (Kawatan ug Panty) with two other trainees who seem to be clueless all the time as his subordinates.
Then I have thsi basketball player of a trainee who towers the height of 6'1 and is effing good at cartooning, he can immitate any artwork he likes using only Paint. Very talented.
And who would ever miss A; the noise increases in decibels when he speaks. I sometimes think that because of drug abuse in the past, he has done so much damage on his brain cells that it actually has a "genius effect" on him. YOu see, he's the fastest guy in class. He'd ask very logical questions and would always think outside the box. Now am beginning to wonder, what effects those pills I took has on me.
And yes, the last but definitely not the least. P, who never cease to stun if not amuse the class with his words of wisdom. Take this instance for example when we were taling about life and problems. He blurted, "Dont think about your problems because the problem will fix itself!" And the class just went wild. He would tell us about how he lived a reckless life in the past. Hes jaunts of pot sessions and everything else. To some people, he will always be misunderstood but to the class, he remains to be that wonder kid who makes us laugh to the bones every 3pm. In one of our random conversations with the class, he said, "No, men are born monopolous!" He wanted to give his argument when I said "men by nature are born polygamous!" When asked what he was thinking when he used the word "monopolous" he said he was thinking of the game Monopoly. Waaaaaaa. He can think of random words he created like "spontinuality" and what not. He has this candid way of making the whole class just burst into laughter but in all fairness to him, he'd also ask convergent and divergent questions. A walking contradiction.
Well, I had fun while it lasted. You see, starting today, I'm off to the night shift again so I turned them over to my favorite Coach of all time, Gracie. :) I know they'll be in good hands. I will miss them. I will miss smiling so early in the morning, I think my gums would just jump off from my mouth.
In life, we meet a lot of people. They will leave footprints and we are never the same. :)
Big Sad
The author whose tales of adolescent angst and family dysnfunction that captured generations died last Wednesday, at 91. I remember vividly how at a very young age of 8, I grieved and pictured young Holden Caufield's quest to outrun the world in J.D Salinger's book, "The Catcher in the Rye."
Farewell, my favorite author. Someday, I'll bump into you and discuss how phony the world can become... Rest in peace.
Farewell, my favorite author. Someday, I'll bump into you and discuss how phony the world can become... Rest in peace.
Inked Again!
They say I am the most self - obsssessed individual 0n the face of the planet. Truth be told, I am more than that. I am, in fact, a freak who thrives in chaos and self - inflicted pain. So your lola got another tattoo last night. The wheezing of the tatt machine seemed like music to my ears, (twas so melodious) and the pain the needle caused my listless pulp was immeasurable but yes, very rewarding. Hehe.
Where it all began - stencil and outlining:
And it ended looking like this:
Anyone of you interested in making that skin bleed and inked, holler at me. My artist is good and he doesnt charge much. :)
Where?
Love is. I don’t know, That seems to be the best definition I could make off when somebody dumped me. Dumped? What a very straightforward word, maybe that was all there is when a lover brings it straight to your heart; that things are not working anymore and you should forget me, or say, stop this relationship. ‘Love is’ because you can’t recall that such feeling exists in a moment when right here, right now, You just can’t say farewell to sadness. But you have to. It is the ability of inability. It’s like singing goodbye yesterday…. (with fingers crossed stubbornly, ha!). Say, if a lover brings it straight to your heart…wait, Where is the heart anyway? I believe you can locate that by not pointing at your head too often and carefully pointing at your chest with denial. I’m not really sure.
I care not dwell on the details, but all you people probably know how it feels when the thing called love leaves you when you got too much to give on the line. I have loved. I would like to believe I gave something more than myself. I know it’s a line you hear much from movies, but hey, they come to life sometimes and I’m the leading actor. It is true that a scorned lover comes into different phases of recovery. Most of us can relate to this because we all are human, generic, unique, and relative.
Who amongst you disagree, please throw a boulder at me! ---Ouch, oh, let’s add uniquely relative to that.
I myself sought refuge in my strength, in books, in everything the world has to offer. I invented ways of rationalizing what happened to me. Aside from my mentor-friend who showed me the wonderfully bitter world of existentialism, I met new friends on my way to the so-called recovery. Kafka, Kierkegaard, Nietzsche, Kundera, Neruda, blah blah…they were there. I met them; they showed me how ‘scientifically romantic’ literature was when seen from a gloomy point of view. It was all revealing, and at the same time, excruciating. They taught me well, even Karen Kunawicz has something to say about a broken heart: only you can hear it. Kahlil Gibran on the other hand preached, ‘Love is self-chosen’, and I couldn’t stop myself from approving violently. ‘The body makes a promise when you make love’ says that movie Vanilla Sky, but sometimes, we have to break some. Funny, but I was happy to rediscover these things that sounded stale when I was in my pleased moments. I’m happy but I wasn’t smiling, I thought I had it all under control and suddenly Eros kicked me in the butt for not listening well.
