Haters Not Allowed!!!

Drag King: Third Part

2012-02-10T21:39:00.001+06:00

First Part
Second Part

“Magtatayo ng shop?”JJ asked the emissary I sent to disclose my comeback.

“Baka naman front langyun. May plano yang si master sigurado ako.”

It took us three years to face each other again. Butinformation has been exchanged between the splintered Westside and his army whobuilt a reputation in the East for creating themselves a very powerfulcollective brand. Informed of his exploits and his popularity in the quarters,I knew I have to rebuild my alliance with him to bring forth an ingenious brand.

“Bakit daw hindi kanagpakita sa kaniya ng personal. Namiss ka daw niya. Hindi daw niya akalain nababalik ka pa.” The emissary relied to me after meeting JJ.

Naysayers have long believed that I have thrown myself inthe backburner forever. With a new and complex configuration in the quarters,retaining the grip I used to have would be an impossible feat. With a team thathas produced a faceless leadership due to constant factional struggles andblatant hostility with each other, reinvigorating the Westside could actuallybe a futile work.

But plans are in place to preserve my place again. I knewthat the stakes are higher this time since I had to roll out all my ambitionssimultaneously – alone.

And there he was, JJ who has found a role for himself as theunassuming king of the road. JJ, who used to be dreamer, has now turned into apowerful asset that I could use to gain advantage in the uncharted market.

It was already planned. In exchange of his alliance with meis an assistance to bring him inside a larger circuit arena to legalize hisstature from what used to be just an underground track for him.

“Sabihin mo, magkikitarin kami, malapit na malapit na. And he has to make sure that he has every‘angas’ to show me once na magkita ulit kami.” It was a final message thatI fired to him.

And he indeed has the ‘angas’.That most enthralling command I constantly hear he used to throw the crowd intosurprise. There he was inside a red Mitsubishi Lancer, stepping slowly on thegas, preparing for a mad take-off and when the road has cleared, made anearsplitting revolution that could almost break the vehicle’s engine. Hisperformance stopped the worlds of the disturbed spectators.

And there I was, surprised with a different JJ. The handsome and charming racer who used to be part of those images in my wildest imaginations is nowcoming into reality. By the moment he blew his car’s horns towards ourdirection to acknowledge our existence, my nerves have shattered into pieces.

“Finally, it’s nice to see you again, J.” I extended my handtowards him which was returned with a tight grip.

“Pasado na ba sadifficult standards mo?” We chuckled and I realized that my hand has beenholding his for extended ages. I flushed red and had to contain myself bylooking away from his direction. The others who were helping me for the lastminute’s preparation were silent for what they thought was an ordeal of seeingtwo possible rivals for the control of the territory soon.

“Opening ko na bukas,you should come.”

“I’ll give it a try.Kung wala man ako, it’s okay. Araw araw tayong magkikita, I promise you. And I’llalso introduce you to the army you helped me built one of these days.”

“And please, tell oneof your factions to stop ousting us since it will not bring us anything. Masmaganda kung magkakasama tayo ditong nagbobombahan sa mga tunay na kalaban.” Hequipped before he stepped in the car again.

The encounter probably lasted only fora few minutes only but God knows how long my heart has been pounding sometroubling pulses since setting my sight into him. I wanted him! It was an intense desire that probably needs some dealings later.

Words have passed towards the rowdy quarters of my comebackwith the East’s endorsement. Rumors of an imminent offensive standoff betweenthe conflicting armies surfaced. Others speculated the JJ’s presence wouldsurge up the business revenues in the future.

And while others have been contemplating on how thekingmaker would make use of the king of the road,

There I actually was, confined in my mini-empire thinking every minute of my intentions to pursue him.

To be continued…

Drag King: Second Part

2012-01-28T12:08:00.001+06:00

First Part

To say that I’ve been dragging my feet towards their battlearena that night is an understatement. There he was a protégé who would attemptto seal the books by capturing the East as its king. And there I was also,proving myself as an able kingmaker who will seal my fate and of those who areunder my command and magnify the evils of those who wish to hamper and destroyour efforts within the Westside.

The night was for the books. JJ and I were for the killsthat night. Butterflies have invaded my stomach and it became really harder forme to see how the night will turn for us.

I arrived with a pack of onlookers. Before leaving thehouse, I made sure to contact an official to protect the game from beingdiscovered by the authorities. The request was granted and the Chivas Regal andViagra will soon find their way in the crocodile’s office.

He was there preparing his Toyota Corolla, which wasreplaced with a 4eturbo engine. Brilliant, I thought. But he was more nervousas I thought he was that I had to stuff a stick of Marlboro Red between his lipsthat remains to bother me. His wife is very lucky to be devouring those, Ithought. I made sure to touch those lips while stuffing the cigarette under thepretense of being unintentional. A smile was returned and I slowly felt beingelectrocuted with amazement.

He stood up and joined me in consuming the cigarettes. Anuneasy tap in my left shoulder and I knew I had to return his with an assuringand tight grip on his right rib.

“Kaya mo yan!” Itold him which was returned with a nervous sigh. “And in case this fails, it’s not the end of the road for you, for us.”

His deafening silence was killing me. His state isreasonable. I knew of his rivals in the road. Their team is notorious in thenortheast for ending their foe’s career in a painful nightmare. Before JJ wereothers who once begged for mercy by asking for a rematch to vindicate theirpainful loss. Later, they found themselves in isolation and ignominy.

The team is the most respected team in our quarters fortheir notoriety.

They had B16 engine – evil yet brilliant. Its horsepower isbeyond what the norm can do and each stroke of its piston defines abreathtaking velocity yet a painful death for those who will wrestle itsability on the road.

“Tang*na ilang CC yangdala ni Gary?!” I asked Ken, JJ’scousin.

“1,595cc boss.Dalawang kotse pagitan niyan dun sa nakalabang hatch last week. Taob.”

“So underdog tayo?”

“Malamang.”

“Kala ko SiR langsila?”

“Nagbago isip, gustoyata tayong bangasan.”

Bets were taken and I had a serious feeling it might end usin doom. I was distracted more with the noise the B16 creates on itsrevolution. I felt like the butterflies have started to tear down the walls ofmy stomach.

“Yosi ka muna.” Ioffered another stick of Marlboro on the car window.

“Samahan mo ako dito saloob, master.”

“Seryoso ka, brod?”

His eyes were pleading. I’ve never been used to back-ridesince I was more of an spectator and behind the scenes guy. But I had to. I haveto assure him that regardless of the outcome, he will still make it.

Ready. Go.

We were both silent as he stepped on the accelerator andshifted to fifth gear. My skin was terrified with the thought of bumping onsomething on the road and death. My mind was hallucinating with a thousandpossibilities of death. We were too fast, but not so for the rival, as he was afew distance away from us. JJ, seeing our ordeal has turned into a monster; I cansee his thirst for power and influence. He was thrusting for the finish line,attempting to overtake the rival with some success but the rival impedes our victory.One more try at a forced revolution and we will make it.

He did. And my brain is practically dead. To undergo thesurge of different emotions running through my veins is an anew illustration ofheaven and hell.

Pleasantries and greetings came from both sides and I’vedecided to settle our night with cases of San Mig Light.

“So what to do next?”He asked, bearing that killer smile I haven’t seen earlier in the night.

“Build a team, andturn them into monsters like you.”

Unknown to him, I had already informed the fields of thepopular Banawe of his arrival in any case he will need assistance in any of hisundertakings. It was a transition, as I have decided to take a hiatus from theindustry. Money during those times mattered so influence needs to take abackseat.

It was the last time that we will speak to each other. Yearswill pass and my focus has turned on money making and career building. Both ofit as I tried to gain exposure in the world of motorcycle and help build the Westside’smost prominent riders.

Until the big project came.

“Tell JJ I am openinga battery and motorcycle shop in front of his empire.”

To be continued...

Drag King: First Part

2012-01-08T22:55:00.000+06:00

It was heaven at its finest. Perhaps, even hell. Threethousand five hundred revolutions per minute and instead of hearing the mad throttlingthe killer engine releases, my ears could no longer hear a thing. I am wellaware that I failed on the fifth gear. Transmission has broken down and my presence– had instantly fallen into shards because of shame.

“No brainer.” I told myself. “When all else fail when I hitthe brake, the world will not fall apart.”

“Hit the brake! Hit the fuck*ng brake!” He was fuming insidehis car. Mine was B16, and no one told me that it was a killer. Unlike his VTECthat has long been predictable in running, mine is definitely sending signalsof arrival at purgatory. I don’t even own it, but a claimant to it is closer.

Beneath us was Macapagal Boulevard. Up we were prostitutingthe highway for our extra-constitutional ploy. Unless we’re inside a racingcircuit then it would have been legal. Authorities were not yet in the loop ofit but the moment they hear of those mad dashes of revolutions coming from ourtoys, sure they are it would supply them a night worth of ‘Pegasus’.

Of course,no one from the two of us would have wanted to be some cagers for the nightwhile the world is sleeping.

Drunk from two bottles of ‘Emperador’ when we have decidedto play against the road. I needed the bottles for the “great confession.” Idesired him from day one. The day before the empire opened its gates for thepublic. It’s been three years since I last shook his hand. The ex-assistant,who was also a childhood friend, was told about my desire towards the man. Had Ifound out that the exchange of his termination will result into the evildivulgence, I could have kept the ex-assistant for good.

We are 10 years apart. He is married, though the nullity ofthe marriage is in the works under the courts of justice. Drag King or JT as Ifondly call him. We met three years ago when he was one of those struggling in thefield to make ends meet. Father, being the figure many like JT looked up to,asked me to back the guy break the fortress of the crowded den.

But the industry was never a passion to me. It was a moneymaking machinery that an impassionate and inept could not stomach to enter. Theinfluences of its godfathers are unbelievable no matter how greasy their nailsare. I partly entered not because I am interested in bathing myself with oilengines and gasolines, but to build contacts and power inside the elitecircuit.

