silent conversations: how i confronted my best friend after confessing being HIV positive

I guess meeting Y the following day was inevitable.

but i pondered hard how i will manage after learning the status.

what will i do? where do i start? and what will i even ask?

Y and i have probably seen each other in extremely rare occasions after graduation, more than a decade ago (damn, time flies). mostly, during blockmates' weddings, reunions and a spontaneous trip in tagaytay for lunch. but thanks to social media and perhaps our bond, its always as if it was just last week. so we never had any awkward moments when we are together.

"Y!," i exclaimed but Y did not respond. i knew Y  heard me. but somehow Y refused or perhaps did not have the strength to look back.

in a way, I immediately understood Y's dilemma on where to even start. from there, i knew that the pressure of starting the conversation was already on me.

as I approached Y, my head was telling me: lift the conversation up. enter with high energy. strike a joke. make it casual. as much as possible, let Y feel its just another day.

"musta ang malandi?" (how's the flirt?)

WTF.

I swore I saw the sudden change in Y's expression. by that time I am not sure whether or not I offended Y. yes, sometimes I say the most stupid things. but eventually both of us just laughed at it like the old times.

"grabe siya (you are harsh)." Y answered back.

"tara, dinner tayo! (come on, lets have dinner)" I said which Y obliged.

Y remained silent the entire time we were walking towards the restaurant; unmindful of the incoming wave of pedestrians and makati employees rushing home.

with a lowered head, Y was just staring straight right past through the sidewalk. perhaps, hoping to see and pick up anything along the way to at least start a conversation.

when we were in college, Y have always portrayed to be straight, had a number of straight relationships, been a varsity player throughout our college stay, and though Y have a number of gay peers, Y have always preferred to be surrounded with straight friends.

it was only the later part of our senior year, when Y told me that Y is also attracted with the same sex. and if Y did not admit it, i myself may have never knew.

eventually after college, Y discreetly pursued same-sex relationships and managed to remain straight in front of family, friends and even workmates. Y was so good at it that sometimes, i laughed on how clueless people were. so Y was determined to keep it that way even after knowing being HIV positive.

hence, it felt like hell when Y learned about it.

Y still remained silent even when our food arrived,

bothered, i recalled being very restless. nagging Y for confirmation of everything that was running inside my head. until i remembered a smart person once told me, that in order for you to smell the sweetest scent of a flower, you just have to wait for it to bloom.

obviously, i was stupid enough to bombard Y with so many unnecessary questions such as: do you already figure out how you get it? did you have any unprotected sex before? when was the last time you had sex? it pains me even now recalling it.

now, i realize that these questions no longer matter as they dwell from the past and do not promise any positive help for Y in the future. i realize that instead of accepting, I was actually unconsciously judging Y based on my narrowminded stigma i have with the virus.

but eventually, the conversation just naturally kicked in. then i learned that what was important that  moment was just to listen. no cutting, no asking. no anything. as i will never imagine the thought process and courage Y had to take just to say what Y wanted to say. because at the end of the day, the only question that will matter is a question to myself; simply about what I can do now to people like Y who may be needing me the most.

source

after dinner, Y and i went to my place to possibly further discuss about the situation --- or so we thought.

for hours, we spent silent conversations with ourselves without realizing how late it became.

I decided to invite Y to stay over after seeing tears and uncertainties fell over my couch. i thought that it was not the best idea for Y to be alone that night. but Y insisted to go home.

when Y assured me that it will be alright, I walked Y out of the door with heavy steps. funny, how I can still vividly remember the sound of the door when Y closed it shut as if it was telling me something.

then after a few minutes, i suddenly heard hard knocks on my door. i immediately rush downstairs and opened it. it was Y, with teary eyes and breaking voice. 

"I just cannot stop shaking."

salamat, pare

*an attempt to write a coming of age short story for a writing class many years ago.

Sure na ako, Rod.

Saan?

Bakla si kuya.

Ang totoo, naloka talaga ako sa sinabing yun ni Jake nang minsang tawagan ko siya. Bigla akong nagdalawang isip kung itutuloy ko pa ang balak ko.

