nostalgia

first is the dream. next, we encounter routines. then choice follows. finally, we meet our considerations.
but if our considerations overruled our choice, we end up dreaming again.
***
you wake up bathing with sweat.
even your eyes still half close, you instantly reached your phone; already knew where it was even if it roamed all over your bed the entire night.

you checked for some messages and missed calls. then reply to them with the least sense you could pull out from your head. the dream is still fresh. it messes itself with reality. but you wanted to remember it and don't want to forget just like the rest. hence, you held on it.

after realizing you are no longer dreaming, you get out of your bed and head to the toilet.
after you're regime, you go back to your cradle and turn the tv on.

you scan for any interesting show in a typical afternoon.
once settled, you open your laptop and check for any emails. you surf for a number of websites until your tummy pleads, that becomes your queue.
you then decide to put your slippers and hit the streets. you drag yourself in search for a place that you haven't eaten yet. but the choices are thin, especially if you are living in the same place for the last four years.

source

after taming your stomach, you then return back home. sadden with the realization that you have no place else to go.
while walking, you'll calculate how many hours left (like you usually do) before you go to work again. once you have determined it, you'll squeeze yourself out for something worthwhile doing. but the prize is as scarce as a diamond in a pile of broken glasses. so at the end, you find yourself forced to watch either a movie that you have already seen for the sixth time or daisy siete when worst comes to worst.
by the time you need to prepare for work, that is the moment that you'll start bargaining for another 15 minutes with yourself. chances are, if the diligent ego wins, you will have an extra 30 minutes to smoke before going to work. but if the stubborn-you wins, you'll lose another 200 php for the taxi fare.
then after a long day of work, you'll find yourself exhausted from walking and commuting towards home--- alone.
nothing in mind but to lay down on your bed and sleep until you never wake up again. until you dream the same dream again. the dream that you again, have forgoten.
you'll tell yourself that your routine seems to be endless.
***
contentment is probably man's missing other half. almost everybody keeps on searching for it through material wealth, bodily pleasure, emotional stability and even intellectual satisfaction. but sometimes, once it is achieved, we will then realized that it is not actually what we are looking for; that something is still missing. thus, we look again.
everybody is endlessly chasing it: without even knowing what it truly is, regardless of how uncertain the path maybe.
nonetheless, everyone will agree, that not all of us have the same form of contentment. it may vary. and for some of us, we even find our own contentment in the very routine that we are taking.

well, i just wish that i am one of them, that i could learn how to live and love my routine.

temporary

it was so surreal.

never did i imagine myself getting caught in the same scene.

as C pulled up the blanket and curled to slumber. i stood up, pulled a stick and rest my back on the headboard. funny how the cigarette fume restores one's rationality and pulls back a raging tide of realization. and just like lying on the shore, its drowning once it hits you. then you're awaken, questioning every inch and angle of what you have done. until you finally start questioning even yourself. making you promise. although you know, deep down in you, that you are just making yourself to believe.

its just tough to decipher what is reality from fantasy now, especially if your clouted with frustrations and depressions. and did i mention desperation too?

i guess, this is the problem if you have so much options, that we always wished when we were little, without realizing that in achieving so we always tend to miss the best among the crop. by best meaning, the one you genuinely wanted. but who said, contentment is easy to find? isn't that what keep us all going?

oh, don't you just hate those dialogues you usually come up in your head? but surprisingly, i have been craving for nightmares lately. those types of dreams that wakes you up in the middle of the night with cold sweat. too heavy that leaves you paralyzed and makes you shed a tear. because it is during those rare moments that i can hear those long lost chest beats--- again.

as i felt the heat crawling close to my lips, i looked for a tray and killed another fixation. then i took a deep breathe and told myself,

" 'til the next urge."

i left the room, without turning off the light. i turned around and made a last glimpse of those silent cheeks and now, calm lips. so this is the feeling after all--- of everything being temporary.

surprisingly, it would always be our last since i really have to move on. but this time, beyond my own volition.

source

charantia 2010

too much sweetness in the air, it makes me bitter

HMPF!
CARE BEARS!

revisiting

A was looking at him in a distance, beneath a rusty and clamoring roof.