I first learned about his ambitions on the night fatherintroduced us along with some tropas.We weren’t close yet, but he fondly calls me ‘master’. Had I been totallywasted that night, I could have traded all the industry secrets for his red lips.For how many times he turned my stomach upside down with his striking stares remainedunaccounted. He was very warm and chatty that I felt he was an old friend. Idon’t exactly remember, but it seems that I browsed my phonebook and gave himsome contacts within the ‘Westside’ where my foothold belongs.

We were the last men standing after six cases of San Mig Light. Thousand thoughts wereplaying on my mind that evening. No one, except me has slept on the room inweeks after the ex decided to call it quits again. Perhaps a one night standcould get off my itch and we can forget it the next day. I’ve served him hisneeds anyway.

But the other half told me not to. “Be cautious”, it tellsme. Perhaps the other half of the brain wasn’t consummated by alcohol yet. Luckyfor it, unfortunately for me. Had it not reacted to my evil whims, I would havetorn down the guy’s shirt and claim his frail body mine. But then it hit me. Sleepingwith him risks me of exposing my well kept secret.

So the moment I’ve heard him snore, I had to repose him onthe sofa inches away from bed. Nap was feared thinking I may do the unthinkable.Hours to daybreak passed slowly and I barely had a decent sleep after downing myselfwith almost 15 bottles of beer. But there I was, satisfied looking at the man’s beautiful facade.

I was half-dead when he left the next morning.

Weeks will pass before I hear from him again. But I’ve heardhe is learning though the loops very fast. I never doubted that his congenialpersonality will win him new allies and clients. I knew that on the entrance,he will make it through.

“Master, takbo saR____ sa Sabado. Punta ka. Tapos na iyong 4E na ni-refer mo sa akin nungnag-inuman tayo.”

Gambling aside, it was drag racing.

To him it was make or break for a promising career.

To be continued…

A Year For The Books

2011-12-30T23:46:00.000+06:00

Nothing has stopped the seasons from changing. We left,arrived then decided to walk forwards. When sanity has hit the grounds so low,prayers were whispered hoping that soon the heavens will intervene to strideback our heads to peace.

The year has been the most difficult for me. Sailing on anew direction was never a breeze. Fortunes that were saved from the past careerhave declined to establish soon what I can call an empire. While being thecaptain of my own ship uplifted my spirits, some mistakes and indecisions arestill hounding me until this very day. In paper, the long term plan toskyrocket the finances forecasts a commanding brand. But in reality, it wouldnever ensue until I make the willed move to make the plans happen.

But more than the pains that I have gone through just tomake everything around me by this moment happen is the experience of meetingnew people who have joined this journey. From hundreds or probably thousands ofsouls I have crossed paths everyday, few were left to sit down with me, beingbastardized with bottles of San Mig Light or Red Horse or worst, Emperador. Fewjoined the enthralling experience of travelling the road without fear. Fewwelcomed me in their homes on times I couldn’t call mine my own.

And one has decided to submit and entrust his soul to me – theone whose presence I can no longer deny as truly fascinating. The one whoattested that my endless agonies before meeting him has been worth theexperience. Fate as some may call it, others felt it happened for reasons. Butregardless of logic or magic, the kingmaker meeting the king was the day itrewritten and sealed our once shattered chapters. That no matter how many timesboth of us failed, it should never be an excuse for us not to love again.

Had I known years ago that these grandest things wouldactually happen to me; I would have traded a promising career I once had allfor these.

But if there is one that I will always be thankful offor this year, it’s her. Our relationship may have been rocked with thousandsof malevolence in decades. But gone were the days when violence, hatred and curseswere our recourses. Gone were the guilt and painful weepings. Gone were thenights when I feared that she was one of those who died in the tragedy. Gonewere the wounds but not the scars that will always hold me back from seeing heruntil I am ready. The icebergs that have clinched my heart in years break saw theirrupture.

I may have not seen her yet in flesh, but the exchanges ofthe uncomfortable and cold pleasantries at the onset were never expected toturn out like this.

“Hi anak, pabalik naako bukas sa Japan. I hope na sana pagbalik ko magkita na tayo. I miss you andI love you always.”

“Hi ma, ingat po kayosa paguwi. I am also hoping na next time magkita na talaga tayo. Please don’tthink na galit pa rin ako or anything, but please understand na hindi pa po akoready this time. In time when all the scars are gone, I will surely trace thefootsteps that once both of us have walked into together. I am always prayingfor you. Sa pagbalik niyo po, ipapakilala ko na sa inyo yung pinakabibong aponiyo. J”

“Naiiyak tuloy akoanak, parang ayaw ko nang umalis, but don’t worry naiintindihan ko angnararamdaman mo. In time. Love you anak.”

But for reasons the heart could not even explain, it wipedaway all my longings that I once had in childhood. Mother was there in spiritswith me in the pursuit of my own life. She may have never been the backbone ofmy endeavors, but she was the beacon who guided me while the world around mewas circled with darkness.

It may have been a difficult year for me. The road to realfortunes may be a long way to go. Writing may have been shelved every once in awhile to be truly sober and focused with my tactics. To speak aboutjurisprudence may have been postponed in the interregnum. But when the Greatestabove knows that no faith was lost,

The Greatest stories are still waiting to be told.

For everyone who stayed and have been with me this 2011,

Malas niyo lang na nakasamaninyo ako sa 2011 ninyo!

Kidding!

Cheers to a Prosperous and HappyNew Year!

Drag King: Prologue

2011-11-13T00:57:00.001+06:00

November 12, 2011

Drag King,

There are mornings like this when I feel juvenile. Here I amsniffing once again the shirt you left for the night to remind me of howwonderful our nights were. The powerful scent of your perfume, no matter howgreasy your shirt was, makes me crave for more of you. I had to admit thatthere were daybreaks I wished that nights were longer yet the sunrise betraysmy mad desires.

It’s been exactly four months since that very eventful nightyet it remains to be very vivid to my memory. I confess that there were nosparks or whatever that night which will turn us into some sort of a classictale, but our becoming is more than enough to be epic. Without anyone knowingbut just the two of us, we came to devour each other’s souls and made it one.

I wonder what most people would say once they learn aboutus. We’re totally aware how they have been carelessly predicting that ours willsoon turn into a bitter power struggle to establish the rightful survivor inthis ugly game of empire building. But here we are chuckling at them because wehave tricked them with our efficient strategy of branding.

If I can clearly recall, I once told myself years ago howtroubling your appeal was. You were then in a blissful marriage, while I havealready contented myself with an abusive relationship. Had we tried to make thetwo of us work back then, it could have turned into a horrible affair.

But things in fact change. Years after, we found our handsshaking to reaffirm our ties. Your eyes were excited to see me floating back afteryears of a sell-out life, but my hands, for heaven’s sake have been holdingyours for extended seconds. I am not sure if it was love (or itch) back then. Butfor endless nights, your appeal has consumed my sanity. I have never felt anenormous gravity of infatuation in years until that very day.

I could have kept my fascination to you forever. Iunderstand that this is anything but alien on the world you existed. Besides, Iwas already satisfied to wait for you every afternoon, watching you driveanother vehicle like hell and acknowledge my presence by blowing your horn likecrazy. It would have been a routine for me, but thanks to a traitor who spilledthe secret to you, I found myself embarrassed professing this marvelous passionmy heart could no longer control.

You could have humiliated and laughed at me. But that night,I saw what I least expected you to be. It was the understanding; it was yourwillingness to see things on a different light. It was the courage to trydifferent sets of things without being too overwhelmed.

You came when the heart has gone tired of making itselfmiserable. And the mind can no longer deny that with you, I became the life Iwished myself to be. And after endless attempts to love, it was you that theheart could no longer refuse.

I could have satisfied myself on being the desolatecharacter in a cruel legend but your love is such powerful poison that my veinscannot defy. But instead of it making me weak, you made me believe once againthat love is there to exist.

Your velocity is simply breathtaking.

Finally, the east collided with west. The maestro fell forthe king, made love in a time when war, they thought was most imminent.

You arrived when I thought the heavens have betrayed me. Youcame when I deemed that surrender was the noblest feat. But here I am, kneelingin gratitude for more than one hundred and twenty days and nights, thanking ourdeities that we both made it.

And for many times that you have melted me with your warmth gazes,allow me to tell you,

That I will never regret spending millions of lifetimes

To love you.

Before and After

2011-10-29T13:56:00.000+06:00

From a plain and dull looking enterprise,

To a very promising brand and empire.

This is us after five months.

Bouncing

2011-09-11T18:46:00.000+06:00

It was never an intended hiatus. But further exploration of fortunes made it difficult to balance life lately. Others may call it greed, when for me; it is just a thirst for learning. What got me really into thinking (and perhaps, doing) lately is how to enact the business structure that I have put into mind months before the inauguration of the enterprise.

Thus, deprives me of a personal life. Back in the days when I was still a corporate burden in the making, toiling in longer hours never hampered my personal calendar. Back then, 6am means breakfast with friends, 8 am for bedtime, 9 pm to begin what seemed to be an endless shift, Mondays for weekend hangovers, Saturdays and Sundays for rest days.

But with this significant challenge I have thrown myself into, even rest days can’t be afforded. There’s just too much to learn and ponder on. You see, even before I joined the ranks of these mini-entrepreneurs, my knowledge of the industry is next to nil. Sure, I (possibly) understand how the charging system of a vehicle works or how to catch some bruises while driving a motorcycle recklessly, but the last time I held a screw driver was ages ago. So for others to trust my judgment on some problems that the store has resolved, it brings back the confidence that has been for months under schism. There’s just too much to learn lately.

And perhaps the reason why I have been sticking so much to the business is its security. It may be very selfish, but I don’t want to trust others on making decisions that could send me down to an immediate bankruptcy. I only trust people for the job that they are entitled to do. My dad once said that I’m a ruthless freak for not giving my people the chance to learn. But I’ve had my reasons and suspicions as well. Those have been proven correct when one day, some bucks to fund the checks have been missing.

The helper in charge of the store during my dreamland hours was immediately fired. Accounts of his offenses have piled up that added to the verdict. Accounting all his transgressions might take a few blog entries to finish, so it’s time to move on. Closest friends call me the “berdugo”, for my temper and acerbic tongue when annoyed or incensed, I rarely spoke subtle when enraged anyway. Perhaps, it really was the “berdugo” who bugged me in the ear that made me fire the helper. But trust is centric to me, others may have felt sympathy for the helper, but the infidelity has broken my confidence to him as his employer and friend.