Kababalik ko lang nun fresh from the city of pines para sa halos isang buwang sem break. At siyempre, isa siya sa mga agad ko’ng tinawagan para tagpuin. Hindi na nga kami nagkabosesan. Matagal-tagal na din kasi ng huli kaming nag-usap. Alam mo na, busy sa college life, adjustments and all that. Lalo na sa mga pagbabagong narealize ko duon. Ang tanda ko na nga, may mga realizations nang nagaganap.

Nagulat ako nang makita ko si Jake. Bigla akong naniwalang may pag-asa pa ang world peace. Ang laki ng pinagbago niya. Hiyang-hiya ang Doc Martens, na suot-suot ko at mainit-init pa galing UK-UK, sa gara ng kanyang boy next door look, nang magkita kami. Ipagyayabang ko pa sanang bente pesos ko lang nabili ang suot ko.

Bumukol ang matipunong pangangatawan ni Jake sa suot niyang puting shirt. Kapansin-pansin ang gamunggo niyang mga utong sa likod nito; and I confess father, may biglang pumitik sa loob ng brief ko. Pero malice aside, hindi mapagkakailang lumabas ang tikas at likas na kagwapuhan niya ngayon. Malayo na sa gusgusin at pilyong bata na mahilig umakyat at pumapak ng hilaw na aratilis. Hindi na nga mapagkakailang lahi talaga sila ng mga modelo’t artista. Nasan ba kasi ang nanay ko nung single pa ang tatay niya? Ewan ko ba.

Kuya?

Oo, Kuya ko, si Kuya Mark.

Anim na taon ang tanda sa amin ni Mark. Pero technically, mas matanda kami sa kanya dahil leap year siya pinanganak. May minsan din na pinagdudahan namin na baka special child siya.

Pero habang lumalaki kami, madalang namin siyang makasama ni Jake. Tahimik at reserved kasi siya. Kundi nagpapawis sa basketball ay nagkukulong lang siya sa kwarto. Kaya hindi na ako magugulat kung pagkakamalan siyang may sariling facebook ng mga imaginary friends. Teka, nasabi ko na bang leap year siya pinanganak?

Pero in a serious note, noong namatay ang tatay nila isang taon matapos makapasa ni Mark sa engineering board, siya ang sumalo sa pamilya. Winner siya sa pagiging Gawad ulirang kapatid. Sabay niya kaming tinuturuan ni Jake sa mga assignments at review college entrance exams namin. At kahit ngayong patapos na kami sa kolehiyo, siya pa din ang nagiging takbuhan namin kapag may mahihirap kaming mga proyekto.

Paano mo naman nasabi?

Basta parang may nagbago kay kuya. Napansin ko lang, pare parang pasikip ng pasikip ang damit niya,

Huh?! bakit ikaw?

Rocker ako. E, Siya wala namang banda.

            Siguro ngayon alam niyo na kung bakit kami magkaibigan, he never fails to surprise me. Kung may sariling mundo si Mark, may sarili namang perception sa mga bagay-bagay itong si Jake.

At ang choice of colors, ang sakit-sakit sa mata, daig pa ang reflector ng jeep.

Ayaw mo nun hindi siya masasagasaan kapag gabi.

Tapos puro branded pa. Paborito niyang brand yung… yung folded and twang,

Folded and hung.

Ang brand na galit ata sa mga big-boned at obese dahil daig pa ang baby Guess at Osh Kosh Bigosh sa fit.

Oo yun! saka… saka yung people is people.

Hindi na lang ako kumibo. Basta ang alam ko magaling si Jake sa Math.

At meron pa minsan nakita ko tshirt niya, Kamiseta. Di ba brand pambabae yun?

Baka naman metrosexual lang si Mark. Magkaiba ang pagiging fashionable sa pagiging bakla no.

Sabihin mo metrosexual, isang metro na lang homosexual na.

