how i manage my own quarter life crisis

* a forward entry inspired by roundtable challenge's resurrection. 

several months before graduating, i remember sitting beside a good friend on an abandoned pavement. arms wrapped around my worn out sweats, chest touching my knees while we were sharing warmth from a single cigarette stick.

we still cannot believe that several months from that time, we have to leave the ups and downs of college and start another chapter of our lives. although its not goodbye, we knew that everything will change and somehow our tears were the indicators that we refused to be ready for it.

the first few years were nothing near what we have expected. there were always those murmurs at the back of our heads which keep on reminding us of our frustrations. we always thought coming from a reputable university with good grades, being student leaders and having outstanding extra-curricular achievements would give us better advantage in landing the goals we aimed for. but it didn't. for the companies we applied and worked with, we were nothing but redundant and dispensable gears just to secure the operation is working. but what i hated the most was how we were treated based on our lack of relevant work experience. but i just couldn't blame them.

every time we meet, we were always almost penniless, working and jumping to one job to another which to begin with, we did not even like and we even agreed not to talk about our lovelives. but what were worst was the fact that these were not even the highlights of our quarter life crises.

looking back at it now, so many things have changed. the murmurs gradually became silent. we eventually landed on the path we wanted. she went back to the university to teach while i took the corporate life.

we don't see each other as often as before. we hardly keep in touch and deciding a meeting date or place usually take weeks to do. although we both have these challenges, we still both know that we have each others' backs.

so how did i make it? through several realizations:

first, always have dream. a practical and manageable dream. but make sure you are ready to fail and that you are willing to invest a lot of time and patience in it. dreams are never achieved over night, not even months or years. surprisingly, i have realized mine were usually found in places where i didnt expect them to be - most of the time among hard, difficult and similarly stagnant places.

second, always think that there is no such thing as a "deadlock" job. although something has to pay the rent, people should stay and work for the knowledge and experience and not simply for the money and benefits. despite how stagnant or slow moving a job may be, as long as you are learning and gaining experience- stay; stay like a growing tree. whenever you are thinking of leaving, always ask yourself if you are willing to go back at step 1 in exchange of an additional grand.

third, build a career. build a career not defined by movies and TV series which are usually based on high salary, benefits, nice clothes, cars or fame. build yours based on  your own sense of fulfillment and success.

fourth, never go where the money is going; rather follow where your career goes. at the end, you will realize that money and fulfillment go to whoever follow their career.

fifth, learn to appreciate. although there are people who were born with a lot of goodluck genes, most people were just born. for most people, they achieved there dreams without even realizing it because an actualized dream may happen to be different from how we imagine it. hence, many tend to overlook it and less appreciative of what they have.

in writing this, it doesn't mean that i have already reached my goals. in fact, i am still working on an 8 to infinity shift, with OTTY (Over Time, Thank You) while stealing some time writing this entry. i have no car and i am still renting an apartment with a couple of friends who i need to share the expenses. but i am contended.

i like the feeling that despite the stress and work problems, i can still smile and feel a certain level of fulfillment whenever i go out of work. then i am greeted by a warm embrace when i arrive home.

i like the feeling that time flies because somehow i like what i am doing. and most specially, i know that the knowledge and experience i am gaining will eventually carry me to my next dream. so for those, experiencing this, just stay put and be a tree; patient but growing. its just a phase.

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.

going down the queen

"packed your things. you'll be leaving for cebu today."

then the line dropped.
immediately, i opened my cabinet, sort fresh clothes from the laundry and stuffed it inside a small shoulder bag. no more time for second thinking of what i still need to bring.
in a matter of 5 minutes, i already caught myself hailing a cab and riding inside it.
two hours later, i was already walking along mactan international airport looking for my contact, where she later brought me in a hotel in cebu city.
***

i must admit, it was my first time in cebu. actually, it was my first out-of-luzon trip. alright, it was also my first AIRPLANE ride (roll eyes to geek and toiletots).

***

cebu doesn't have much difference from manila. if not for the language, i can wake up there believing i am still in makati or in quezon city. your manila signs obviously are there: the heavy traffic, rows of commercial establishments, fast paced commuters and of course, the ayala mall.

***

a friend once advised me, never ask in filipino/tagalog in cebu because most of the time, they would answer you in bisaya (he believes, it is cebuano's way of getting back to manilenos prejudices against their accent). he added that i should rather ask them in english. but being me, i still insisted in asking in filipino. luckily, i understood the language eventually.