As a result, it was for me to carry the burden of staging a one man show over the past few months. In the process, I found myself engulfed with too much stress of doing all the work alone. Add to it the bookkeeping and accounting issues (which I really have no background, being a kid of journalism) and the countless concerts of the Red Horse fanatics in the KTV bar nearby [that puts my sleep recently in a total nightmare], my body has to endure the surging stress level. You know it when you’ve had too much stress when you have smoked more than two packs of Marlboro Red in a day, or probably being caught in some road accidents, or every sentence you speak is full of expletives that no one has ever heard off.

Apparently, it has never been easy to work alone with these big things. Sometimes, I just want to close my eyes for a minute, maybe to take a quick rest, but mostly to rethink of my goals, on why I, at the first place have been doing all these.

And if I can really make it.

Barely a month since the business’ conception, issues have begun to surface. The equipments have been acting up again, while concerns on manpower have become a source of contemplation whether the helper was the best pick, or just a burden on the store’s heaping liabilities.

Should “The Bat’s” leadership be put into reservation? Has he gone so oblivious to the matter that sometimes, a modest overhauling of the systems already in place could end the enigmas that has been disturbing his thoughts for countless days? Sure, a good number of clientele has been adding to the statistics that pleases him lately. But if we were to compare this miniature of a firm to the world’s greatest empires, the leadership of “The Bat” may not be adequate to launch itself bigger to the tightness of the market competition today.
- Leadership review for “The Bat”, Fourth of July.

Learning all these things in a painful way makes me think that greater things are coming. Maybe not very soon in the personal latitude, but my hope is for things to get better. The numbers are increasing, so there is really no way for me to be saying all these negativities. Today, the subsidiary (which is just inside the store) has been launched. Nothing extravagant like its mother’s inauguration, but I guess a determination of how distant I have come on this challenge. Maybe a desired rest can wait. Perhaps I have been too demonized with the frustrations that pulses from the veins of my own insecurities and fears. Maybe I have not been doing badly after all. I don’t know, maybe I just don’t know how to say things right lately.

And so I’ve decided to conclude the silence of this space for months. I don’t know how I can still fill this space with some inflated and ugly rhetoric that is deemed unnecessary after posting. Besides, there is really nothing to write much about lately. But no matter what, this habit should stay.

But for now, I have to reduce myself watching the vehicles pass by another day of traffic, while listening to Ate singing her medley of “Nilunok Kong Lahat”, “Gulong ng Palad” and “Kung Liligaya Ka” on the nearby KTV Bar – count this as one of my frustrations.

Twenty-Third

2011-06-13T22:58:00.003+06:00

Dear Louie,

By now, you must still be staring at the available jobs in Jobstreet. You’re just seventeen. But I can’t blame you. Since finishing high school, you’ve called the shots to make it on your own. I know exactly how you felt when doors were slammed on you when the needed refuge was appealed.

But you have to make it. With the scarcity of a glimmering credential, you will find yourself braving the arteries of Metro Manila looking for means to survive. Some will be accommodating despite of you being inexperienced. But many will turn their backs thinking that you are still incompetent to do the job.

Your ambitions are larger than life. I wish I can tell you to funnel these big dreams and determine what will be the best for you. But the momentum your heart holds will hinder me from doing so. I can never break your young heart. Sadly, you have to learn this on your own. You will soon realize how the world could turn cruel and lash you until you are badly sored.

Amidst these tribulations are the series of fiascoes that are soon to unfold. You see, you’re a rebel too. You might be seen as the relentless architect building your mighty bridges to the future but your own foundations will soon become fragments - that will cease the survival of these bridges.

You will enter the dangerous world of illegal narcotics. During your darkest moments, you will seek solace from weeds, foils and capsules. It will make you numb and high. It will make you forget the problems that you are facing. But this will also bring some mess you never desired to have.

Months will pass before you can revive yourself and take an absolute control of your life again. But it will be a rough road to recovery. You must still be unaware of it but a pulse is starting to beat from someone’s womb. Just when you thought that tides have turned and luck is starting to flow, you will see yourself being indecisive.

And what exactly are you thinking now?

You are blaming people and bleating. Clearly, you will make all efforts to absolve yourself from your accountability. That is all nonsense of course. Wrecked as they are but lives should certainly carry on. But you will think out of the box just to escape.

You are a disturbed soul.

Yet things will change upon the arrival of the little angel. Roles will change as the child grows. Your pact with the mother and her lucky husband will become formidable as you will build the strongest friendship ever. In time, you will worry how to address the situation once the child turns older.

But what worries me most by now is how you will learn how it is to love. By now, you must be contemplating on this new path you have taken. You are afraid, yet you are excited to follow what your heart truly desires. And when a lover has made it into your life, you will be inflicted with the pains of being abused because of material and financial motives.

How I wish I can tell you how it is to live through the agonies of the past when nights are colder. How I wish I can shed a piece of advice on how to survive the horror. How I wish I can tell you that things will be fine even if the future of me remains obscure and clueless.

How I wish I can give you that hug you always desire to have.

But you will make it.

For the principles that you have slowly crafted during your youth will be useful as you surge to greater heights of endeavors.

And when you think that you can never make it, believe that once this life is over, we are still capable of accomplishing these big dreams we once had in our next lifetime.

But for now, make up your mind. Submit your resume on that multi-national company. Trust me, that will bring you into where I am today. Go home early and enjoy that mini-banquet Tita has prepared for you and your friends.

Love,
Louie

*To the Greatest Creator, Thank You for leasing me another year in this world.

Kapitalista 101

2011-06-06T21:57:00.004+06:00

Recent studies have shown that dwelling on a government regulated industry such as transportation poses greater risks before investments can even be accrued. With oil prices surging up along with the troubles of maintaining a public utility vehicle, the plan of buying a cab earlier in the year was scrapped. With no options available, leaving the most recent job was deferred.

That is why when a friend offered me to become a dealer of the country’s largest battery manufacturer, the opportunity was well contemplated. With the company having the largest share in the market in terms of profit and reputation, the offer for dealership was accepted.

The savings from the recent job was enough as a starting capital. The additional savings from the austerity experiment, was enough to be a filler in case funds dwindle in the middle of advancing the operations. Though loans are available for relief, the possible perils of settling the debt might ruin my finances.

The commencement of the enterprise was set on the last week of April. But the troubles of finding a prospective stall became the major setback that delayed the operations. Perhaps, it was luck that a stall available for leasing was found while on my way to pay the Meralco bill. With the savings for the planned enterprise being gradually consumed for my personal needs, a fraction of it soon found itself in the hands of the landlord.

It took some weeks before the shop found the light. As damages on the stall surfaced, more expenses for renovations were revealed that almost hurt the capital’s flow. Also, complications on submitting the requirements to start the business hurdled the opening that has been long overdue. As long travels were required to mend and consolidate some government records, it took an illness to suspend my long list of errands.

For the second time, the opening was postponed to accomplish the remaining prerequisites to get the business rolling. It almost became impossible.

But as soon as I found myself caressing the merchandise stocks just like a newborn child, the drive to persist took off with no options left but pursue the grand ambition. As the remaining hours unfold before the much awaited day, I soon realized that the checklist prepared months ago was nearing completion.

The dream of having something called my own is finally coming into full fruition.

This marks a new era of achieving greater heights. The setbacks of coming into my own may soon surface. But with a huge design being crafted to ensure the stability of the business, the fears are hoped to be dismissed.

The venture may have come from small and humble beginnings yet the larger ambitions that is a part of it may soon assert this little empire’s dominance in the market.

For when the test of survival has been endured, it sure will promise greater gains to reap.

And after Nimmy, Nishiboy and Fox celebrated with me the night of the special occasion,

The store is now open for business.

Coming Very Soon

2011-06-03T21:06:00.003+06:00

Because a few hours from now, the multitude of transitions will end with this.

Writing Challenge: Joshua

2011-05-31T00:00:00.004+06:00

Ortigas, Pasig. September 2007.

Tinamaan ako ng antok matapos banatan ang natirang lechong kawali na binili ni Bisor Ace. Sabado noon, alas-tres ng madaling araw at nasa kalagitnaan ng overtime. Maliban sa dalawang weekend teams, kami lang ni Bisor Ace ang nagdesisyong mag-OT noong gabing iyon.

Kasabay ng pagkabusog at pagkabagot sa trabaho ay ang matinding pagbuga ng malamig na hangin mula sa lumang aircon. Bagama’t nasa kalagitnaan na ako ng paglalamay, may ilang oras ko na ring natapos ang mga natirang trabaho mula sa linggong nagdaan. Tatlong oras pa at darating na ang karelyebong nakatakdang humalili sa trabahong maiiwan para sa umagang iyon.

Dala ng lamig at tila pagtaas ng presyon ng dugo dahil sa kinaing lechong kawali, nagpaalam ako kay Bisor Ace upang ipahinga ang sumasamang pakiramdam. Sa kondisyong matutulog lang ako ng dalawang oras, napapayag ko rin ang bisor na magnakaw ng konting sandali sa nakakaantok na gabi.

Walang tao sa sleeping quarters noong mga oras na iyon. Sinolo ko ang ikalawang panig ng double deck upang walang magtangkang tumabi sa akin. Dala-dala ang manipis na kumot na nahiram mula sa isang ka-opisina, dahan-dahan kong ipinikit ang aking mga mata upang sulitin ang nalalabing dalawang oras.

May ilang minuto ko pa lang naipipikit ang aking mga mata ng may marinig akong mahihinang yabag ng mga paa mula sa pinto ng kwarto. Naisip kong isa ito sa mga na-knock-out na kaopisina mula sa weekend shift na katulad ko ay nagnanakaw ng oras ng kumpanya. Ilang segundo pa ay nawala ang mga yabag. Pakiwari ko ay nakahanap na ito ng mahihigaan sa lapag ng kwarto.