See, I’ve known these friends, and they all exist in my head that I can readily point at and testify that we have come to an intellectual conclusion. But that was me talking; no one among them, not even my dearest Sartre assured me that an Einstein on love could bring you to the promise land of healing. You can only rationalize too much but in the end, it is your inevitable call. I had no choice, or I did have the choice to be with my real friends. I spent the rest of my time going out, like what we all do. One has to come out from the broken shell and hope to get even. Call that depression, better defined as not forgetting you’re sad. But I have to forget, rocking a chair won’t bring me anywhere. This may be patronizing but I have come to a point of realization to tell this. I somehow managed to get up that chair. Nobody said it was easy.
I ask you one question:
What do you call that time in the middle of the night when all your hopes are depleted, your body is wasted from too much booze, when you have puked everything aside from your soul, when everything has been said and fearlessly done, and you just want to stop thinking?
If you’ll ask me, I call that Tomorrow. When you wake up the following day, it’s something different. It can be more, or likely less painful, but at least different. That’s one inch closer to the promise land I was talking about.
Adios.
Now, where is the heart? You got a lot of pointing to do.
Mocking the Sun
A friend once said, "There’s something about powder blue waters and talcum sands that makes one miss kindred spirits. My friend Bill, is having a grand time in Thailand. I’m here in Cebu, trying to enjoy workign everyday – to soak my weary head in hopeless contemplation. Ah, but there’s a consolation! I get to miss a kindred spirit minus the refreshing blue and briny bottom! How crafty is that?
If only you were here, dear confidant... Maybe you could again, give me a piece of your much needed psychoanalyses. Alas, I would have to fathom this disturbing thought all by myself.
My palate for friendship is beginning to sour with every turning of the tide. Why does everything have to get so complicated? Here you go, basking in quiet conversations, little quips and quirks; and then someone has to blow it just because he thinks friendships offer too narrow possibilities. This is what you get from someone you’ve confided to, Someone you’re supposed to have trusted your life-story, heartaches and secret admiration. Some friendship!
You don’t have the right to tell me what can make me happy! Do I look like I’m in so much need of caring that you have to shove it in front of me, that you have to ask me the whys all the time? I don't expect everyone to understand nor be happy for me. Just don't add salt to the wound. I’m tired of this. Get a life! I’m not the one you’re looking for – the next girl available.
Don’t ever assume when your presumptions are wrong in the first place. You never saw me smile when there was nothing to smile about so stop bombarding me with things I don’t need!
A Note To Self!
Dear Self,
Since when have you learned not to really sleep at all?
How long will you give in to the demands of that freakin job and come to the office despite the fact that it's your rest day?
How will you find time to relax and manage to leave the world and it's cruelties when all you do is work?
Girl, you seriously need rest!Go get some, will you?
You make me worry.
Sinulog!
My head was starting to swirl from all the booze I drank. The blinking lights and cigarette smoke caused my face to cringe and my eyes to burn. The Sinulog night is the best here in Cebu.You get to meet different kinds of people. Cute guys with attitude; weirdos and their mohawks; human pin cushions and their pierced bodies; and if you’re lucky, you can even get a glimpse of hot celebrities in the party scene. Yes, people are always like that during Sinulog. Of course it depends on whether you were able to fold a Ninoy Aquino inside the hidden pocket of your wallet to keep from spending it. You see a lot of teenagers yanking their soul out of their bodies. Corporate people used to the fast - paced life, settle for a momentary pleasure with friends on a night of booze revelry. They consider this as treating themselves after a long day of mind-frying. Party time may last from midnight to the crack of dawn. What the heck, this only happens once every year - people gather altogether to celebrate to one beat. But for sure, a night in Sinulog is never at a loss for the unexpected.
I recall one time, I was dancing my stuff in one bar I frequently go to, two Sinulogs ago. I almost thought that I’d go home without a story to tell. Just then, two gays started shouting and raving to the music. One climbed on top of a seat and the other stood in front, below the former. They started extending their hands and swaying to opposite directions, like spiders playing patintero with their prey. “Play our music!”, they shrieked, like harpies, their tongues flailing out their mouths; almost as if trying to taste the raw atmosphere of smoke, booze, and sweat. I check the arena, turning three hundred sixty degrees, with an almost infinite slowness. Every face I see is different. Every movement, saturated with life. Every soul inside the night coven, bursting with a story to share.