***

other than food and hotels, the three major businesses in Cebu are:

1. water vending machines; 2. spas; 3. foreigners.

water vending machines

i guess, "ice tubig for sale" is already long gone. in cebu, water vending machines are almost everywhere, especially among busy streets. the concept is you get a sheet of plastic bag, located on the side of the machine; open it right below the water funnel, then drop a peso. then, water will just automatically pour and stop once it reaches it serving level. you then tie a knot above the plastic and bite a hole on the side. then the rest is just gulping.

massage/spas

like, water vending machines, spas in cebu are crazy everywhere. almost every street has one. they offer a wide array of services from full body massage to facials and foot scrubs, and it doesn't even costs that much. usually, it ranges from 150-250 php/hour.

if you try checking online and compare your results to other key cities in the country like manila or davao, you'll learn that the number of cebu masseues and masseurs are winning by miles.
now, it makes me wonder if either it is indeed stressful to live in Cebu or the people are just...

fond of relaxation.

it was also in cebu that i have heard (note: heard, not learned nor found out) the linggam massage.

foreigners

at first, i always believed that the huge number of foreigners are concentrated in Cafe Havanna in Greenbelt 3. but when i went to cebu, it appeared as if the entire Cebu islands were the main branch of Cafe Havanna.
unfortunately, for some of us, it seemed as if whenever we see a foreigner, they automatically register to us as stacks of cash; or whenever we see a foreigner together with a Filipino partner, we immediately connote that that the Filipino is a milker.

you can understand this by observing how aggressive and assertive certain subjects are towards foreigners, especially among malls and bars (particularly in Mango Square).

i guess, this is another part of colonial mentality that we failed to look into in our history and sociology classes.

***

when riding jeeps, people from cebu don't rely on the signage. they rely on the number-letter on top of each vehicle: 13C, 4B, 12L etc. as if they are map coordinates.
there are also cases, from which, when you ride a certain jeep going to a certain destination (for instance, 4C). but you will be needing to ride a different jeep (12L) to go back. or that was just me being dumb with directions again. hahaha!

***

after almost 4 months of no rice diet, operation: no rice diet was suspended in cebu. who can resist their presentation? and it only costs 2php.

but i guess, the bottomline is, you cannot fully enjoy cebuano food without rice along with it.
especially the cebu lechon and POCHERO aka BULALO (don't expect Cebu's pochero with tomato sauce).

***
looking for popular place to eat, friend suggested this place, where they serve the best grilled and raw food. so i hailed a cab and told the driver,

"manong, SHOOT-TO-KILL po tayo!"

i swear, i saw him laughing at me (eto pala ang feeling nang nadidiscriminate dahil sa accent). ***
i really enjoyed going to Cebu. infact, the supposed to be 5 days stay was extended to 13 days. i consider it as a working vacation, since our job there is to pose as a tourist. and they are planning to send me their again for a 2-3 month project. but if offered, im thinking of declining. for me, the time frame is just too long.
personally, cebu is for vacation, not for work.

but then again, kung malaki ang food allowance at may prospect love life baka ma- 'let me think about it ako.' hahaha!

who cares?!

finally, i decided to take a walk that night--- alone.

avoiding the thoughts that my room maybe brewing agaion for me. i just find it difficult, nowadays, to digest all the things flying inside my head. its depressing and at the same time paralyzing.

i miss so many things.

i miss my innocence and anonimosity. i miss watching movies, reading and commuting alone. i miss appreciating small and taken for granted details; wondering and weaving stories behind them. i miss talking to myself over a cup of coffee or tea. or probably, i am just missing the old skin that i am currently shedding.

while walking, i just then realized that i have been living here in katipunan for almost four years now. its surprising for someone, who stayed under 12 roofs in baguio during college. i never really stayed in just one place that long.

but over the years, i just noticed how i am fascinated with the oppositions of the place. that despite the long march of high rise buildings and fancy restaurants, its always the shadows behind these luxuries that always grab my attention.

you see, theres no day that i pass by here that i do not cross a taong grasa or vagrant. in fact, i already loss count of their faces. I have already forgotten the names of men and women; old and young; silent and cheerful that i have assigned to each one of them. Unfortunately, just like me before, they've never stayed that long for me to remember them specifically. for they just simply come and go, without any concerns if they will be remembered or not. Thus, there faces eventually molded into a mere solitary figure.

the row of abandoned establishments at the end of the stretch, under the fly over going to katipunan extension, has always been their sanctuary. the place was as dark as their skin and drenching with this distinct musk coming out from their pores. but despite these, the place, most especially them, have remained invisible to everyone. no one was really braved enough to face the pity in their faces.

i remember, one day, seeing random things written in charcoal on each of their sanctuary’s walls. some were numbers, while some were unended stories about various things in this universe. yes, universe. Sometimes, i just catch myself surprised with such big words written there.

i wondered what they really meant. if they were about things they’ve met along their ways, or if they were just mere fragments of their memories or even the sanity that have long forgotten these people. well, it just break my heart to picture them finding their way back to this place again, claiming the only thing that they can call their own, already been washed away.

now, while back reading some of my past entries and writing this post at the same time, i then realized how lucky i am to have these means of keeping my memories. something, that they never really had. if only they can, i bet they can tell us one of the best stories ever been told to man, rather than these petty juvenile concerns that swarm us everyday. oh, if only they could be heard.

but who does? if in this selfless world, people would just refuse to listen, believing that the only things that matter and important, are there own lives revolving around how many times they’ve got laid and how much they have in their accounts.

if only these vagrants can read these notes. i bet, their immediate reactions will also be, who cares?!

x

Naramdaman ko ang sandaling pagtigil ng oras nang magtagpo ang aming tingin, ni hindi ko nagawang iahon ang sarili mula sa pagkalunod sa lamlam at lalim ng kanyang mga mata, na tila may kung anong pwersa ang humihila sa akin papaloob, nang-uudyok pero hindi ko tiyak kung nakikiusap.

