wish stick

tonight, as the harsh cool night breeze escapes to my window, i find myself staring at my monitor screen again. reading my thesis, which is a week pass its deadline, for the hundredth time. and all i could do, was just to patiently wait for the right words to come.

i decided to take a break for the warning of an upcoming headache is at sight. i took a box out from my resting bag, opened it up and saw a couple of cigarette sticks. my brain already developed dependence to the dizziness a puff brings. i wonder, until where it can bring me tonight.

behind my cabinet were piles of fresh clothes neatly stacked and just like me, they too, were also waiting.

i lit my first cigarette and took a deep sip. but for some reasons, flashbacks instantly flew like pages of the already staled book in front of me.

i remembered the very first stick i had almost a decade ago. it was the sweetest stick i ever had, no wonder i still could not drop the vice until now. or perhaps, it was more than that.

perhaps its the search of having the same experience again. the thrill and excitement of not getting caught and called a newbie; pressured by new peers in an entirely different place. trying to be cool, pretending i am not.

unfortunately, when i was already in the group, it was already too late. i was completely caught tangled with it. i just hate when i am not in control, especially of something that pertain to myself. i guess there is no longer any way now, but to claim it. nonetheless, i am still hopeful that someday i will surpass this--- that i will totally overcome this addiction.

when i felt the heat crawling near my lips, i forcefully smashed the dying flame on the ash tray as if holding the very stick responsible for me, losing my own control. but then i took the box again and saw my last. i laughed at myself, realizing it was actually a wish stick. i laughed because of the realization that i am almost a decade smoker but i am still doing the same routine: still believing that i am entitled with something before finishing a pack.

honestly, i already lost count of how many wish sticks i had and how many wishes i had said. but if there is something that i am certain about, it is the fact that i have been saying the same wish for myself (other than whats for my parents and close friends) over and over again.

a couple of years back, i used to ask my friends or someone i knew, how it feels like to be 25? what did they do during that time? or what they should have done during that age?

but for some reason they would always give me that strange look and awkward answer. basically, they would always say its irrelevant and insignificant to who they are now, that its just the same, nothing really special.

but i remained unsatisfied with their answers. probably because, i just couldn't stop myself from escaping the realization that i am already nearing that corner of my life; that i am always in competition with time; and that i would be stuck with my own uncertainties and unfulfillable decisions of staying in a profession that i really do not like nor imagined myself for the rest of my life.

at the age of 23, i was already torturing myself with these kinds of life dilemmas. instead of enjoying things as they come and go, like i would always tell myself, i tend to wonder with the things that are miles ahead of me, otherwise. i guess, thats what the film boy culture meant, its difficult to live this kind of life for you think like you are already 40 even though you are just 14. but how can you blame them or me, if fear, in its full bloom, is (still) lurking around our presence.

last july, i just turned 25, still unemployed but blessed with a supportive family and circles of friends, ever understanding and supportive. nonetheless, i knew that it was still not enough. thus, i was then determined to take the risk, to change and make this something special. so without even thinking, i signed a job offer that is way more than what i used to earn despite my pending debts, due bills and even my rent.

suddenly my phone rang again. i answered it and heard a familiar voice.

"prepare your things. we have already booked you a flight. you are going to bicol." then the line dropped.

in an instant, i opened my email, printed my ticket and copies of my tasks. closed my laptop, approached the neatly stacks of fresh clothes behind my closet and put them inside my sack. i went out and hailed an approaching cab. then on my way to the airport, i felt a very uncomfortable thing bulging inside my pocket. i took it out, found the same cigarette box and saw my waiting wish stick inside. for a second, i caught myself staring at it. flashbacks instantly flew again. but in my surprise, i slowly closed it, put it aside and told myself,

it had to wait. i still have to come up with a new wish.

tatlong mukha ng paglisan

“Ma, nasa loob na po ba niyan si papa?” buong inosente kong tanong kay mama habang pinagmamatiyagan ang dambuhalang balikbayan box, na linuwal na kalawanging trak.

Naalala ko noong unang beses kong itanong iyon sa kanya. Halos bumagsak ang mga bubot niyang luha sa alulod ng kanyang mga mata, nangingig ang mga nanunuyong labi at halos hindi makapagsalita. Nito ko na lamang naintindihan ang hapdi nang pinagsamang pangamba at pag-aalala.

“Hindi kasya dito si Papa,” matapang na sagot niya habang binubuo ang mga bigkas ng bawat salitang yun.

“E, kailan po siya darating?”

“Malapit na,” yun lagi ang mga katagang s(in)agot niya.

“Gaano po kalapit?” pag uusisa ko.

“Basta, malapit na.”