Matapos maistorbo ang pagtulog mula sa mga mahihinang mga yabag ay binalikan ko na ang pagtulog. Ngunit unti-unti’y gumuhit ang hindi maipaliwanag na kaba sa aking dibdib. Namanhid na ang aking mga paa dahil sa sobrang lamig ng kwarto. Ilang sandali pa, unti-unti kong narinig ang paglagitik ng double deck na aking hinihigaan. Dahan-dahan kong naramdaman ang pag-akyat ng kasama sa aking hinihigaan. Nais ko man siyang tanawin ay sadyang madilim ang kwarto upang siya ay makita. Sa hindi maipaliwanag na dahilan ay hindi ko maigalaw ang aking buong katawan. Marahang kumukudlit ang sobrang lamig na hangin sa buong katawan ko.

Isang maitim na anino.

Naramdaman ko ang biglaan niyang pagdagan sa aking dibdib. Pinilit kong manlaban ngunit masyado siyang malakas. Sumigaw ako ng tulong ngunit walang lumalabas na tinig sa aking bibig. Namanhid na ang aking katawan. Tuluyan na akong sumuko mula sa pakikipagbuno sa anino. Pakiramdam ko ay malapit ng mapigtal ang aking hininga mula sa kaniyang pagdagan.

Hanggang sa nilubayan ako ng anino.

Matapos makabawi ng lakas, bumaba ako ng kama at sinilip kung may tao sa paligid. Lalong gumuhit ang takot ng aking malamang mag-isa lang ako sa kwarto ng mga oras na iyon. Nagmamadali akong lumabas ng kwarto at basang basa sa pawis. Tinungo ko ang clinic upang magpa-check ng presyon ng dugo. Laking gulat ng nurse sa sobrang taas ng aking presyon.

190/130.

Inalok ako ng nurse na dalhin sa malapit na ospital. Tumanggi ako at nagsabing ipapahinga na lang ang masamang pakiramdam. Tutal, malapit na naman ang uwian. Bumalik ako sa aking mesa upang pag-isipan kung bangungot lamang ang nangyari. Tinago ko sa sarili ang nangyari sa takot na walang maniwala sa akin.

Ilang araw matapos ang insidente, narinig kong may isang kaopisina ang binangungot din mula sa sleeping quarters. Napagalaman kong siya man ay binangungot sa parehong higaang tinulugan ko noong gabing iyon.

Nagsaliksik ako ng posibleng dahilan ng nangyaring mga bangungot at napag-alaman na may kumakalat na kwento tungkol sa gumagalang multo sa gusali. Inalam ko ito mula sa dati kong trainer at ipinakita sa akin ang mga larawan kung saan matatagpuang may nakasingit na isang batang lalaki. Galit ang titig nito sa camera na tila isang titig ng paghihiganti.

Hindi ko na inalam ang kwento kung bakit nagpaparamdam ang batang si Joshua sa bawat taong natutulog sa higaang iyon at kung bakit lumilitaw siya sa mga larawan. Inisip kong huwag ng halungkatin pa ang dahilan ng kaniyang pagpaparamdam sa takot na mabulabog ang kaluluwa.

May ilang kwento pa akong naulinigan tungkol sa pagpaparamdam ng bata. Kung humihingi man ito ng tulong o kapayapaan mula sa kaniyang mga nabiktima, sadyang hindi lang malakas ang loob kong harapin ang isang katulad niya.

Entries for the horror writing challenge:

Claudiopoi's Casaroro
Fox's Si Adora
Nishiboy's Spirit of the Glass
Will's Case of The Abandoned Hotel
Glentot's Horror Story Challenge

Editorial (Epilogue)

2011-05-22T16:03:00.005+06:00

Click HERE for the Editorial Series.

Gone are the days when the campus paper was considered a lightweight in the circulation. Years ago when budget was scarce and support from the students were almost non-existent, that we have reduced ourselves into using the available resources and skills we can utilize to bring the paper into life.

The school used to be an annex of a larger barangay school more than a decade ago. With its fiscal resources and workforce being shared with the mother school, the competition from neighboring schools is eating us. It took some years before it became a separate high school because of the huge population of students moving for its proximity in most barangays. Four years ago when Congress granted the school a full fiscal autonomy and turned it into a national high school.

The need for campus paper was voiced out by the dedicated workforce to ensure that the school is in accordance with the need for information dissemination. Publishing were suspended on some school years due to inadequacy of the staff and budget. Our absence was never notable during district or division press conferences (competition for school papers). But with Mr. dela Cruz and Mr. Silverio’s guidance, we have risen from the ranks and proved to be worthy of the victories we’ve once desired to have. Few victories were won on district press conferences, while division (provincial) conferences were rarely won. But it became our training ground to prepare for the following year’s competition.

The last year of my stay were of unexpected wins. Though I failed to win the individual category (Editorial Writing - English) and submit the requirements for the Outstanding Campus Journalist of the province, the layout I’ve created gained attention in the regional round bagging the fifteenth place out of more than a hundred schools. The literary and sports section also achieved a feat by winning fourth and seventeenth respectively. It began an era of greater achievements for the campus paper.

The paper took a dormant state after we left. Controversies over funding and leadership saw the paper’s writing on the wall. It failed to publish some volumes until it slowly came back into circulation years after.

Louie, I am very proud to tell you that “The Felipean” became the 7th best school paper in the Philippines and its editorial page landed fourth in the nationals. - Mr. dela Cruz, Campus Paper Moderator (via Facebook)

The news was met with goosebumps and tears. The draft for the announcement was prepared to be sent to former staffers.

I am in tears, Roms. Finally, itong minsang pinangarap natin, we have already achieved it kahit wala na tayo at mga ninuno na lang nila! - To the former Editor-in Chief (via SMS)

More than the accolade that was achieved by the organization, it was the humble beginnings the school paper took that earned its spot to be the country’s one of the bests. But what’s more humbling is to be a part of the institution that once became a family to me, standing tall amidst all the past uncertainties.

Burger King: Prologue

2011-05-19T22:00:00.002+06:00

Marahan akong umakyat sa jeepney matapos magtamo ng pulikat sa aking kaliwang paa. Gaya ng nakagawian ay sumakay ako sa pinakalikod na bahagi nito. Alas siyete y medya ng gabi at muli na namang tatahakin ang kalsada patungo sa trabaho. Katulad nang dati, ito ay isang lamang sa mga karaniwang gabi kung saan ang pusong nalulumbay ay naghahangad na makamit ang kapayapaan. Kung saan ang mata’y nakatungo sa kawalan.

“Manong, bayad po!”

Isang napakalalim at napakagandang tinig mula sa nag-abot ng pamasahe. Hindi ko naiwasang lingunin ang pinagmulan ng tinig. Batid kong namula ang aking pisngi sa nakita. Sa gitna ng kaharap na upuan ay isang matipunong binata na nagtataglay ng mapulang labi at mapungay na mga mata. Sa labis na pagkamangha sa nakita, hindi ko napigilang ipako ang tingin sa kaniya.

Ilang minuto rin ang tinagal ng aking pagtitig nang mapagtanto kong nakatingin na rin siya sa akin. Marahil ay sa pagtataka o pagkayamot. Sa gulat ay muntikan na akong napabalikwas sa kinauupuan. Nais ko mang tumitig uli sa kanya, naroon ang takot na may kakilalang makadiskubre ng aking kapangahasan.

Matapos ang ilang segundo ng pagninilay-nilay, aking inulit ang tingin sa estranghero. Nahalata niya ang aking pagtitig at ito’y binalik niya ng may kasamang ngiti. Kahit na gusto kong isipin na powertrip lang ito, pakiramdam ko’y malapit na akong matunaw sa kinauupuan dahil sa galak.

Bumaba ako ng jeep dala ang matipid na ngiti sa labi. Lingid sa aking kaalaman ay parehas pala kami ng binabaan at sasakyang bus. Laking gulat ko na lamang ng tumabi siya sa akin.

“Mukhang ang lalim ng iniisip mo jan ah?” Bulong niya sa akin.

“Pasensya ka na pala doon sa nangyari kanina.” Sagot ko sa kaniya.

“Wala yun, sanay na ako. I’m C, by the way.”

“Yabang lang! Louie. Pleased to meet you, Sir”

Masarap siyang kausap. Ang kaniyang mahabang mga pilikmata at sopistikadong paggalaw ng kaniyang mga labi ay nagbibigay buhay sa bawat kabanata ng kaniyang sinasalaysay. Pakiwari ko ba’y matagal na kaming magkakilala. Bukod sa pagngiti ay madalas na tanguan ko lang siya sa kaniyang mga sinasabi. Palibhasa’y matagal na panahon na rin nang huli akong makipag-usap ng masinsinan sa isang estranghero.

Unti-unti’y nararamdaman ko ang pagtumbok ng kaniyang kanang hintuturo sa aking kaliwang palad. Ang mga mata niya’y tila nangungusap, habang ang labi ay puno ng masiglang ngiti. Napakaaliwalas ng kaniyang mukha. Hindi na ako nagatubili pa. Dahan-dahan kong sinipit ng aking kamay ang kaniyang daliri. Ilang segundo pa ay naramdaman ko ang pagkapit ng kaniyang buong kamay sa aking nanginginig na mga daliri.

Naisin ko mang ipikit ang mata at idantay ang aking ulo sa kanyang balikat, masyadong mabilis ang mga pangyayari upang ipalagay ang loob sa binata. Isa pa, kami ay nasa publiko. Pilit na lang naming pinagkasya ang mga sarili sa pagbubuno ng aming mga maiinit na palad.

Sinamahan niya ako hanggang sa aking pagbaba ng bus. Sabay naming nilakad ang footbridge upang makatawid ng EDSA. Habang siya ay tatawid para may masakyan pabalik sa dapat na pupuntahan, ako naman ay didiretso sa trabaho upang gampanan ang mga natitirang tungkulin bago ang nakatakdang paglisan.

Nakasakay na siya ng bus ng mapagtanto kong nakalimutan kong hingin ang kaniyang numero. Bukod dito ay napasarap ang usapan at tila nakaligtaan ko ang kaniyang pangalan. Buong magdamag kong pilit inaalala ang pangalan ng binata, hanggang sinukuan ko na ito sa aking pagtulog nang sumapit ang umaga.