A inspected how genuine his smile was. how innocence poured all though out his lean and well-sculptured body. how he really enjoyed dancing in the rain, as if, he was being showered by all his long lost youth.

A can't stop thinking how truly happy the man was. how rare that moment could be to anyone. how he could be the happiest man during the time; as if nothing has the right to ruin it.

then A suddenly noticed him approaching, wide smile not moving an inch. he grabbed A's wrist and gently pulled him to the drench. he swinged A around, not minding the possibility that someone might see them. he wanted A to share the same happiness he was experiencing.

A smiled.

then the movement stopped. He slowly went close and kissed A. everything melted. then he gave A the tightest hug, whispering behind A's ear, saying how happy he was.

A smiled again.

while inside his warm embrace, A then remembered why Charlie Chaplin loved the rain; for it is the only time people won't notice him crying.

the eighth brew

funny how things are going with me so far.

reading my entries several months ago, made me realized how much i have been ranting with how unfulfilling life had been going--- work wise. how monotous it had became that it already became a stagnant routine, almost draining all the life energy in me, making me almost surrendering with such hopelessness.

now, i find myself sitting on an empty hotel bench, infront of a beautiful pool with a turned on jacuzzi above, while having a good smoke, my eigth cup of kalingga brew, and a laptop sitting on my lap to actually boast everything--- just kidding!though back in the metro, i am still trying to desperately ask friends to do my enrollment for it is only up within the week. but time is so rare nowadays, that i cannot afford to include such in the things that i am presently thinking. so i am letting my years of friendship to do the magic.

actually, i still cannot say that this is the best job for me. but i am trying to love it--- enjoying it! besides, its not really common nowadays, to have profession that travels a lot, meeting new faces, hearing different stories and experiencing a totally different breathe.

(huwag lang tayo pupunta sa usapin ng lovelife dahil nanununtok na ako lately sa usaping yan! hahahaha!)

it was our last night in baguio. friends were texting for a meet up, for catch ups. but unfortunately, the demand to prepare for our next trip was that heavy that i have to sacrifice some invitations. it was infact, depressing not to meet friends that you haven't seen for a while--- dear and close friends for that matter.

i guess, baguio already had placed itself within me that it is already hard to set it aside. memories, regardless how minute and embarassing they maybe, constantly haunt and remind you how life slowly molds you to an entirely different individual; whether you like it or not . well, i guess, change is indeed inevitable, never easy and we just have to suck it up--- hopefully, for the better.

the following morning, i woke up by a call in my phone. i sluggishly reached and answered it.

"sir, si malou po ito. nandito na po kami ng driver. san po namin kayo pupuntahan?"

i just told them to meet us in the mezzanine for breakfast. then i asked my partner to use the bathroom and prepare first, while i hurriedly pack my things. after packing, i approached our room window and made a last glimpse to the metro and its rare vacated morning.

then i silently whispered, "someday... someday."

ang tunay na wanderer...

... hindi takot suungin ang mga one lane rough road,
no barrier beside the cliff,

na may countless landslide
over foggy weather na national road!



*i miss writing. kahit kailan napakahirap kalaban ng oras!

*the following are actual photos.

child play: masbate, dangerously beautiful

i looked at my ticket again and read 5:15 AM.

it was already 3:45 AM,and without any sleep, i have decided to go straight to the domestic airport from tomas morato, after having countless bottles of beer (again) with my bedan blockmates. i have been officially baptized as the "ultimate kaladkarin" of the group

i flipped the next page and read another name printed on it. my supervisor instructed me to wait for this guy at the airport and he will introduce himself there.

when i arrived it was already 4:10 AM, and no familiar face was on sight. i tried to contact him and a man with a deep voice answered the phone, apologizing tremendously for being late.

he arrived right after the last call. i already failed to profile him for we immediately rushed towards the check in counter. the clerk told us that we were just in time, the gate was about to be closed. we only had the chance to talk when we were boarding, he introduced himself as M. he also works for the same company as i am but in a different department. he also seldom goes to the office, no wonder he is not familiar.

it actually took me a while before i was able to ask him what will his role be in our current task. he smiled and looked at me.