Utang ko marahil ang pagiging Best in Math ko noong elementarya sa pagbibilang ng mga araw kung kelan darating si papa. Patunay pa ni nanay, mas nauna ko pa daw natutunan ang pagbibilang kesa sa ABAKADA. Mas naunang naunawaan ang adisyon at substraksyon kesa sa pagbabay at grammar. Lahat yun dahil sa paghihintay.

Marahil kung susumahin, bago ako tumuntong ng kolehiyo, mas higit pa sa bilang ng edad ko, ang mga pagkakataong umuwi at nakapiling namin siya. At noong napagdesisyunan na niyang hindi bumalik sa barko, kasabay ng pagkawala ng hilig ko sa numero ang pananabik ko ding makapiling at makausap siya. Siguro kaiba sa mga prutas, hindi kailanman naging matamis ang pagkahinog ng aking paghihintay. Sa madaling salita, nangahulugan ang kawalan ng mapag-uusapan, ang madalas naming away. Nagagawa naming palakihin ang mumunting ‘di pagkaka-unawaan. Nagkamalay akong kaiba sa kanyang inaasahan. At kaiba naman siya sa mga imahe ng pangungulila ng aking kabataan.

***

Marahil kundi dahil sa edad namin, marahil ay perpekto na ang lahat. Hindi naging malaking isyu kundi man kami nakakalabas gaya ng iba, maging affectionate tulad ng iba. Naging masaya na kami sa kung ano ang napupuslit namin; kung ano lang ang pwedeng maging sa amin.

“Anong plano mo pagkatapos nito?”

“Pupunta ako ng Maynila. Gusto ko’ng magtuloy sa masteral. Tapos maghahanap ako ng trabahong pwedeng tumustos sa pag-aaral ko. Dyahe na din kasing humingi sa mga parents ko, e ikaw?”

Marahil kung alam ko lang kung ano ang isasagot niya noon, sana hindi ko na lang binalik sa kanya ang tanong.

“Pupunta ako sa Canada. Kukunin daw ako ng tita ko doon. Magtratrabaho para naman makatulong kanila mama at papa--- para makabawi naman kahit papaano.”

Malayo ang tingin niya habang sinasagot iyon, na para bang tanaw niya ang Canada mula sa aming kinauupuan.

“Maganda yan. Yan naman ang pangarap mo di ba, ang matulungan ang iyong pamilya.” Mahirap makipag kompetensiya sa pamilya.

Hindi ko alam kung napansin niyang binitawan ko ang pagkakahawak ko sa kamay niya. Pero magkaganun pa man, hindi ko na sinubukang bawiin ulit iyon.

Gaya nga nang sinasabi ko sa sarili ko, matagal na akong gradweyt sa paghihintay.

***

Noong nakaraang taon, bumalik ang matalik ko’ng kaibigan mula sa Singapore. Halos magdadalawang taon na siya duon. Bakas mo ang kanyang pananabik sa kanyang bawat pag-uwi. Subalit mas madami pa sa pasalubong niyang over-sized na damit at tsokolate ang kanyang baong mga kwento. Kwento ng pangungulila at kung papaano trinatrato ang tulad niyang Pilipino sa kanyang pinagtratrabahuhan. Kayod kalabaw ...

Subalit sa kabila ng mga ito, matuturing niyang mas mapalad pa daw siya kumpara sa iba niyang kakilala, na tinutunggali ang araw sa pagkakayod kalabaw at binuburo ang mga gabi sa pangungulila sa mga mahal sa buhay. Magkaganun pa man, para sa akin, hindi pa din nalalayo ang kanyang buhay sa kanila.

“So babalik ka pa ba?”

“Kelangan eh. Kasama na ata yun sa job description ng kontratang pinirmahan ko.”

“Kelan ba matatapos ang kontrata mo?”

“Basta, malapit na.” Nakakatuwa at nakakainis isipin na pilit akong binabalikan ng sagot na ito.

Dalawang linggo lang siya sa bansa noon. At isang araw bago siya bumalik ng Singapore, tinext niya ako. Ihatid ko daw siya sa airport pag-alis niya. Pero mas piniling kong hindi na sumagot, kaya hindi ko siya nahatid. Mas pinili ko yun dala na rin ng katotohanang,

kailanman ay hindi ako naging magaling sa pagpapaalam.