Madalas ko ng nakakasalubong ang lalaking yun. Sa tanda ko sa lugar na ito, tiyak kong hindi siya taga samin, maging si Nana Sela, ang pinakamatanda sa aming lugar ay hindi din siya kilala. Walang nakakaalam sa tunay na pagkatao ng lalaki o kung saan siya nagmula, kaya naman hindi na rin nakakapagtaka kung wala ding may alam sa kanyang pangalan. Kungkaya kinilala ko siya bilang X.

Di mapagkakailang matipuno ang katawan ni X, kitang-kita ang pagkabilog ng kanyang mga dibdib, na parang kayang sandalan maging ng mga pinakamamabigat na mga palad. Prominente rin ang mga makakapal na linyang gumuguhit sa kanyang bato-batong tiyan. Halos hindi ko nga napigilang sundan at isipin kungsaan nagtatagpo ang dalawang linyang mula sa kanyang mga tagiliran na sumisisid paloob sa kanyang saplot. Nakakapanggising ng loob ang itsura ng manipis na balahibong nakasabit sa pagitan ng kanyang pusod. Animo'y hinahalina at kinikiliti ang pisngi ko.

Hindi ako adventurous na tao subalit ng sandaling yun, nakadama ako ng kakaibang pagnanasang hubaran siya. Ipahid sa sariling katawan ang nakukuhumahid na likidong nanalaytay sa kanyang makisig na braso upang marating ang kanyang pinanggalingan. Buksan ang kanyang bibig at tikman ang kanyang laway nang maintindihan ang pait na kanyang linulunok bawat araw at siilin ng halik ang mga gapulgadang duming tumatakip sa kanyang walang putlang mukha.

Gusto ko siyang sumigaw, sumigaw ng ubod ng lakas hanggang mabingi ang aking isip. Gusto kong marinig ang kanyang boses at malaman kung gaano ito kalalim o katinis: Kung gaano ito kalakas o kahina. Gusto kong kainin ang kanyang tinig.

Nais kong saktan siya hanggang sa ibulyaw niya ang kanyang pangalan, na wala ni isang kaluluwang may alam. Nais kong ibunyag niya ang kanyang pagkatao, kahit sa pamamagitan noon ay marinig kong ang kanyang pagmamakaawang, alam kong kanyang kinikimkim. Gusto kong dukutin yun mula sa kanyang lalamunan.

Gusto ko siyang lumuha sa harapan ko, humagulgol na animo'y hindi na tatahan. Gusto kong makatiyak kung nakakaramdam pa siya, kung tao pa siya. Gusto kong ilabas niya lahat, isabog niya sa harap ko. Lunurin ako hanggang sa di na makahinga at mamatay kasama ng kalungkutan niya.

Subalit kailanman ay hindi huminto at nagpakilala sa akin si X. Patuloy lamang siya sa kanyang paglalakad na animo'y walang nakikita, nadadaanan o nakakasabay. Malayo ang isip, walang kibo at walang emosyon tulad ng ibang taong grasa.



*an attempt of combining erotic and social writing

manang yosi

there she was, beneath the post shade, deeper than where the shadows reside

people pass her by as if she's the ghost

whose feet touch the ground
no one knew her name

or perhaps because no one really dared to ask

the lines across her face, draw pity all over her soul

though the color of her hair made her divine
i wonder where she is from?

who she was?

and why?

for her age, she should have been dying

with her grandchildren's embrace

while her sons and daughters

should have been lavishing her with gratitude
but there she was,

covering herself

with a thin plastic sheet, she calls home

weeping as loneliness makes her a stranger to words

while smile forgotten her lips
i wonder how she struggle everyday

what she wonders when she looks at time

as it flies infront of her

i wonder what scares her

i wonder if there is more scarier than this

now, i recall how funny those sticks of cigarettes

cost mewhile it buys her time to wrap her memories

funny how i spend all my luxurywhile she already surrendered herself

to hopelessness and misery
remembering her made me realize life's uncertainties

with the need to enjoy it by the moment

but never being too reluctant with opportunities

if only i could thank her today

are these for real?

noong una, ito lang ang paalala nila:

pero ngayon lumelebel at chumi-cheesy na sila:

may mga supporters pa.

love (heart) emo

hulaan niyo kung sino si dabo dyan.

may prize ang makahula. hahaha!

pero above all, super nabother ako sa news clip na ito

shit andami kong friend

ang hindi mapapatay kung ganun.

buti na lang! hahaha!

the street raconteur

they walk under the cloak of darkness. nourishing their frailing bodies with deep breathe of sweet grease. but no matter how they extend their arms to every shadow that passes infront, it seemed like they still remain invisible from them.