Inabot ako ng isang linggo sa pagbabaka-sakaling siya’y makita muli. Batid kong sa iisang lugar lang kami nakatira. Ilang gabi na pilit kong inabangan ang kaniyang pagdating upang pasalamatan sana sa kaniyang mabuting pakikitungo sa akin at upang alamin na rin ang kaniyang pangalan. Sa himpilan ng jeep kung saan unang nag-krus ang aming mga landas, doon ako’y matiyagang naghintay.

“Louie!” Napalingon ako upang hanapin ang boses na mula sa malayo. Akala ko ay isang kakilala lamang.

“C, remember?”

“Oh yes, I do. Ikaw na yata ang pinakamadaldal na taong nakilala ko. Hehe.” Mabuti na lamang at sinabi niya ang kaniyang pangalan.

“Nag-meryenda ka na?” Tanong niya sa akin.

“Hindi pa.”

“Tara lugaw tayo, o burger.”

“I can have both.”

At talaga nga namang hindi ako nahiyang sabihin iyon, habang nakangiti na parang tanga.

Katipunan

2011-05-15T21:39:00.002+06:00

His eyes were longing, unfazed of my apparent coldness to him. We were strolling through the artery of Katipunan that evening, disregarding the gradual kissing of drizzles to the ground. The highway once became the sole witness to my defeat of being high on illegal narcotics. It was once the solitary haven for all my anxieties, the remaining mechanism to separate myself from the world. Needless to say, the road was once a custodian of memories.

Taking the long walk from the popular Countryside to McDonalds is kilometers away. But treading the highway alleviated the spasms I’ve been enduring after wolfing down some sticks of barbeque at the eatery. Perhaps, it was also a way to feel his presence that I’ve once longed to be mine, if only the search for fortunes and purpose weren’t on our ways.

His built has changed drastically. It was only a month since he left to work on the southern part of the archipelago, but it looks like he has taken a year’s worth of work. His once body worth bulging muscles were replaced by his bones that almost protruded outside his skin. The once rosy lips that captured my attention was starting to be wrapped by smudges of nicotine.

I’ve exhaled the last beats of palpitation and wiped the huge chunks of sweat five minutes after reaching our destination. He ordered for a float, I bought a cup of sundae, just because it was out of impulse. He told me that it was a comfort food. But truth be told, I hated it. Sundaes remind me of how we seek comfort on things that can never make us truly feel.

“So, why did you come back?” Being in my coldest and most distant voice ever, it was an inquiry that took me a million of strengths to deliver.

“I guess life there is not mine for the taking. There was no glimmer of hope and purpose. I’d rather be in a laid-back lifestyle I once had. You see, I’m already satisfied caressing the canvass and paints while looking into my little enterprise of burgers.” He answered, pertaining to his knack for art and love for the humble stature of his burger stand.

“Besides, it takes more than pride to realize that my job is to make you happy.” He added while I am still unfazed with his lame arguments.

“I can never gain that happiness you are talking about at your own expense. I’m more than the regular passenger you have met months ago at the pit stop. I’m an unstable and disturbed person. Place your stakes with yourself first before throwing your trust to someone who’s not even capable of sustaining his sanity.”

“Did you ever like me?” he asked.

“Yes, and until now. But lest we forget that we have our personal goals to accomplish before even pursuing our becoming. We are on the first squares of our ambitions we wish to undertake, we should never let go of these. You’ve told me of how you wish to rectify your past mistakes by embarking on that journey. Never let go of these opportunities.” It was all I can think off to push him back to his dreams.

I am well aware that I can be an ass to people at times. There is no need to be likable, I thought. I never intended to mess up someone’s life, just to exploit my hopes of being entwined with his soul. Perhaps, living through the aftermath of the mess-up is more than what I can only bear. Perhaps, it was cowardice - that this isn’t right this time. For if there is one thing I always wanted for him, that is to satisfy his cravings for the huge dreams he once desired to have.

“Hey, let’s try to work something out, okay?” He told me as I slowly disappeared from the confines of my garage. I never answered, just gave him an uncertain nod while painting an ugly smirk on my face.

And when his footsteps have turned lull, proving he has taken a further distance from the house, an unexpected message was sealed to be delivered to him.

“It’s nice to see you back, my burger king.”

Random: Peepty (The Epal Edition)

2011-05-10T17:59:00.002+06:00

Nitong mga nakaraang buwan ay nauso dito ang pagpo-post ng fifty things about bloggers. Pero dahil late bloomer ako, I’ve decided na maging outdated at copycat at the same time. Consider this also as a forerunner to some future entries.

50. My cousin taught me to read at the age of four. The firsts that I learned were the a-e-i-o-u’s, ba-be-bi-bo-bu’s, etc.. Out of fear to be whipped by my cousin’s bamboo stick, the first words I learned to read was ga-go.

49. One of my weakness is gambling. I really don’t spend so much money on it (P500 is my maximum) but there is always a strong connection between me and the slot machine, the bingo card or even the beto-beto. When I was in highschool, I dreamed of putting up a saklaan, perya or sabungan.

48. I’m an in-denial chain smoker. I can smoke at least 20 sticks on a regular day and possibly 30 sticks during drinking sessions. Minimum is at least 10 on diet days. Some of my friends call me - pugon.

47. I’m an avid fan of extra-curricular activities during high school. I’ve joined some academic clubs, campus paper and CAT as it’s Corps Commander. I’ve waned on these activities during college.

46. Malakas akong uminom. I can drink so much beer (and even Tanduay Ice) but never hard liquors. My main nemesis are Grand Matador, Emperador, Tequilla and Johnny Walker. However, I have somewhat moderate tolerance for cocktails like Jack and Coke. Red Horse is love.

45. History, politics and government are few of my greatest fascinations. I’ve been fascinated with the early European and American civilizations, monarchies and governments. I studied Bulacan’s history and represented our school and district for a History competition. Out of four contenders, I was third place. The questions were more out of this world that I thought for a moment in time I was taking a bar exam.

44. Mahilig ako magbasa since I was a kid. Pero dahil kapos sa pera, pinagtiyagaan ko ang kahit anong pwedeng maging babasahin. Katulad ng FHM and Xerex collection ng pinsan ko. Today my collection of books varies from John Grisham, James Patterson, Anne Rice, John Maxwell, Stephen Covey and others. I’m an avid fan of legal thrillers while John Maxwell and Stephen Covey are my personal therapists. Our Supreme Court’s jurisprudence have been a target of interest lately.

43. I have this tendency to be a blabber online but in reality, I’m reserved, distant and snub. Nagiging madaldal lang ako when I’m with close friends.

42. Meron akong tatlong grupo. Stignap since high school, isang nameless na grupo ng mga PLU at Breakfast Club sa dati kong trabaho. Except for Breakfast Club, both groups knew that I am gay.

41. Speaking of Breakfast Club, I just came out to them on my last day at work. They were surprised but at the same time this confirmed their speculations. Wala daw kasi akong pinapakilalang girlfriend sa kanila. Hehe.

40. My first relationship with a PLU was more than 4 years ago. I met him at a bus on my way home. After three months, I broke up with him dahil sa takot na malaman ng girlfriend ko (na ngayo’y nanay na ng anak ko.). Apparently, they were classmates and close friends sa PUP.

39. My first real job was a service crew and marketing associate ng isang fast food chain. Back then, I earn P32 per hour.

38. But the first time I became a part of a corporate payroll was in a BPO years ago. Naging inbound sales rep ako ng isang filmmaker sa America. Selling videos with girls going wild on it.

37. After a year ng lokohan at pagiging call center hopper, lumipat din ako sa company which focuses on media production with specialties on safety and regulations.

36. I sleep naked. Madali kasi akong pagpawisan dahil sa katabaan.

35. Ako lang ang self-proclaimed artist sa angkan namin. Most members have high flying careers in civil and public service, engineering, nursing, entrepreneurship and babymaking.

34. I never had wet dreams during my puberty stage. Go figure. Lol.

33. Never pa akong nagbigay ng regalong naka-wrap sa mga inaanak ko, kadalasan, pera.

32. I never attended any children’s party. Malakas dati ang phobia ko sa mga clowns.

31. I have a lot of secrets that no one knows but I never fabricate lies.

30. Tatlong hanggang apat na beses akong maligo sa isang araw.

29. Mahirap akong paiyakin. Pero pag nagla-last day ako sa mga naging trabaho ko, I usually cry a river.

28. I’m a sentimental person. I have this drawer in my room that contains a lot of letters, cards, notes and foreign currencies from my friends.

27. Most of my closest friends have already conquered other countries. Kahit napagiiwanan, I never had any plans to work outside the country. Naniniwala ako sa power of diskarte in order to survive.

26. Some of the most seen dishes when I was still working: Lechong Kawali, Menudo, Adobong Tuyo and Inihaw na Liempo. Now that I’m jobless: Vegetables and Fishes. Bukod sa diet, I am doing it because of the austerity measures I have implemented upon being a bum

25. Mahilig ako magluto. Kapag sinisipag.

24. I really like singing. I’m just not sure if the feeling is mutual. That’s why I just resorted to songwriting instead. My modest collection of music ranges from alternative rock, pop rock, soul and r&b, grunge, country, classics, standards and trance once in a while.

23. The family, save for dad who somehow knows and understands, doesn’t know that I am not straight. I have no plans of telling them either.

22. Dad once caught me kissing the ex - Phantom. I told him we were drunk but he never asked any questions. Sabi niya lang sa akin hours later: “ingatan mo ang puso mo.”

21. I watch the movie Shelter over and over again. And I usually end tearing up while watching it.

20. I never had this greatest fascination in cars, but I am starting to learn somehow. It will be a start for a bigger initiative I will do a few weeks from now.

19. One of beer’s greatest lesson: “Magtitira lagi ng pang-uwi.” Back when I started to drink booze, I end up really drunk that I slept in some neighbor’s flowerbox. Bumalik lang ako sa katinuan after seeing the neighbor pointing his pistol to me.

18. Nakulong na ako ng dalawang beses years ago. One was for a violation of curfew and the other was because of drunkness. Nahiga kasi ako sa national highway.