Oo na, daig ko pa ang supot sa pagiging transparent at halata sa itsura ni Jake na hindi siya kumbinsido sa mga sinabi ko. Naisip ko tuloy, papaano ko na lang sasabihin sa kanya ang totoo?

Yun nga din ang naisip ko. Pero ito, pare, madalas kapag gabi, tuwing pinipick up ko yung extension ng telepono sa taas. Nahuhuli ko siyang laging may kausap na lalake.

Lalo akong kinabahan. Mukhang aagawin pa ata ni Mark ang moment ko. 

Baka naman best friend niya.

E, Babae ang best friend niya.

Oo nga pala si Shiela.

Akala ko nga girlfriend niya yun dati. Hindi pala. Ang weird pa nun, babae ang best friend niya. Hindi ka ba nagtataka? Madalang na may pinakikila si kuya na lalaking kaibigan pwera na lang sa mga teammates niya noon.

Bigla kong naisip ang basket ball team ni Mark. Kung sineryoso ko lang sana ang basketball noong tinuturuan kami ng tatay nila, e di sana may I join the varsity na din ako ngayon. Aba, libre kaya ang tuition fee ng mga varsity sa amin. May libreng tanghalian pa.

Hindi naman basehan yun.

Kunsabagay. Pero yun nga lang din, pare. Iniisip ko paano na lang kung magladlad si Kuya? Kanino na ako manghihiram ng damit kapag naka bestida't make up na siya? Sino na ang magiging kalaro ko ng basketball kapag lumamya na kilos niya? Imagine, ang rookie of the year at MVP ng school ay isa palang manash?!

            My God! 1990s pa ng huling narining ko ang salitang Manash. Naawa ako bigla kay Jake. Naturingan na best friend ko siya but he is so out dated with the latest lingo. Pero may I shift ang topic ng bigla kong napansin ang takot sa mga mata ni Jake.

Ang kaparehong takot na nakita ko sa mga mata ni mama noong hinatid nila ako sa bus terminal patungong Baguio, noong gabing nakipaghiwalay sa akin ang una kong girlfriend at noong inamin ko sa mga kabahay ko ang tunay kong pagkatao.

Bakit lahat ba ng lalaki tubero o karpentero? Lahat ba ng babae housewife? At kung magkaganunman, ano naman ang masama dun?

Tahimik na napatingin lang sa malayo si Jake. Doon ko na nafigure out, na ito na nga ata ang tinatawag nilang drama.

Naalala mo si Sir Arceo, yung paborito nating teacher sa Chemistry. Di ba inamin niya sa atin noong graduation na bakla siya. Tingin mo ba malalaman nating bakla siya kundi niya sinabi? At wala namang nagbago. Siya pa rin ang paborito nating teacher nun, ‘di ba?

Hindi pa din umimik si Jake. Na-isnab ang ganda ng Lola Arceo ko. 

E, si tito Mike, yung engineer na kasama nila papa sa firm. Si Dr. Uy yung doctor ng papa mo noon. Di ba bakla din---.

            Natigil ang eksenadorang speech ko nang nakita kong nakatingin na lang sa akin si Jake. Mas intense na ang mga mata niya. Mas deep, dark and mapang-usig. Yeeeess! mapang-usig.

Pamilyar ang mga titig na yun. Kung hindi lang Jolina Magdangal sabihin parang natutunaw ako sa mga titig niya, siguro bumigay na ako. But don’t get me wrong, tama na ang isang press release for the day. Dahil sa ngayon, mas kailangan ako ng kaibigan ko.

Madaling sabihin yan kapag ibang tao, Rod, pero ibang kaso na kapag malapit sa iyo ang pinag-uusapan.

Jake, ang gusto ko lang naman sabihin, hindi  lahat ng bakla parlorista. At hindi din naman masama maging parlorista. Ang mahalaga wala kang inaapakang iba. Respeto lang yan para irespeto din tayo.