source

everyday i see these three vagabonds infront of an abandon ruin, either sitting beside time or sleeping their hunger away. but despite their silence, i still hear their tragic stories. i feel the turmoils of every single drop of pity they receive. despite being the only true raconteur of this fast and apathetic realm. painting life with their pungent scent and mixing the remaining flavors of humanity.

but when all the sufferings could no longer be hold and the only thing left was hopelessness, someone finally heed their plead. tears began to fall, carrying the promise of cleansing the grime of human selfishness. it was so abrupt that no one even thought of building an arc. as if nothing was really meant to survive.

source

then suddenly, after the indolences and differences were washed away, everyone started claiming their were them. they started mimicing the same melancholic rhythms with their own tales, begging for the same appeals and stretching the same arms. nonetheless, they were heard.

source

at last, everyone heard their stories; discovered and showed what care is all about. now they could finally say that their tale already reached its final page.

but yesterday, three weeks after the catastrophe, i passed by the same ruins and noticed it empty. i wondered, where they are? where they have been at the time when everyone has no place to go, even in the ruins? if the slightest care even reached them? or if after everything that happened, they simply left, still without other people noticing them.

source

in memory of those, whose names were not known.

zambales: even before ondoy and peping

even before ondoy and peping, i already had my fair share of the struggle. that although, my place was not directly hit by both tragedies, i was able to experience how it feels like to find your way in these kinds of catastrophies.

two weeks before ondoy hit metro manila, i was on my way to the provinces of bataan and zambales for my research. i was able to finish bataan with no hassle. but when i reached olonggapo city and looked for a bus trip to botolan, i noticed that there were no direct trips going there, which i find odd.

the bus driver informed me that the bridge that connects carael and botolan was not passable, that they are even under a state of calamity due to the previous typhoon that hit it. nonetheless, he assured me that i'll still be able to reach botolan, one way or another. being the naive traveller me, i believed him.

it was more than a couple of hours trip. there were even times that i couldn't feel either my ass or balls anymore. there was a lola with a baby, who rode along with us. and the baby, perhaps 8 months old, was crying on the top of her throat despite the attention and the collective efforts of everyone inside the bus in calming her. we later on suspect that the baby is hungry. unfortunately, the magaling na lola actually forgot her grandchild's milk bottle. i wondered, sino ang makakalimot ng dede kapag may dala kang bata sa byahe. but i thought, siguro ulyanin na din si lola.

we already lost hope upon hearing this and conditioned ourselves that we'll have to bear with the kid for another hour or so. until finally, the lola broke down. she was already screaming and started begging, "NAKIKIUSAP PO AKO, PLEASE! SINO PO ANG PWEDENG MAGVOLUNTEER NA MAGPADEDE SA BATANG ITO?!"

all the women inside the bus started screaming upon hearing this. but no one was brave enough to take the challenge. i even felt quite embarassed when i noticed the baby staring at my chest. well, i pretended as if i didn't notice and hear the old woman's plea. besides, i didn't want to spoil the child's innocence, right?

eventually, the mag lolas were able to reach their destination, still with normal auditory senses. but when i thought, the struggle was already over, here comes the bridge, the driver was telling me earlier. we literally had to walk probably a kilometer from the bus stop and cross a piece of steel bar underneath a raging flood. and mind you, it was already past 6 in the evening then, with only the thought of not falling down in mind.

when i was able to cross the bridge, from afar, i saw the baranggay hall, almost half submerged in flood. we had to wait for another 15 minutes for our ride to arrive. i was actually thinking of rubber boats or a yacht (sosyal!) then suddenly, i saw a big dump truck, like the ones you hear with that irritating tone of chopsticks, making its way to our spot. i climbed myself on top of it, with the thought of always falling down. but the people there were gracious enough to give out some helping hands. the same thing happened, on my way back to subic, but with an added rain storm.

honestly, it was one hell of an adventure. considering the fact, that it took me almost a day to go to botolan just for a minute of interview.

when i thought that bayanihan, with people helping each other, carrying a nipa hut to transfer itfrom one place to another, is alread a myth and can only be found in hekasi books, here comes this trip and then ondoy, then peping and who knows what else will come next.

nonetheless, it was a very memorable trip, not to mention i was able to had breakfast with akiro sato the next morning in my lodge at subic.

work: one week food trip

sorry been busy with work...

"burp! excuse me!"

down to my second week.

why i enjoy commuting...

seryoso, nagdalawang isip ako baka dito ako nag elementary

set the birds free!!!set them FREE!!!