17. Years ago, I’ve had this short relationship with a so-called “blogger”.

16. Long walks alone gives me comfort. Kahit na madalas akong hinihingal at pinagpapawisan. I always believe that long walks with too much friends shortens the time of travel and experience. Mas madalas, gusto ko dalawa lang kaming naglalakad.

15. My political ideology is moderate to liberal. My political influences are Franklin Delano Roosevelt, Harry Truman and Lyndon B. Johnson.

14. I am an advocate of charter change and convert our system of government into a federal semi-presidential/parliamentary system. But never to extend someone’s position in power.

13. Antukin ako. I usually sleep on buses and end up being awake at the middle of an unfamiliar place. Lumagpas na pala ako. My usual route is Ortigas to SM Fairview, pinakamalayo ko ng nababaan - Sapangpalay, Bulacan nearest is Lagro.

12. Weird daw akong tumawa. Minsan may nagsabi sa akin - pangkalawakan daw.

11. Minsan na rin akong nalulong sa droga. Never again.

10. I am looking after a few people na nawawalan ng landas. Masarap palang maging kuya, kahit na mas madalas, mas matanda sila sa akin

9. I’m an ardent believer of reincarnation. In my next life, I would still prefer to be human. I feel that there are so many unfinished businesses that I cannot accomplish in this lifetime.

8. I first got laid with a girl when I was 17.

7. But my first with the same sex - eight years old with my drug addicted ex- step uncle. It was rape. Enough said.

6. I have this tendency to be clumsy. Nung bata ako, kung hindi bubog, sugat sa binti ang inuuwi ko. Now I usually slip on wet floors and bumped on walls and doors. Worst was when I tripped at a slippery sidewalk and almost got hit by a six-wheeler two years ago.

5. Mugen is the first blogger I read and followed. I was one of the many who branched out from him. It happened during the time I lost track of everything and needed answers. Luckily, I found them.

4. I can last a week being alone.

3. During decision making, may tatlong tao sa isip ko na madalas mag-usap. Isa ako dun sa tatlo. I imagine these two as my alter-egos. The good and the somewhat evil (he is ruder than me). I usually end up being bullied. It’s either I’m weird or I have almost gone lunatic.

2. Mas madalas kong makita ang sarili kong tumandang mag-isa. Much to my family’s opposition, but I have no plans of getting married just to make someone's life or lives horrible.

1. But I have always been hopeful of the one’s arrival. I never learned to give up on waiting.

Evangeline

2011-05-08T21:23:00.001+06:00

Dear Mom,

Blame it on the cold weather or the capitalist creation of this annual celebration, but to deprive you my intentions of telling how your presence has been really missed also denies me of my right to exist.

While transcribing the words to make this note seamless, I have realized how long it has been since I last saw your face - sixteen years. I would hate to admit this but my memories are really fleeting. The only time I can remember an image of you were on moments I pull out your aged photograph wearing that black silk gown that makes you look very sophisticated and beautiful.

Everytime conversations about you and your possible whereabouts surface, I can’t help myself to stop from almost choking. I would like to chart places to trace you but the process of beginning makes it almost impossible to sail the world.

The last time I’ve heard about you was 11 years ago. I’ve been in touch with you for weeks. But the constant correspondence was cut short when Casilda has learned of your desires to win back Dad. Truth be told, I have already come to terms with the reality that ours will never be whole again. There were days when I secretly longed to experience an unbroken family but circumstances will put this dream in vain. Because if there is someone who deserves to be back with Dad, that will be the first and legal wife. Legalities aside, the only justification that I can provide was how she suffered from emotional catastrophe that she has thrived with over the years. Even until now, I can see how she was broken being left behind alone in her solitude without the man she has offered her lifetime.

To learn that your intentions of being in touch with me again just to win Dad again bruised me. I felt used and manipulated. The discovery of your hidden desires precipitated the expansion of those walls that already exist between us. And just when I needed you, when I was deeply sored by the lack of attention I wish for myself to have and Casilda’s malevolence, where were you? You chose your siblings who for years have treated you as their slave to sustain their vices and extravagance.

I was remorseful on the day I scribed my last words for you.

“Sana hindi na lang kita naging mommy. Nagsisisi akong ikaw ang naging nanay ko!”

These are the words that I will always remember. These plethora of words will burden my entire life sans your forgiveness. It was out of impulse and anger. It was during the time my soul was being burned in hell even I am still alive. The next thing I learned, you got into an accident because of outrage. You were deeply inflicted by the wounds caused by the accident, but I know that more than that, your heart was pierced by my animosity towards you. To keep myself from being reminded, I kept the draft of this letter my hand sculpted on a fading yellow intermediate paper.

I was told that you were stricken by the ovarian cancer. It was a speculation. My heart believes otherwise unless I see you in that state. But the truth is, it launched some thousand folds of anguish and prayers for your survival.

Lately, I have been attacked with nightmares about your state. My recent anxiety was fuelled by the big blow of disaster Japan has suffered. Moreover the nuclear radiation from the devastated plant discharges. Much as I would like to set my feet to the land of the rising sun and rescue you, I wouldn’t know how to start. Blame me for this cowardice but I have always feared that you will never forgive me for what I’ve done to you.

Your timeless grandeur is what my vision aims to witness. Coward as I am, but I promise to trace those footprints you have left for me to follow and toil. There maybe times when I have given up the faith of seeing you once again, but there is always an assurance that no book closes without a beautiful chapter ever written. Also, a grandson somewhere is waiting to see you.

Know that wherever you are, I love you Mom.

Bum-Landia

2011-05-04T00:29:00.001+06:00

Matters of normalcy and its becoming were aimed after my freedom from the corporate empire. Being out of work for more than a month now, there were few things that stroke sanity and were reserved to be my future epiphanies.

In a world where pipelines, statistics and stakeholders matter, the undertakings of survival relied on a painstaking decision to let go of desired liberty. The liberty was being aimed since the teenage years. I have been working since sixteen. Thus, made my last stint the seventh year toiling for treasures. My obsession for a flourishing career and to become an empire’s isolated champion almost became cataclysmic on the eve of my independence. I was haunted with realizations of moving forward once the era is over.

But fears of living normal were soon dismissed. There is solitude beneath the shaky paths of an idyllic life I’ve once longed for myself. Future seems more elusive but small movements to unseal the hindrances of an enormous maze were enough to brush away the horrors of a feared catastrophe. The funds have started to dwindle as economic resilience and lifestyle were being overhauled. But it caused to test the patience when fortunes are not yet circulating.

Upon the ascension to emancipation, hiatus from the social circles were restored. Allegiance with old friends I haven’t seen for quite some time were reaffirmed. Ties with some old foes who I thought deserves my lifetime presence were resurrected. In years when my own becoming was centric on the hunger for success, the harmony of camaraderie was ambivalent. But what pains me most was the discovery that certain people were only there as friends when you are at the top of the world. When it’s downtime, they forget who you are.

But perhaps what inflicted me most was the bittersweet closure with a special friend who I believed I will spend my lifetime with. Inspired by my decision to embark on a journey to find my purpose, he left to search the missing pieces of his life that is left to be wandered - leaving me to be reminded of a constant pain of being left behind. Though the promise of a safe return was delivered, the cynic in me believed otherwise. It was a painful farewell, but seeing him heed the beckoning of this universe to straighten out his life’s efforts catapulted me to reckon that somehow, my movements could have influenced someone’s undertakings.

By the looks of it, this is life of being mundane. But with ambitions that is for me to rebuild and accomplish, the surrender to fate of what lies ahead should never be ignited. The carefully crafted transition will define the next years until I turn to be an obsolete. There are arguments that are needed to be considered while there are also indifferences needed to be patched up to avoid any possible downfall.

The mission of trailing the normalcy resumes. Between matters of becoming a twenty two year older I have never been and the concepts of becoming old quickly, were the lessons learned that we nurture ourselves slowly to command an excellent becoming.

This is life amidst the trial of patience and transition. While there are nights enjoyed by connecting the stars to form a constellation, there are also days when existence is besieged with flames to test how ready we have become.

Bastardo (Last Part)

2011-04-30T23:55:00.007+06:00

Bastardo (First Part)
Bastardo (Second Part)
Bastardo (Third Part)

That night was truly stunning. Blurting out the words my heart has been longing to speak in years were emancipated from their captivity. It wasn’t my intention to hurt anyone. I could have blamed all the neurons that sparked the altercation but there was me hurting Casilda with my bare hands. She once told me ages ago that I’ll be a devil someday. Then, this must be the birth of my own devil. Hurting her avenged for my agonies under her oppression, but the thought of hurting someone will still not be sufficient to prove my worth as human in her eyes lingered on me.

What surprised me most was to see dad weeping while hugging me. I never saw him cry nor remembered him hugging me. But to feel being wrapped around by dad’s arms assured me that great things are still tangible. Somehow, I sensed that he felt what I was going through. He just can’t find the words to comfort me. It was never his nature. Long ago when I conceded that asking for attention is too much, so that rare hug was more than enough to console me.

Aunt never knew of what happened that night. Besides, she had the slightest clue about it. There were nights when she can hear my silent howls. She never asked, but she always felt it.

My aunt and the ancestral house were known in the family as haven for exiles. She was never rich. Being a seamstress her whole life, she can only do so much to make both ends meet. It was with her selflessness that I was able to alleviate my diminishing morale. For showing me that there is always a family willing to accept me, there was never a dull moment. Impoverished as we were, it was always with our plain lugaw and Dip Sea (a junkfood worth P1.00 per pack) or kropek as our viand that I found the atonement to some lost years I was in wilderness. Needless to say, my aunt became the mother I have always longed for.

After a year, I decided to push for high school by taking and passing an acceleration test. Dad promised of a financial support with a condition of helping him weekly on his talyer and assisting Casilda in her laundry. We never talked about the incident anymore. Tensions still occurred between us whenever she could strike back to me. She made it a point that during my weekly visits to slap me, tell how horrible my life is, call me an alila and by making some false accusations about mom. I never fought back anymore and overhauled my war policies by showing more diplomacy. Whenever she throws her ugly banters, I simply smile and look in her eyes to show how I pity her for being such a bitch and hopeless. Her incessant demonizings didn’t even matter to me anymore, I only get to see her once a week and still be paid for helping her.