Maya-maya’y nakaramdam ako ng bahagyang pagkailang ng unti-unti linapit ni Jake ang mukha niya. In that distance, halos mabilang ko na ang hibla ng kanyang makapal na pilik mata, ang mga linya sa kanyang mapulang labi at maging ang biglang pagbago ng ekspresyon ng kanyang malamlam na mata. Then I realized, na gusto ko na lang tumambling sa pagiging matalinghaga ko.

Nakkkksss, ang lalim.

Sira! Sabay kotong sa kanyang bumbunan.

Arayyy… Actually, pare. Okay lang naman kung bakla si kuya. Walang kaso dun, promise! Ang ayoko lang e yung  pagtatawanan o gagaguhin siya ng ibang tao dahil bakla siya.

Napatahimik ako sa sinabi ni Jake. Bigla ko’ng naisip ang mga kapatid ko. Ganun din kaya sila sa akin?

Mahal ko si kuya at alam mo kung ano ang pinagdaanan niya nung mamatay si papa.  Kaya nga kung tatanungin ako kung sinong tao ang pinaka deserving lumigaya, para sa akin, si kuya yun. Ayoko siyang makitang malungkot o umiiyak. Ayoko siyang kinukutya o pinagsasamantalahan. Makakapatay ako, pare. Pero ang mas kinakatakot ko ay ayoko din makitang tumanda siyang malungkot at nag-iisa.

Alam mo, Jake. May nagsabi sa akin dati, na ang pag-iisa ay hindi kapalaran ninuman. Ang kapalaran natin ay produkto ng sarili nating mga desisyon at ginawa sa buhay. At sa tingin ko sa lahat ng mga ginagawa ng kuya mo ngayon, hindi siya kailanman tatanda mag-isa. Dahil kung sakali man na wala siyang makikitang mapapangasawa o makakasama sa buhay, nandiyan ka, mga kaibigan niya at ang pamilya niyo para samahan siya.

Biglang may tumulong luha sa pisngi ni Jake. Ang totoo nagulat talaga ako nang makita ko siyang tuloy-tuloy nang umiyak. Yun ang unang beses na nakita ko siyang nagkaganun. Kinuha ko agad ang panyo ko sa bulsa at inabot sa kanya, habang pinagdadasal na hindi niya mapansing hindi R ang initial na nakaburda doon. I know, minsan my pagka-old school din ako.

Seryoso, tol. Siguro kung naririnig ka ng kuya mo ngayon, for sure sobrang proud yun sa iyo. Maswerte siya dahil kapatid ka niya.

Ulul! Mas maswerte ka dahil kaibigan mo ako at ikaw lang ang nakakakitang umiiyak ako. Halika nga dito.

Biglang inabot ni Jake ang kanyang braso sa akin. Yes, may ilangan factor noong una, pero inakap ko na din. Doon ko napagtantong, tumatanda na nga talaga kami. Marahil dahil sa tagal naming magkaibigan, virgin pa kami sa yakap ng isa’t isa. Pero ang totoo, natuwa ako at naiiyak na din.

Pare, Salamat! Sana dito ka na lang nag-aral para may nakakausap ako ng ganito. Hindi mo alam kung gaano ko katagal tinago ito. Gago ka! Ikaw lang pala ang makapaglalabas nito.  

Tumuloy-tuloy na ang pag-iyak ko nang narinig ko yun. Marahil namiss ko lang talaga ng husto si Jake.

Dahil din dun, mas lalo kong naramdaman ang importansiya namin sa isa’t isa. Malungkot isipin na hindi na kami tulad ng dati, wala na yung mga batang paglalaro lang ang iniisip, kung ano ang uso at kung saan village dadayo.  Pero kung ako ang tatanungin, mas masaya ako sa ganito dahil napag-uusapan namin ang mga bagay na di naming kayang sabihin noon.

            Malapit na, tol. Malapit na, bulong ko kay Jake habang yakap ko siya, at huwag kang mag-alala, dahil di ko kayang lokohin si Mark dahil mahal na mahal ko siya.