*promise i'll post something soon! blame it to the gloomy weather.

why i don't go to malate: a different angle

malate is indeed a place of the unexpecteds. it has this distinct characteristic of breaking norms, of opening possibilities and revealing unnoticed realities. its ironic how it promises sudden escapes, decadent fantasies and false hopes despite the evident sullied cloak of striving humanity.

after three years, a friend have finally convinced me to go back to malate last week. i admit, i was really quite hesitant at first. but not because of any downbeat reasons. perhaps, i just find the place not or no longer my turf. but then i thought of giving it a try again.

source

we were walking down the long and busy saturday stretch of nakpil. I could see the pounding music of every establishment mildly shaking the tables soaked with warm and blinking lights along the sidewalk. men on their tight shirts were calling out passer bys. i must say that they were carefully handpicked for the job. but we decided to have dinner first since the night was still young. when suddenly, we saw a familiar face, it was Y. he was gracious enough to invite us over their table and we were able to convince them to join us afterwards.

but while we were having dinner, I could not help to notice how interesting the place have combined the diversity of people: rich, bourgeois, poor, straight, gay, local, foreigners and the classification could be endless. But malate has this certain magic that dissolved these differences, to a point where everyone could only care less. I am not sure though if this is already acceptance, or tolerance or perhaps it could go as far as sheer apathy. And probably, I am there that night to realize it myself.

the place had a very large crowd that night. but my company told me that it was actually smaller than usual. a number of people approached our table. I could no longer remember there faces. but their begs definitely echoed inside my ears up to this very moment. there were vendors selling almost everything. A woman, probably in her 40s, even offered us to tell our fortunes. there was a father showing us a piece of paper, asking for his son’s medication. a mute who was wearing a two piece bikini and vibrantly dancing to each table for change. a group of children eagerly waiting for our leftovers. Until a familiar woman stood in front of our table, face sunk and cheekbones swollen, her body was the frailest I have ever seen and has a voice that scratches the deepest of our conscience.

source

now I remember her. she was the same woman in this local show, where they reunite separated relatives. how could I forget? It was her episode that I was moved the most.

when she was young, she abandoned her family in mindanao to look for a greener pasture here in manila. she never wrote to her family and basically cut her communication from them. many years have passed, but her life here in the city went from bad to worst and when she thought she had the nastiest blow, she found out she has cancer. the show’s staff tried to look for her family and bring them back together, only to know that the woman’s mother just recently passed away. while the furious father would not just simply accept her despite her conditions. probably, if I did not see her there in malate that night, it would not occur to me that the staff made them to look that the father finally accepted her, just for the sake of the show.

all I could do that very moment was to look at her as she moved away, carrying a sackful of empty bottles and cans. she approached all occupied tables that night but none of them spare her some change. i could see on her face that she has been numbed with the same blank reaction from people. Then I thought, when all cancer patients are resting and gaining all the strength they can have lying on their beds, she was there in the wee hours of the night getting all the trash and pity she can have to live and staring how life for most people are being enjoyed. i could imagine how horrible that could be.

when another friend arrived we decided to hit the bar. I pulled a couple of bucks from my wallet, with the picture of the woman still in my head. as I hand it over to the doorman, i then realized, how happiness could cost that much. how we can have the most advantage and benefits in life while some simply don’t no matter how they strive. and lastly, how decadence can make me realize all these.

as we entered the place, I was surprised how dark and many people were inside. it was an explosion of senses: the ear popping music, the humid, clashing sweating bodies and probably a hundred of faces that welcomed us, as we made our way inside. I only had three bottles that night, stripping almost all my hesitations with a friend and just allowing the spirit of the place, succumb me. but at the end of it all, as I was riding a cab home, beating the sun rise, i realized that life in malate was not really what’s inside its bars rather whats outside of it.

Now, I know why I don’t go to malate anymore, because in a way it reminds me of how my life was before. true enough, malate is a destination of escape to many, while a place of hope to some.

well, enough said.

i will just leave the rest to the mind of the master.hahaha. wink! wink!

tatawid ka pa?

nakikita-kita ko na kapag nanalo siya. biro lang!

three signs of pagiging tigang (fictional)

nung isang araw,

habang naglalakad

sa kahabaan ng katipunan

iniisip ko paano mo masasabi

kung tigang na ang isang tao?

so tinext ko ang tatlong kaibigan ko.

sabi ng una,

kapag sobrang nagiging

malisyoso ka daw..

tapos nakita ko ito:

but can you blame me?

may palagay naman akong

yun din ang naisip niyo.

kaya hindi ako naniwala

sabi naman nung isa ko pang katext,

through one's subconscious.

tapos nakaramdam ako ng malamig

na wisik ng tubig sa hita ko

habang naglalakad at nang liningon ko

sila ang nakita ko:

katipunan's masa version of bath house.

COINCIDENCE!

debunked na si freud!

so nagtanong ulit ako,

sabi nung huling pinagtanungan ko,

kapag it reminded you of someone

ayyyy

WALA NA! kalokohan na ito!

di hamak naman, koyang!

DI HAMAK naman!

so i therefore, conclude.

hindi ako tigang!

bow!

si... ano na lang!