But the allowance I am getting from dad and Casilda was never enough to last me for a week. I took some side jobs by working for the biggest capitalist in town and did the dirty jobs of the business as his main front liner. My job was to deal with market vendors who lease space to his property. Later on, the capitalist recognized my efforts and became his marketing attache’.

I.

Ladies and gentlemen, if an absolute control of life is for our taking, I wouldn’t be standing in this rostrum to face all of you. Ako ay naririto sa harapan ninyong lahat upang ilahad ang bahagi ng aking buhay na nananatiling nakapinid sa karimlan. Hindi ako narito upang kunin ang inyong simpatiya at awa. Narito ako upang ilahad lamang ang laban ng aking buhay. Hindi rin ako naririto upang pasimulan ang usapan ng kamatayan, bahaghari at puno gaya ng aking mga sinundan. Naririto ako upang magsilbing tala para sa maraming kabataang unti unting nilalamon ng karupukan ng gumagalaw ng lipunan.

II.

Isang dekada na rin ang nakaraan ng maranasan ko and marangyang pamumuhay. Minsa’y naging isa sa mga tagapagmana nang sana’y isang malaking imperyo ng kalakalan sa Kalakhang Maynila. Ngunit ito ako ngayon, hawak ang isang paketeng laman ay Dip Sea, piso ang isa. Itinuturing na chicherya. Ngunit ang chicheryang ito ang nagsalba sa tatlong taon kong pagpapakapagal sa hayskul. Ang chicheryang ito ang nagtawid sa bawat pagkulo ng sikmura ng masayang sambahayang aking kinagisnan.

V.

Sa sakit magbiro ng kapalaran, lumaki akong walang itinuturing na ina. Marami ang nagtangka, marami ang nag abot naging pigura ng isang ina ng tahanan. Ngunit, kahit isa sa kanila, walang nagtagumpay sa kanilang pagpapanggap. Maraming salamat sa isang tiyahin na nagmamalasakit sa isang kaanak, bilang produkto ng wasak na pamilya, isa na itong malaking pagtanaw ng utang na loob.

VII.

Isa akong bastardo, anak sa labas, anak ng club dancer. Ngunit kahit kailan, hindi sumagi sa isip ko na ikahiya ito. Marahil, pampalubag-loob na din sa akin na ako’y kinilalang anak ng aming pader de pamilya.

IX.

Sa inang pinagtaniman ko ng sama ng loob sa mahabang panahon, utang ko sa iyo ang buhay ko.

Sa amang matiyangang nagpalaki sa isang anak sa labas ng labimpitong taon, nasa iyo ang aking pasasalamat.

Sa tiyahin na matiyagang nagpakapagod sa akin sa loob ng apat na taon, para sa iyo ang tagumpay na ito. Maraming salamat sa walang tiyagang pagpupukpok mo sa akin sa pag-aaral, sa pag-uudyok mo sa akin upang maging matiyaga sa laban ng buhay at sa pananatili sa aking tabi sa mga panahong kinakailangan ko ng pangkalinga at pag-aaruga ng isang ina. Muli, maraming salamat sa iyo.

At sa Dakilang Lumikha na nagbigay sa akin ng sapat na lakas upang harapin ng buong tapang ang bawat sumisibol na umaga, maraming maraming salamat.

Bating Pamamaalam (Segments Only)
Valedictory Speech
March 31, 2006, High School Graduation

The invitation was sent to dad and Casilda to attend the event. Perhaps, it was Casilda’s perception that the ceremony was a propaganda to further demonize her. She may have misinterpreted everything that was inside the speech and was convinced that it was my full blown attempt to destroy her. Truth was, there was none that maligns her actions against me. Besides, I never wanted a cheap circus act to humiliate someone in public. Her hatred to me and my mom was in full circles that I can never fathom why she even hated us in the first place.

It has been five years since I was able to rekindle with my own dignity and stand up amidst the tribulations life has thrown to me. I am not sure if I became stronger but the events gave me an opportunity to take notes and learn from the past life. There were succession of glitches afterwards, when I lost the direction I have created for myself to take. But was able to come back with new perspectives, an offspring to nurture and show him how responsible I will become in later years .

As for dad and Casilda, rumor has it that they have been separated for more than a year now. With the two of them living in two separate timezones, it will surely not be confirmed until one has squealed their intentions to breakaway. Besides, I am always the last to know since I built my own world caring less with their juicy gossips or controversies. Dad can even handle himself, so for sure he will be fine.

But word has it that Casilda is due to come back on Monday and wants to face me. Our relationship is somewhat civil now. Few days ago when she adviced that it might be better if I take further studies Down Under. But with years that I have almost forgotten about our wars and how we severely fanned the flames to one another, is the fear that there were some bruises left opened.

The End.

Fairy Tales and History

2011-04-29T12:36:00.004+06:00

Long before royal weddings were depicted as fairy tales and pompous showcase of the British monarchy in contemporary history, royal weddings were of great political importance. Most weddings were aimed to assert political dominance in the European continent, trade and foreign relations and even as compromise for peace. Most importantly, royal marriages were aimed to protect the continuity of the monarchy.

It is to be noted that before the respective marriages of Prince William of Wales and his father, Charles, Prince of Wales to Catherine Middleton and Lady Diana Spencer, weddings were usually set up by the monarchy and its government. This was mostly the case for successors to the throne.
The United Kingdom operates through constitutional monarchy, where the political power lies in Her Majesty’s Government led by a Prime Minister, his Cabinet and the Parliament. The monarch remains as the ceremonial head of state with few reserved powers. The diminishing powers of the monarchy begun in the 1700s when most military powers, and the king’s role in domestic and foreign policies where gradually relinquished to the Parliament.
The choice of a future consort to the heir was usually a long political process. Back in the era when Europe were led with empires and kingdoms, there was an abundant choice of a consort who usually belongs to another royal family of the equal or lesser status. The role of a future consort is undefined in British unwritten constitution, but shares rank and holds the female (or male) equivalent of the monarchical titles.
Most consorts in the British history were instrumental to the changing political and cultural landscape of the then empire. Their roles, being merely ceremonial, paved some changes to the monarchy that was once ruled in absolute power. Possibly the greatest queen consort England has ever had was Anne Boleyn, queen consort of Henry VIII of England.
Being disappointed with his aging wife Catherine of Aragon to produce a male heir to the throne (aside from a daughter who will later be Mary I of England), Henry VIII sought the Pope’s permission to annul the marriage so he could marry Anne Boleyn, Catherine’s maid of honour in her court. Pope Clement VII refused the annulment, as he was held a prisoner of Charles V, Holy Roman Emperor (now Germany), a loyal nephew of Catherine.
In defiance to the Pope, Henry VIII took control of the Church of England, becoming its Supreme Head and annulled his marriage. Thus, the breakaway of the Church of England to the Pope and Roman Catholic Church’s religious influence which precipitated the English Reformation. The event was part of the wider process of the European Protestant Reformation. Henry married Anne Boleyn and was later excommunicated by Pope Paul III.
With the rise of Protestantism in England, along with some civil wars associated with it, came the succession of laws prohibiting Catholics to succeed the throne or be betrothed to a future monarch. On the fear that a Catholic would inherit the crown (since there were Catholic pretenders aiming to take back the monarchy), the Acts of Settlement 1701 was enacted passing the succession to Sophia, Electress of Hanover and her Protestant heirs.

It became clear that Anne of Great Britain and her consort, Prince George of Denmark failed to produce a surviving heir. Sophia’s eldest son, later George I inherited the British crown. This effectively begun the House of Hanover’s (of German lineage) succession of monarchs.
Never was there a law prohibiting monarchs or his successors to be married to a commoner or aristocrats. But perhaps to avoid future political and succession conflicts, royal to royal marriage was a convention. It was only in modern history that commoners and aristocrats were fully accepted as consort to the king or queen.
Edward VIII of the United Kingdom, only months after succession attempted to marry a commoner, the American socialite, Wallis Warfield - Simpson. The King’s interest and love to her sparked a constitutional crisis within the empire, but not because of her status as a commoner. She was deeply abhorred by most subjects for being a twice divorcee (with her two ex-husbands alive). Edward VIII, being the Supreme Governor of the Anglican Church of England, was prohibited to marry her as it will demoralize the image and values of the monarchy and its church.
Edward VIII abdicated the crown passing it to his younger brother George, Duke of York later becoming George VI of the United Kingdom. Edward and Wallis later married and became Duke and Duchess of Windsor, respectively. Needless to say, the crisis was fatal to the monarchy, most especially with the royal duty to preserve moral and family values to its subjects.
Perhaps the most successful marriage of a royal to a commoner was of George VI of the United Kingdom to Elizabeth Bowes-Lyon (later Queen and Queen Mother, mother to Queen Elizabeth II). Being married to George before their ascension, they were not expected to succeed the thrones of the kingdom until the abdication crisis. Her image as the “Smiling Duchess” boosted the once tarnished image of the monarchy. Revitalizing its image, she became instrumental in upholding family values and an asset to British morale during World War II. Her supportive tone to the British subjects was feared by the Nazis with Adolf Hitler describing her as "the most dangerous woman in Europe."
Fairy tale as it had become worldwide, but the marriage of Lady Diana Spencer to Charles, Prince of Wales on 1981 set the stage of modernizing the monarchy. Back in the days when consorts were dictated by royal conventions, Princess Diana broke away from it (often deferring Prince Charles and the Royal Family) most especially when it comes to her children -William and Harry. Even on downfall after her highly-publicized divorce and sudden death, Diana’s iconic presence globally brought a new image to the monarchy. Her contributions to the popular culture while advocating for peace is the living testament of Diana’s legacy. Hence, it overshadows the Prince of Wales present wife, Camilla, Duchess of Cornwall and de jure Princess of Wales.
Speculation has it that William’s marriage to Catherine Middleton is the last shot for the monarchy’s continuity. In the 20th century most neighboring nations have overthrown their monarchs through civil wars, military coup or public referendum and rebuilt their lands into republics with elected heads of states. Some states have remained under constitutional monarchy with lesser political influence and symbolic value. Some groups feel that the monarchy is deemed for an end. While the royal family remains symbolic and powerless, many argue that retaining the tradition brings to more wasteful spending while the world suffers the ruptures of broken economies.
This wedding doesn’t only dictate the fashion norm and media scrutiny that will take place in the next years or decades, it will also set history as it tries to define the monarchy’s future, the survival that comes with it and the royal family’s contributions in the ever changing political landscape.
Because once the subjects have waned on their interests and affections to the monarchy,
It is time for them to go.