Hindi ko alam ang magiging reaksyon ni Jake pero sa wakas, nasabi ko na din ang gusto kong sabihin. Subalit imbes bumitaw, naramdaman ko ang lalong paghigpit ng yakap niya sa akin sabay sabing,

Salamat ulit, pare.  

my valentine moves

facebook:

wanderingcommuter is in a relationship with himself (masabi lang na hindi single this valentines... HAHAHAHA)

reply ni facebook:

X You cannot create a relationship with yourself

reply ko:

ABER, WHY NOT???!!! mas marunong ka pa sa akin... puso mo 'to??!

hahaha

reply niyo (audience participation):

ilabas mo dila mo...

anong lasa ng hangin???

ANG PAIT NO?!

NYAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

the nameless

there was a voice from the dark. but never did imagined that it could be the most heartwarming thing i would received this year.

source

it was already 7:40pm when we landed manila. upon entering the arrival, i instantly turned on my phone and received a message from the other team saying that their flight was cancelled due to bad weather. i was surprised to read it considering that our flight was just an hour ahead of them and the trip was relatively okay. but unfortunately, they were forced to take a 12 hour bus trip going back here just to catch christmas.

our service took us directly to the office to unload some equipment we brought for our trip, when suddenly i noticed the box of christmas gifts for our kris kringle. i immediately looked and dug for mine and in my surprise, saw three gifts under my codename. but what really caught my attention was two of the gifts that were placed inside a transparent plastic bag: they were DOLLS!

what am i supposed to do with these? i asked myself.

frustration immediately rushed to my head and felt really bad about the idea.

first, i am not really fond of dolls. second, the rule of the exchange gift was to give something that is applicable to both men and women since codenames were used. third, the dolls are not even barbie or made out of clean and hard material. they resemble a lot to those cheap dolls being sold in the public market. and lastly, the gift contains not only one but two annoyingly looking dolls.

what a waste of money, i thought.

but after a while, i realized that instead of ranting, i should still be grateful for the very thought and effort. i guess, i was just really tired that night.

so i went out and decided to take a bus on my way home to call it a week.

if only i knew that that night was actually the start of the christmas rush i should have just took a cab.

you see, it takes me atleast an hour and half to go to work from my place. but it takes one more hour whenever i go back home. but that night was just crazy. the traffic jam was beyond words. all i could hear was my mouth cursing and my thoughts backing up acting as a chorale.

three hours after, we found ourselves approaching farmers, cubao, at last, when suddenly, the bus turned left and went straight to cubao ilalim. and i was, SHUT UP!!! this bus was supposed to be IBABAW!

sorry but we could no longer afford a traffic like that. you could just probably go down at five star terminal, the conductor excused.

it was definitely one hell of a night.

but instead of taking the advise, i decided to go down kamias and just take a cab from there going to katipunan.

when i thought i just had all the nastiest misfortunes i could possibly have that night, i then realized that i was already stupidly waiving almost every car passing, regardless if its a cab or not, for more than 45 minutes. i already felt that i am on the verge of screaming, asking fate what was that all about. when suddenly, a slipper softly hit my foot.

i looked for its source and then saw a kid. a young boy standing on a crutch and missing his left leg. he swiftly approached me, kicked the slipper away and continued kicking it.

he never lay a glimpse at me. he just continued kicking it from one side to the other, completing a laps he probably call his game. then i noticed him stopped under a dark waiting shed. an image of a wooden cart, about to give up; a mother lying down, surrendering from tiredness and bearing the cold and dusty street floor; and a younger sister enjoying her innocence appeared from the dark.

the image of them made me thought of their own picture of christmas, an unconventional one. or probably, just simply different from what i call mine. when all this time, i always think of christmas as a time full of warm lights, a festivity of bountiful dinner served on a nice wooden table and everyone smiling and happily passing each plate to one another, there they were just trying to survive.

one side of me is asking, how can someone still possibly find the place to make children? what were they thinking? if they can barely have something to feed themselves, why did they still opt in pulling out another and adding it up to their burden? perhaps, everyone has the right to build their own family to at least feel that sense of belonginess and essence of living regardless of class. but don't you think more than one for their condition is just too much and unfair?