BASTA!

hahaha. ayoko na baka

magalit na siya sa akin!

peace!

pasensiya na sabaw

ang utak ko ngayon!

hahaha!

sidedish muna po:
yan, ang avatar na kakalaban sa avatar ni dave! hahaha!

beings: just beings

there they were divinely walking in the middle of the darkness. their skin, glowing with fresh golden stardusts, continously being sprinkled by what looks to be cherubins from heaven sitting on top of the street post. even the streets kneel down as their ambrosial hair falls and graces the floor, scared of touching it. while the entire evening hold their silence because of their celestial presence. every night, as i risked myself home, i often pass these heavenly creatures like an immaculate apparition. they are such a feast in one's eyes that i couldn't take off mine from looking at them. but despite their deific figures, i noticed that there eyes were the most sorrowful things i have ever seen. they were like pairs of dark, mystical orbs that contain all the miseries and sorrow in the world. there was pain in mere looking at them, as if it is harshly tearing my chest apart. as if their stare was telling me, theyre damned: theyre not mortals nor gods, not even something that falls in between. they are beings with omniscient features but with a heart of a mortal, vulnerable of hurt and pain. something that they have to bear until theyre immortality is bestowed upon to them ,once again.

there were several mortal shadows pass. some halt to give respect, while others just ate blasphemy for dinner. but most, catch and bag as a prize and bring them home, where they are stripped off all their unearthly beauty and shoveled their mortal heart with turmoil.then expect the next night, that they would return back to the same spot still waiting for the call that would ascend them to their proper place in the universe. waiting for that someone or something that would restore back what have been stolen from them--- their soul.

can we blame them? chronicle: a holy week presentation

Can you actually blame them?

be the first person to cast the stone,

if you don't believe that this is love

rather its a sin.

the real road shits

today, I woke up 25 minutes before my shift. but on a usual day, i used to wake up atleast 2 hours before, in order for me to have ample time to commute from katipunan to makati. just imagine the panic that struck me when i saw my unreliable alarm clock. i immediately stood up from bed and prepared for work. it surprises me how my adrenalin cut my preparing time to 5minutes form the usual 30 minutes or more.

when i stepped off our gate i hailed a cab, believing that it would save me from getting scolded again by my supervisor, for it sometimes does the trick. taking the cab would just take me 15minutes to my office, if the driver senstive enough to realize that i am rushing, while 30 or more minutes if i got an lpg driven taxi and a very lousy driver.

fortunately, i was able to get a regular taxi with a very sensitive and friendly driver. but when i thought that i am about to make it, i saw a big traffic build up ahead, along c5 road. its such a big hassle, especially for commuters, whenever politicians start to build up their names foir the upcoming election. even the roads that doesn't really need some would be dig up and be reconstructed, behind the excuse of widening it for better roads, better lives, as they say it.

what is more annoying is the fact that the road they use to reconstruct are the busy ones, those that most people pass but don't really need to have major repaired: and to worsten it all, reconstructing a 300m road takes god-knows-how-long. take for example, the f*&#$^% C5 road! while those roads that are remote and really needs total reconstructions are being ignored and left out. they just have to show off their name to the people passing, still believing that name recalling is always a good thing.

i reached work almost an hour ahead of my supposed shift. still upset of the traffic that i struggled to pass through. i immediately headed to my station. hoping that my boss did not notice me. but when i felt his presence coming near me, i hurried setting up everything and pretended busying myself with work.

"after that one, go to my cube, okay?"

i just gave him a nod.

i know, its me to blame for being late. but if not for the road construction they keep on digging up, i could have catch it up.

oh well, its just me ranting. now, back to regular emo programming. hahaha!

nang pina-uso ni dabo ang salitang emo

noong una, inaamin ko, maging ako ay nagduda sa bilis ng takbo ng aming relasyon. hindi ko na nga matandaan kung paano namin nakuha ang numero ng isa't isa. basta naramdaman ko na lang isang araw na hindi na mawala ang ngiti sa mukha ko sa tuwing tutunog ang aking telepono.

hanggang isang araw, nagpasya kaming magkita. halos maulol ang mga daga sa pagtakbo sa loob ng dibdib ko dahil sa kaba. hindi naman talaga kasi ako basta-basta nakikipagkita sa hindi ko naman kilala. subalit kakaiba ang araw na iyon, animoy may nag-uudyok sa aking upang maniwala.

halos walang salita ang namagitan sa aming dalawa nang kami'y magkita. madalas ay magtatawanan lang sa tuwing mararamdaman ang kakatwang katahimikan. nag-usap ang aming mga ngiti at kahit doon lang ay katakatakang nagkaunawaan kami.

sa isang iglap, nakita na lamang namin ang isa't isa na nakaupo sa ibabaw ng buong maynila, ang bukod tanging lugar na hindi kami mapapansin ng lahat. tahimik na pinagmatiyagan ang ingay ng lungsod at ang pangako ng mga ilaw na kailanman ay hindi mawawala.

nang mapagod ang gabi sa pagtatago sa amin, napagpasiyahan na namin umuwi. nilakad ang madilim at walang katiyakang kalsada. subalit nadaig ang takot ng aming pananabik na lalong makilala ang isa't isa. muli, niyakap kami ng katahimikan subalit hindi man lamang nagtama ang aming mga katawan. mula sa malayo, hindi ko tiyak kung bulalakaw ang nakita kong bumagsak pero humiling pa rin ako na sana ay makasama ko pa siya ng matagal. naisip ko pa ngang ihatid siya sa kanyang uuwian kahit na tatlong jeep ang layo nuon mula sa amin. subalit wala akong lakas ng loob upang sabihin yun. ang hindi ko alam, nakita din pala niya ang bulalakaw.