Take "Silingan", for example. I call her that because she once lived a block from my place and we were classmates in two subjects when I was still in school. I don’t really know her to the core, but I see her every time I go to Mango during Sinulog; almost as if she lived here. This was her kingdom and she was queen every night she danced. The ledge was her throne; every gyrate of her hips, a commandment; and every other person inside the dark den, her subject. Some say she was no longer studying. I then come into deep contemplation. Did her parents know this? I swiftly erase the thought from my mind. This should not be part of my reverie.
I sway around, catching a nanosecond-smile from M. This, on the other hand, was a guy who was there, not to drown his burden in ale, but to scope the place, looking for his latest victim; like the vampire, Lestat. For those who are not familiar with Anne Rice’s most famous character, the latter is a blood-sucking romeo who prefers victims who deserve to be victims. The more dirt, the better. Pero syempre, mas nindot kung palaban! That was how M liked it.
And there's this gwapo na waiter I met, in one of my bar adventures. Quiet, but friendly, patience was already evident, the second I saw the sweat from his brow. He was working his way to college. Eskwela sa buntag, trabaho sa gabii. Kinda’ like makes you feel all guilty inside. But then, all these faces form a part of me that make up what we coin as, human. I am "Silingan", when I try to cover my melancholy with a life evident with happiness. I am M, when I try to feel good about myself by toiling with the emotions of those I consider my inferiors. I am "waiter", when I try to make up for what life cannot readily offer me. I am each of these three and a million others. But most of all, I am Sinulog --- full of life; bleak sometimes, but always full of hope.
I felt my head wanting to explode; thoughts turning redundant. I had too much to drink. It’s time to head home.
Anjo
He always had this wonderful smile on his face. He never misses class and I can sense that he was always determined to pass the exams with flying colors. He was the type of kid who was born with a silver platter on his table but no, he never showed or brushed of arrogance. The owner of Cebu Beach Club, he remained to be that down to earth kid you can always "bully" around. He surprised me when he introduced himself as a registered nurse. He said he never wanted to practice his proffession in the first place. He held the world on the palm of his hands yet he remained to be that sweet and caring kid among others.
One day, he got too exhausted with work and decided to just quit. I respected his decision and said that he had to find his niche in this life - even outside our workplace; away from the 19 others who have grown to love and adored his company and presence. So why am I writing about him? He shot me one sweet message that touched me big time. It read:
"Ann, I just want to thank you for everything and for being one of the best teachers I've met. Friends gihapon ta ha? I'm deciding to resign and look for a day time job. You've been really great and hope you don't change. Maka influence jud ka in the way you teach."
The message just got me smiling. :) You see, I may know more about the product that I'm teaching but these people surely taught me so many things that'll give me so much the advantage in the world to come.
To you dear, Anjo, continue hitching your wagons to the stars, in search for greater heights. Someday, we'll cross each other's path and talk as usual over beer and life's tiny trinkets in wonder.
Holidays '09
So how did your lola spent the holidays? Well, Christmas was celebrated in Moalboal while I welcomed the New Year with a bang a'traipsing Cebu and it's majestic corners (okay, that's exaggeration!) Snippets of the maddening events are below:
Took a dip in the pristine waters of Moalboal with men. Yes, I was swimming with men!
Learned how to skimboard to say the least (okay, I just coerced some native to let me borrow the board for posterity purposes =)
Slept with a man and a not so man in a tent
doodled Merry Christmas on the shore and posed with again - MEN!
basked in the mid day sun...
laughter and random topics with one of my bestfriends, Kem!
grinned like a mad woman with friends...
ransacked yet again another bestfriend's house (thanks Jake!) at 2am for some post Medya Noche.. (yum...yum..)
New Year's Day swimming at Kem's place... :)
Took a dip in the pristine waters of Moalboal with men. Yes, I was swimming with men!
Learned how to skimboard to say the least (okay, I just coerced some native to let me borrow the board for posterity purposes =)
Slept with a man and a not so man in a tent
doodled Merry Christmas on the shore and posed with again - MEN!
basked in the mid day sun...
laughter and random topics with one of my bestfriends, Kem!
grinned like a mad woman with friends...
ransacked yet again another bestfriend's house (thanks Jake!) at 2am for some post Medya Noche.. (yum...yum..)
New Year's Day swimming at Kem's place... :)What about you guys? What did you do when hell break loose on Christmas and New Year? I bet you enjoyed it as much as I did. =)
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