*special thanks to max

the person i do not want to be

if there was one thing i remembered about her youth, it was her ambition.

her parents told her, she was the smartest among all the nine children they have. thus, being in a poor family of farmers, they always had high hopes for her.

she dreamt of taking up a degree in economics and pursue a career out of it. she wanted to be a career woman, save up and live a life out from a land that they can't even call their own. but its hard to live a life when you started from scratch. thus, she also pursued the (only) road most people like her takes--- an entirely different alley.

she took a vocational course and worked as a secretary in an appliance store in caloocan to save up for her dreams. but along the way, she met her employer's nephew, a young, charming seafarer with a big sense of humor. to make it short, she fell in love with him and before she knew it, she was already conceiving their first child.

source

so she had to set her dreams aside for the meantime and focus on the arrival of another unexpected path, being a wife and a mother.

without even getting married, they decided to move together and eventually saw the downfalls of each other. the seafarer, still in denial that he was about to become a father, began playing around. while she on the other hand, was left inside their small apartment, brewing a strong concoction of frustration and depression.

i really can't speak on her behalf about what she was going through that time. but if there was one thing i am sure of, it was very severe. so chronic that it actually cost us our supposed oldest sibling. but on the brighter side, it made my dad realized he was already a commited family man.

as time passed by, we then came. all four of us; two boys, two girls; and me being the eldest now. and life flew above my mom like a swift passing afternoon breeze. it was so fast that she even forgot about the dream she once set aside. and for her, it was already too late.

***

two months ago, my mom and i had a big fight over this huge favor i was desperately asking from her. she refused simply because my dad disagreed.

i forgot the last time i went that ballistic that it totally made me cry. i was so mad at her that i decided to give her the silent treatment i thought she deserved.

i began asking questions like why can't she make up a decision of her own? why does she always link her life with other people? why can't she be independent? i guess, it was the feminist in me that added the flare in my anger.

for weeks i refused to get her calls. i never replied back whenever she sent me messages asking how am i? did i already find a job and all those other motherly questions, which i live for the most part of growing up.

basically, during that time, i lived a segment of my life telling myself, kung natiis niya ako, kaya ko din siyang tiisin. that was how far i could be when i am mad.

then early this morning, i woke up a bit awkward. i felt there was something different. then i realized, she was there. my entire family went back home here in manila to spend the holidays.

source

as usual, there she was again, living in her own world, built on that part of our house with a knife and a crop in her hands. silent, reserved and almost frail. though i always remember her to be very eager and a bit stronger before.

it always makes me wonder whats going on inside her head. i always wonder what she feels, about choosing to fulfill other people's life other than her own. i wonder what she will rant if given the chance or if she is even capable or brave enough to give out one? did she ever regret living a life behind us?

i grew up telling myself, i don't want to be like her. i don't want to live my entire life behind the shadows of other people. i don't want to lock and stagnate myself doing household chores only and that i will never allow love to hinder me from achieving my dreams. i want to live my life to the fullest. i want to be as successful as i can be until i will be remembered.

suddenly, she turned on my direction and caught me just staring at her. i was literally dumbstruck in that moment. for the first time, i couldn't think of anything that would get me out of that awkward situation. for i still want her to believe that i am still not okay and that i am still mad at her.

but then she smiled at me. something she rarely does and that completely swept away all the grudges i have for her. then she wrapped it all up by saying, "kumain ka na? pinagluto kita ng sinigang na baboy. tinanggalan ko na din yan ng buto para hindi mo na himayin tulad ng gusto mo"

i never thought, she knew. although it was a given fact in the family that sinigang is my favorite dish (probably because, for me, my mom cooks the best sinigang like all other children will say about their mother).and compare to other kids who usually separate the fat part from the meat, i on the other hand, would never touch any meat which has bones with it and i hid this from my parents because of the fear that they will call me stubborn(again). eventually, i have outgrown this habit but never i have realized she would remember.

i guess, if theres someone who knows you better than anybody else, it would be our parents, and for me it would be her.

in that moment, as much as i want to deny it to myself and despite being taller and bigger than my mom now, i felt like a kid again.

her scent crumbles down all the knowledge and strength i have proudly acquired from my education and experiences. the touch of her warm skin as it accidentally brushed on mine, brings back memories of me crying for her name for refuge whenever i wake up in the middle of the night because of a bad dream. and her gentle voice can just conjure serenity and calmness, i kept looking for.

indeed, its really hard to talk or write something about the person you genuinely love. that is why i never wrote something about her until now.

i guess, i still don't want to be the person like her for the simple reason i can never be like her.

she is beyond any words of description that only the child in me can comprehend. perhaps, she have already fulfilled her dreams, although not the dreams she intended to be but of a better one, and that is raising us well.

source

and now im writing this entry to affirm her success. so that every person who will read this will know that she has been as successful as she can be and she will be remembered to be the mother of this son who once wrote that simple but victorious story of her life.

also read:
letter in the closet

free (boys) will

the other day, i was riding a bus on my way home. as usual, the traffic was as slow as molasses, especially around that time. but i am not complaining.

if there is one thing that i am looking forward, it is that part of the day--- going home. but it is not the actual part of being home that i am fond of rather it is the commuting that keeps me want to leave work early. for it is the distance between my office and home, where i could have a silent time for myself; contemplating--- thinking of random things.

then while i was looking at the window, i saw a group of kids in the middle of EDSA in front of robinsons pioneer. they were standing beside a slowly moving taxi, looking inside. the driver tried shooing them away. but in a snap, they immediately opened all the doors and tried searching for something. the passenger panicked and grabbed all his possession. perhaps, without anything to be picked, the kids ran and scrambled away from the vehicle.