nalagpasan kami ng oras nang dumaan ito malapit sa bahay nila. hindi namin kapwa namalayang wala na ang estranghero sa kanya-kanya naming harapan. unti-unting napalitan ng mga salita ang mga ngiti at nagkaroon din ng hubog ang katahimikan. hindi ko na mabilang ang mga lihim na sinangla ko sa kanya at hindi ko na din matandaan kung tinubos ko man ang mga ito, ang alam ko lang ay tuluyang nagkaroon ng halaga ang tiwala at ang kaba ko.

nagpaalam kami sa isa't isa na tanging ngiti lang ang pabaon. gusto ko sana siyang yakapin ng mahigpit hanggang bumaon ako at maitago sa kanyang dibdib. subalit naunahan ako ng hiya ng may dumating na magkasintahang na magkayap sa aming likuran. alam ko nasabi ko sa kanya yun subalit nagkaroon na lang ako ng lakas ng loob nung pauwi na ako.

kinabukasan, pinatanggap na sa akin ng hindi ko naman matandaang panaginip ang katotohanang hanggang duon na lang ang lahat. subalit totoo nga atang hindi lahat ng panaginip ay nagkakatotoo at hindi lahat ng hindi nagkakatotoong panaginip ay masama. nagkita muli kami hanggang sa dumalas ito. nagkaroon muli ng tinta ang aking pangguhit. nagamit ko muli ang aking kaldero't pinggan. at unti-unting nawala ang bagot sa bawat lugar na aking pinupuntahan.

hindi nagtagal ay nagising na lang ako sa pagitan ng kanyang mga dibdib, na nagmistulang lumamon sa lahat ng takot at pangambang naipon ko mula ng huling nagsimatayan ang malaking bugso ng mga pulang paru-paro. subalit, bagamat masaya ako sa lahat ng pinakita at pinaramdam niya, hindi ko maiwasang mangamba dala na rin ng bilis ng mga pangyayari. hindi ko alam kung sapat na ba ang nararamdaman ko para sa kanya o sapat na ba ang nararamdaman niya para sa akin upang magtagal kami. minsan, kapwa namin tinanong yun sa isa't isa hanggang sa pinili naming hindi na lang din hanapin ang (mga) kasagutan. naniwala kaming hindi naman lahat ng bagay ay kailangang ipaliwanag at hindi lahat ng nararamdaman ay dapat sukatin. kungkayat nagpatuloy kami sa pagkulay sa mga magagaspang na pader ng lungsod.

hanggang isang araw matapos magpakabusog sa sa pinaksiw na tawanan at prinitong mga lambing, humiga siya sa tabi ko. tahimik, ni hindi ko namalayan na wala na pala ang ngiti sa kanyang mga mukha paglapat ng kanyang buong katawan sa aking harapan. naramdaman ko na lang ang pagbaybay ng mainit na luha sa aking tagiliran at narinig ang alingawngaw ng mga hikbi ng taong humihingi ng tawad.

kailanman ay hindi ko inaasahan ang pagdating nuon, na parang isang matulis na punyal na hinagis mula kungsaan at bumaon sa kaliitan ng aking kalingkingan. kung kelan kaya ko ng sabihin na mahal ko nga siya, saka naman nabagot ang naghihintay. nagpaalam siya sa likod ng mga dambuhalang luha. samantalang nalunod naman ako sa mga alaalang kapwa namin linikha. nagkatsunami bigla sa katipunan kahit malayo ito sa manila bay.

bagamat gusto ko siyang igapos sa aking yakap, ikulong sa aking mga salita at ikandado sa aking mga halik, hindi ko ginawa. sa sandaling yun, una kong nasabi sa sariling naging matapang ako para sa nararamdaman naming dalawa. hindi ko nagawang pigilan siya dahil kung tutuusin naramdaman ko na kahit papaano ay minahal niya ako, kahit na salat ang mga salita ko upang mailarawan o maipaliwanag emosyong iyon at kahit na malabo at hindi maintindihan ng iba.

lumipas ang mga araw, linggo at buwan na mas mabagal pa sa naghihingalong uod sa daan. balik sa dating buhay, kumbaga. balik sa nakasanayan matapos iluwa ng pagbabago (?). pinilit ang sariling hindi magbago.

hindi nagtagal, nakausap ko siyang muli. subalit batid kong mas kailangang maging maingat ako sa paghabi ng aking mga salita. hindi man bumalik ang imahe ng estranghero sa aming dalawa, nangamba pa rin akong baka mag-iba muli ang anyo ng aming katahimikan.

di naglaon, hindi ko namamalayan, binuksan muli niya ang sarili sa akin. iba man ang lagusang pinasok ko noon, masaya pa rin ako dahil nasilip ko ang nilalaman ng kanyang pagkatao. hindi ko napigilan ang pagguhit ng ngiti sa aking mukha. subalit huli na ng nalaman kong hindi din pala ito magtatagal.