"i will be your BG," he answered.

i caught myself really surprised. it was actually the first time that i will have my own BG, at least for this project.

he explained that the area is relatively risky for someone like me. though i know how to speak the language, it is still not enough to handle unexpected situations. right that very moment, i already thought of enrolling myself in a martial art class.

***

we arrived in masbate at exactly 6:30 in the morning. we went straight to the hotel we are staying, reviewed my itinerary and proceeded with all the necessary retrievals required.

masbate is a province in between the island of luzon and visayas. but it doesn't have any hints that it is detached from the main land luzon for almost all familiar establishments are present there. it almost reminded me of my dad's hometown, sorsogon, that also made me realize that my ancestors are actually rooted in the island of ticao, another island of the territory of masbate.

i called my dad and informed him that im in masbate. but i never thought that ill be more surprised than him. for the first time, he was really concerned. for the place has a reputation (whatever that means).

then M told me that aside from its beautiful beaches, masbate is quite famous for its insurgencies and numerous ambush attacks. but i was never bothered since our intentions were not something political and besides, the conotation for the leftist groups has never been an issue with me. i know these are just one of those black propagandas.

***

we went to the centro to take a ride going to our area. there, we were given an option to either take the tricycle or habal-habal, (a trip, where 3-5 people are forced to fit on a single motorcyle). of course, i took the tricycle ride for i know it will be bumpy and dusty; and with the equipment i am carrying, falling from a moving vehicle down to a rocky road is the least thing i want to happen.

on our way to the area, i saw a number of passing habal-habal, that made me realize that it is really the most popular and cheap mode of transportation in the area. it costs around Php10 per person while the tricycle can soar 'til Php50, but what really got my attention were the mini buses.

its your typical provincial mini buses, where most passengers are outside the vehicle. there are even kids on top of each. actually, i was a bit intrigued with them. for aside from being only around 8-12 years old, without any adult supervision, each of them were also holding long and dark pellet gun and shot guns. cut soda bottles, attached with a piece of string, wrapped around their heads, covering their faces. their movements could tell me that they were aggresively and anxiously waiting for something or someone.

then i noticed another set of kids that were standing along the bumpy and dusty road, also holding pellet guns. in an instant, they were swiftly clicking their guns and firing at each other. a good ten shots flew at both parties. when the mini bus made a good distance, each party posed a series of aggresive poses, insulting each other, as of resembling to the cracking dance.and the same scene continued as we drove along.

but what made it more surprising, was that no adult riding the bus, reacted nor opposed of what happened. it was as if nothing really happened. and during my entire stay, as i go back and forth to the area, the exact scene repeated over and over again.

somehow, it made me remember the film, cicade de dios or city god.

then i realized, if this is the kind of child play, someone has been exposed to while growing up, no wonder the place has already enveloped a negative reputation.

in such setting, ambush or any violent attack, regardless of how irrelevant they maybe, will eventually be deemed legitimate or ordinary by such society.

ironically that night, we attended a town fiesta activity, i clearly remembered one of the lines the provincial education superintended said in his speech. he describes masbate as dangerously beautiful.

please be reminded that i do not intend to write this entry to throw bad words against the province. i just want to point out an event that seems to be invisible to the locals. i am not questioning any morals nor traditions. perhaps, i am just trying to send an inquiry across, expecting an opinion back.

***

another surprising scene in the province were the kalboys.

or kalyeng baboys (akala niyo ha?!).

unlike the domesticated pigs i used to see from the places i have been. the kalboys in masbate are free to wander around the perimeter of its owner. it runs with the dogs, whenever their master call and feed them. they chase each other and sniff things new to them.

i can just imagine how manila or other nearby provinces will look like if such treatment to pigs is enacted. vegans will definitely rule!

***

relatively, there is no night life in masbate. so i decided to just stay in my hotel and think of anything else to do. but i failed. the day was so boring for me, that it lived with the province name, literally. hahaha! kiddin!

paano pa kaya sa trip ko sa panay??? hahaha!

***

after masbate, we rode a fast craft going to sorsogon then legazpi city!

despite numerous times, i have seen mayon, it still never fails to awe me. its even more breathtaking if you'll look at it above.

nung highschool ako at wala pang jolibee sa aming baryo, sikat ka na kapag kumakain ka dito--- sa quick n' hearty. hahaha!