(days after, they were identified as the hamog boys, a part of the bukas-kotse and salisi gang.)

from there, i wondered, where their parents could be and how they became a part of this.

***

a little over a year ago, i came to realize that there is no sense of arguing when it comes to religion. beliefs are just not easy to rationalize nor be bend since this is something that we carry on from the day we could remember and passed by our generations. thus, i always opt in avoiding such discourse. gradually, i have realize it is just a waste of time, not to mention that i am self confessed agnostic.

as cliche as it may sound now, i never allowed myself in losing my faith on a higher being. for me, as long as science has not yet overcome its limitations, i will still hold on to that single reason why we are all here. but my doubts and uncertainties lie on the institution that claims to represent it and from here i refuse to elaborate further.

i grew up strictly catholic. brought by catholic schools. raised by prayers and molded by the teachings of the bible. and if there is something that i learned and still hold into, right to this very moment, it is the concept of free will.

Thus, today, i am making an exception. for the simple reason that i value my freewill more than my default religion.

i believe that free will was given to us, not by any whimsical reason nor as an outcome of being rational. it is there for us to write the distinct tales of our lives regardless of what the ending may be. it is our choices, options and even the circumstances that weave each strand of our individuality.

source

to conclude, free will is bounded by the options one has, and to deny that option is simply to deny free will. thus, above everything else, denying that very choice is denying our very own faith.

major major favor

"hey," said the message that popped up below my monitor screen.

"hey back. whats up?"

"can you do me a major favor?"

"let me see what i can do"

"can you temporarily delete me from your contacts?"

i was awkwardly surprised as million thoughts immediately flew in front of me, telling me bizarre reasons.

"why?"

"i'll call you. i'll explain it over the phone."

after a while, my phone rang. i answered it and heard a very uncertain voice; almost doubtful of whether he will say it or not. but i guess, cornered with the situation, he attempted. at least, he tried.

i knew M online. though we were never that close, we check each other once in a while and its been ages since we last did. so i was really interested on what M is going to say.

"can you check someone for me? but he shouldn't know that we know each other."

"how do you want me to check him?"

"pretend as if you are someone."

"someone like what?"

fillers. silence. more fillers.

i knew it was beginning to be uncomfortable for M. though a bit confused, i asked for the person's name and checked his digital prints.

"i just want you to pretend as if you are someone filthy capable of offering him an indecent proposal. i just want to know if he will bite it."

i felt as if something cold rushed to my head, screaming, HUWAAAATTTT??!!! but i figured i have to hear him out.

"i guess, he is a model?"

"yes."

"PLU?"

"no."

"hmmmm....so what am i going to do with him again?"

"alright. i'll be honest. i am currently managing him. but i have my doubts."

"doubts of what?"

"that he is using me?"

"you already slept with him, noh?"

silence.

"and now, you are developing feelings for him na din?"

longer and more awkward silence.

"how did you know?"

"booking."

"you had the same experience?"

"im referring to the movie."

"does he know?"

"i guess so.why are you making this favor so tough?"

"dude, of course. i need to know everything."

"alright, yes."

"why?"

M already refused to answer my questions.

"i cannot promise you anything. but let me see what i can do."

besides, my job has landed me to worst and i don't think it will hurt that much anymore especially if i am doing it for a friend.

***

but after we ended the call, it really made me think about it.

denial

sometimes, just like a shape sorter toy, regardless of how we force ourselves in the picture, how we fight for us to belong in the same frame and how we struggle and wish to be another , we simply just can't.

for the simple reason that we are who we are. instead of drowning ourselves with frustrations, we should learn how to plow the best out from it.

depression

i can sense that M totally understand this: that regardless of how perfect the picture maybe inside his head and how marvelous tomorrow maybe for them, the realization will still hit him that what M wants only serves himself and that M is silly to believe that M would eventually be accepted and appreciated, more than what he is receiving now.

its paradoxical how they are completely different despite being the same.

anger

M knows, this is just plain business. that what happened to both of them could probably be the guy's ways of gaining his real intentions. but M still insists.

why?

bargaining

because M believes that it is no longer the possibility that matters now. what he only wants is the guy's better welfare, that he will be a good husband and father to his family. M is no longer expecting anything in return. M just wants to be the good Samaritan to him, his angel, to put it on his words.

but at the end of the day, i only hope that when the lights are turned off and silence starts to creep in, this fulfillment will be enough to cradle his loneliness to sleep.

and

acceptance... to follow.