ibang tao na ang nakatayo sa dulo ng lagusang iyon bagamat pamilyar ang itsura, alam kong hindi na ako yun. linahad niya ang takbo ng kanilang hinabing tela sa pagitan ng mga pag-aalinlangan at pagdududa. sinabi niya, mababaw, walang trabaho, pala-asa, salawahan at tinatake for granted siya ng taong nakatayo sa dulo. subalit magkaganun man ay pinilit pa rin niyang ipagpatuloy at patuluyin ito bagamat taliwas sa sinasabi ng mga kaibigan, dahil sa simpleng kadahilanang, nagmamahal siya. ang totoo niyan hindi ko na alam kung papaano natapos ang usapan iyon. basta ang alam ko, kahit papaano ay maayos naming winakasan at pinagpatuloy ang lahat ng namagitan at mamagitan sa amin.

naisip ko tuloy, malaki ang kinaibahan ko sa taong nasa dulo ng lagusan ngayon. tawagin niyo man akong mayabang pero mapagmamalaki at kaya kong sabihin na lubos na kabaliktaran ko ng katauhan ang taong iyon, full cart wheel pa nga, kung tutuusin. pero sa huli naisip ko, sa kabila ng lahat ng aking paniniwala, ang tunay na pinagkaiba naming dalawa ay ang katotohanang mas minahal siya.

yun, ang araw na nalaman kong tunay ngang may kahulugan, paliwanag at sukatan ang sinumang nagmamahal.*ayan detachable po yan parang sticker, pwede niyong gamitin.

**feel free pong dito magcomment kung hindi makapagcomment sa post ni dabo. hahaha!

***paunawa: hindi din po si dabo ang karakter na tinutukoy ng kwento. magkaliwanagan lang.

*** "as much as gusto kong sabihin fiction ito," ang tunay na pamagat ng post na ito.

1017: sa paglaya ng aking salita

earlier, i woke up with this thing inside my head itching to go out. but i still didn't let go. but who knows? probably soon. probably by the time, i finish this story. probably by the time everything is already set.

but today, what is important is this favor that i am doing for a friend.




a story of two friends who ventured on a journey far more than what they have expected, tanggled within the complicated web of love, gender, politics and even within themselves. it highlighted the question, how hard is it to say what you really feel? and how difficult is it to accept the response?


"1017 gives pink films another face."- ricky lo


1017: Sa Paglaya ng Aking Salita
March 03, 2009
7:30 pm, UP Cine Adarna
UP-Diliman, Quezon City
tickets are available at the lobby or contact 09064755774

my nightmare before christmas

as years passed, it seemed like the essence of christmas are for kids have been shifted to chrismas are for those who are fortunate. it was 4 hours before christmas and i was still outside, doing some last minute shopping for some friends, which ended up going home with only a take out dinner.

i roamed from katipunan, gateway, farmers to trinoma, just to look for a book by haruki murakami's sputnik sweetheart, which i promised i'll give as a gift for a friend who just came from singapore. unfortunately, from all the bookstores i have been, including all there other branches within the metro, they gave me just one response, "sorry, sir. out of stock."


walking empty handed, i decided to take the long trip going home. i took a bus from trinoma to cubao. then a train ride from cubao to katipunan and then another tricycle ride from katipunan to my place. all because of lack of taxis around. but despite those rides, i was able to realize a lot of things about today's event, christmas eve.

among the streets i walked into i noticed that there are a lot of commuters than usual. obviously, because of the said occasion. but i observed that there is a certain similarity among their faces. it was despite the spirit the season is promoting, sad and long faces are still prevalent among the streets of metro manila. far different from those you will see among people inside malls like those i have been, where everyone are enjoying, spending and celebrating the yuletide seasons through piles of boxes and gift bags.


while in the streets, i saw a man, probably in his late 40s, rushing towards home and carrying a piece of small bag with probably three pieces of relatively big fishes. then there was a mother carrying her son on her lap while begging for "pamasko" along aurora overpass. there was also this old woman, standing on her bent back, nodding to ask passers by for alms and who would not notice the families sleeping along the same boulevard. not to mention they have babies with them as young as two months lying flat on the hard and cold floor.


after each scenes, i asked myself, how do or will they celebrate christmas? or if they ever celebrated it far different from what they are having now?

probably, that is something i am struggling inside. i have the tendency to create stories within my head from one look among these people and i just can't help it, that sometimes its becoming too fatalistic.

but when i thought how pitiful i am spending christmas at work alone and learning that i am missing 5000 in my salary today, i realized that i am actually more fortunate than these people since i have all the traditional ways to celebrate it. i can still buy food, gifts and go to parties if i want to. but in second thought, they are also fortunate in their own context because atleast, they have their family to celebrate with. regardless what they have on their table or floor. while i am all alone.


i actually fell asleep having these on mind and just thought that this will be just any ordinary day that will just come and go. but when i woke up exactly 12 midnight, i found 45 messages on my phone composed of christmas greetings from family, relatives and friends and they are still coming. from there atleast, i realized that i am actually not alone and have all the reasons to celebrate it all by myself.