but of course that is just one part of me saying.

knowing myself, my thoughts and efforts would always fall and cater to them. though sometimes, there are just those days when i ask myself, are my thoughts and efforts enough? are the efforts of those considered fortunate enough? if the ones they cater keep on refusing cooperation? or perhaps life indeed has his own ways from which man's mind will always fall short to comprehend. but i guess regardless of the answer we will always find life worth living for either from us or from them.

then i slowly approach the younger sister probably barely on her year, i pulled it out from my bag and hand it over to her. it was the doll that i received from the office.

probably by instinct, she just reached it; thinking it was food or money. when she finally realized what it was, she smiled, looked at me and immediately turned her back and went to her lying mother. the older brother then approached them, also curious what it was.

upon realizing what it was for her sister, they all smiled. the brother finally looked at me and said, "salamat po."

never did imagined it could be the most heartwarming thing i would ever received this year and all i could say was:

"merry christmas!"

then i turned my back at them, saw a vacant taxi approaching. waived at it, told the driver where i am heading and went in. as we were fast moving away from them, i looked at them one more time. then pulled out the other doll and looked at it. then thought that i finally had use of this gift: a reminder of all the realizations i had that night---and of the family, who will be spending a different christmas from mine.

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.

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.

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

clutter

(i just can't stand writing rant entries day by day. so i decided to gather them up and post them in a single bulk.)

i don't really remember when was the first time i decided to shut myself from thinking of all the things that happened and happening to me for the past months. all i could remember was waking up one morning, being bombarded by what seemed to be a never ending thoughts of problems, dilemnas, and pressures and saw myself just walking pass right at it as if they're just mirages and i didn't really care. perhaps, i am just too tired of thinking; too tired of rants. and as an immediate reaction, my form of self preservation, i just had to pull down that lever--- again.

the last thing i remember was i used to be this inquisitive kid, who kept on asking more than what he could digest. sometimes playful but most of time observant. nonetheless, always believed in the magic of listening. but then he got tired like anyone or anything else. he realized that there are just certain universe that cannot be moved from their orbits and stars that cannot be stopped from falling. so he stopped despite the frustration on his right and desparation on the other. but i know he is still trying. struggling to be hopeful and at the same time learning the boundaries of being realistic and whimsical.

life to him by far, simply became a bitter sweet concoction of career turmoils, romantic turbulences and personal meltdowns, to the point it already numbed his soul despite his body reactions. hes been drugged to learn that at the end, no one would really attempt nor exert more efforts to tumbled down that fortress.

thus, his last resort was just carelessly diving in and moving with the tide, trying to accept wherever it may lead him. i guess its time for him to face his own clutter

and just him for now.

wanderingcommuter

is entering an unknown space and temporal quadrant, where all his writing juices freeze and his capability to write is suspended.

but he is struggling... striving to write something.

i guess theres a number of probable factors.

first, aside from his present academic loads, he is pressured to finish a visual novel for his last semester's class, where his former professor gave him an incomplete and compelled him to finish it in a year or else he'll fail. as of the moment, he hasn't absolutely done anything yet and even thinking of changing the entire story concept.

second, its been 10 months since he has been unemployed. the entire full time student thing is fun but whenever he thinks of his dues, it definitely stresses him out, especially his credit card bills and his rent. nonetheless, he still has his pride of not asking for any support from his parents.

third, the temptation of going and working abroad is slowly starting to open up, especially
whenever he see how his friends seem to be very "successful" in there pictures in facebook. seriously, he is on the verge of hopelessness on the thought of being hired again.

fourth, this will be as simple as, no inspiration as of the moment though he is not entertaining anything or anyone either.

and lastly, life starting to be in complete monotony again. probably that is basically it.

thinking its just not his year. does anyone knows if ox is compatible with tigers? cause for this lad its starting to spell danger.

sorry, just him ranting! its like what X, in the movie boy culture kinda said, a typical problem of a 24 guy who thinks as if he is already 40.

well, don't you miss it too? LOL