Bastardo (Third Part)

2011-04-28T00:07:00.006+06:00

Bastardo (First Part)
Bastardo (Second Part)

News of my absence in the graduation rites immediately reached the neighborhood. It was a rumor that everyone was speculating on. The news spread like wildfire that I feared it might blow out of proportion. I also feared that Casilda was trying to trap me, then accuse me of fabricating sob stories to gain sympathy and nail me in front of dad.

Being ninth in the class of 17 really shouldn’t matter. But to see those scores flunked down when there I was, once in the top, speaks of a childhood tragedy the household really never cared about. Along the emotional baggage brought by the events were some enlightened facts that I have to deal with. The share of chores I am in charged of made my academic efforts futile.

The neighbors, being kindred spirits and sympathetic souls, connived for an escape plan so I can attend the graduation rites. The next door neighbor, who also had a graduating son in elementary went to school and paid my graduation fee. Another pledged for our transportation, while someone planned to distract dad and Casilda by inviting them for a drink.

All the efforts were vain. Casilda soon learned of our advances and blamed me in front of dad, telling me how my silent demeanor have manipulated the neighborhood and launched an offense at their cost. Thirteen whips of dad’s belt buckles. Thirteen whips to remember.

I was locked down at the stockroom. For a week. Trying to survive with pan de coco and spanish bread. More than being a solitary confinement, it was a haven rummage the inner thoughts. To seek revenge.

Weeks after being freed from the confines of the offensive stockroom, I decided not to proceed with high school. Perhaps, it was the trauma and hatred endured. Or maybe the indecisiveness to escape. There is no other place to go. I barely knew anyone I could throw my faith into. Much as the heart wished to avenge for the catastrophic phenomenon, strength was obscured. Being surrounded with people full of pessimism and hatred, I transformed as one.

There is no other way out. Succumbing myself to Casilda’s mercy was the only mean for survival. The new order has been established. For it was the defenseless and weakness in me that prevailed.
Days passed by when the list of chores became akin to a maid’s task. It was routine to partake in a daily basis. From washing the dishes, strolling the baby, assisting dad in the talyer, cleaning the house, fixing the garage and everything else that will make it look like some overrated and miserable soap opera scene, they were all for me to execute. Failure to complete may result into a punishment I can never succumb myself into. Once I failed to perfectly eradicate the stinking patis smell on the dining table, I picked up my next day’s allowance inside my throat, almost.

Anyhow, it was Casilda who ran the entire household for she had the biggest chunk in the appropriations. Being divorced with money she and her half-bred son get from the ex-husband living Down Under, dad’s role in the household became ceremonial. Dad told me that anything she says is the cardinal law for our survival. It is for me to understand things, a great training that will prepare me to face life once I reach maturity. And being twelve, it was a disposition to inject into my brain to keep myself reminded.

“Kailangan na nating kumuha ng bagong katulong.”

Dad looked down at Casilda’s hands full of baby cereals that I failed to pick up.

“Bakit, katulong ba ang anak ko?” He replied.

“Eh, tarantado yang anak mo! Simpleng pagpupulot ng basura sa carpet ko, hindi magawa! Tatanga-tanga!”

“Anong sinabi mo?” By then my eyes were not wet but burning. My heart began to explode expletives, trying to come out with a word to say. But all I’ve had was a red face.

“Bastardo. Anak ng prostitute. Anak ng puta. Talunan. Malas.”

It echoed to my ears over and over. To say those hurtful remarks against me was probably her way of easing out her jealousy to my mom whom she has never seen, touched, smelled or even talked to. Probably, some music to her ears. But it was more than enough.

“Bastardo. Anak ng prostitute. Anak ng puta. Talunan. Malas.” It played over and over again.

Visions have blurred. Nerves have numbed.

But it showed otherwise.

Because all I saw were my fists on her face. With blood streaming all over her body.

“Ang pokpok na sinasabi mo, pinakasalan ng tatay ko. Kahit ilegal! Eh ikaw, kerida. Pabigat sa pagoda. Puta sa Australia. Diborsiyada. Putangina mo! Puta ka!”

“At kung tutuusin, mas madumi ka pa sa nanay ko. Sinong tanga ang nagsabi sa’yong pumatol sa lalaking may mga anak?”

“Alam mo, nakakaawa ka. Mas makati pa ang pu** mo kaysa sa nanay kong puta.”

Then there was silence. The moment I whispered my last words for vindication were her angstful sobs, yet asking for my mercy. Dad, being dumbfounded of my avengeance, proceeded to my room and packed my things. I knew by the time I fanned my flames against his darling, it will spark my own expulsion. Even if it means not seeing his sons in his lifetime.

Pushing me inside the car, he explained to me that he will bring me to our ancestral house where my aunt lives. An asylum for a year or forever perhaps until everything cools down. For an exchange that I will never tell anyone of what happened.

I’ve long prepared myself to be ready in case he wishes to cut his ties with me.

But it was me who was taken aback. For what I’ve seen and heard were something I never thought my dad will be. Tears were flowing and silent sobs made him looked helpless.

“I’m sorry son.”

To be continued...

Bastardo (Second Part)

2011-04-26T14:47:00.005+06:00

Bastardo (First Part)

Years after the “kidnapping” incident and after the government has tracked the underground businesses, we have gone into hiding and moved into different places. The farthest we have reached was Oriental Mindoro and stayed there for half a year.

Movements also resulted into changing schools. While it is a norm to transfer schools, I have later learned that our movements is far from what was usual. During elementary, I have studied in 10 schools - often re-enrolling in the middle of a school year. Consider this as an explanation why great things in childhood, save for Topeng’s friendship, were all forgotten.

But infiltrating places resulted in collapse of the entire fiscal order.. The mismanagement of funds while dad and his partner being jobless caused an almost catastrophic slump to everyone. In an attempt to overhaul or aide our ruptured fiscal situation, dad took some small jobs as an auto mechanic. With no empire to rule, all I saw was how debilitated he was on earning little. His pride, being at risk showed how he launched his defenses and fabricated lies to conceal our predicament.

With debts rising and the arrival of the youngest half-brother, the ex-stepmom moved to quell our almost insolvency by seeking opportunities once again overseas. As the cases at bar ended up in vain and court ruling on our side, the ex-stepmom sought the chance of working in Northern Mariana Islands.

It was later found out that the migration of the ex-stepmom triggered her separation to my dad’s. Unaware of the family’s issues, the separation only became apparent when the youngest half-brother was sent to his mom’s relatives and the ex-stepmom’s second daughter (who is half-Japanese) was taken back into her custody.

It was me and dad who became the biggest casualties of this disunion. Movements still occurred then, while dad, trying to sustain a living for two still did side jobs as an auto mechanic. Fortunes started to flow as dad hit somewhat huge by foraying into buy and sell.

Soon dad found a new partner who until today is the de facto stepmother. She used to be a next door neighbor who just came back from Down Under after giving birth to a daughter. Aside from being a divorcee, she has three children. The first of which was adopted, while the second one was a half-breed denizen and the third one was her lovechild from a past flame.

Our meetings were civil and cold perhaps. Back in the days when their relationship wasn’t public yet, I’ve had strong suspicions of liaisons between her and dad. More evidence surfaced when I later found dad going out her garage at wee hours. But being indifferent on a lot of things and my incapacity to questions dad’s authority because of fear, I chose to remain silent on the event.

Turns out that my speculations were true. The scandal plagued us for months causing once again another series of migration. Dad and his new partner, who I will name here as Casilda, have merged their respective households.

I was on 6th grade by then.

As the rumors became total facts and the scandal expanded into wider girth, came a news that will challenge my entire perspective during the teenage years.

Dad denied my rights to attend the graduation ceremony.

In his fears of being exposed to the public.

To be continued...

Bastardo (First Part)

2011-04-23T23:45:00.001+06:00

Looking back six to ten years ago, images of a dwindling life existed. Nothing and none appeased my morale. I knew from the very start that my hands can never be full of things like what others have. When most had their fondest memories in their childhood, mine remains to be an account untold in recent times. Telling so might not enthrall the spirits of the past life, but narrating might help bury the decades old history that continues to plow in my recent nightmares.

I was well aware since seven that my arrival in the family was an unexpected and more so, an ugly one. Dad, being legally hitched to his former high school teacher had issues of womanizing and all the ploys that comes with it. Dad met mom in a beerhouse as a club dancer and guest relations officer (GRO) during the time his marriage was falling apart. Months later, Mom moved to Dad’s house. The brother was asked to stay, much to the animosity of the legal wife. I am not sure if “ako ang legal wife” scene ensued but recent accounts tell how the legal wife, until today is bitterly sored from the separation that was never legalized.

I was two when Mom left to be a performer in Japan and more tales of womanizing surfaced. Rumor has it that on my fifth birthday, seven stepmothers have already been part of my early childhood. It was on my first grade when dad sought again a wife figure. This time with a woman with two off-springs and in later years will bore the half-brother whom I consider the youngest. For what seemed to be a coincidence, the ex-stepmom was also a performer in Japan.

I learned how to cook rice on a stove top and wash the dishes at the age of seven to assert my membership within the family - only to be later broken when arguments over fiscal order in the house emerged. The family once owned a large empire of automotive businesses in the metro, but fell down when the government intervened with the operations due to legal conflicts. Other than the taxi franchise which remains operating today with someone else’s ownership, the entire empire was underground. Afterwards, we have gone into hiding, moving houses, transferring schools to hide from the authorities.

Mom came back days after my eighth birthday. Through my aunt in the paternal side, she was able to track us. Mom took me to a Japanese restaurant where I was met by other paternal side aunts who conspired for the rendezvous. There, I was also introduced to her husband (who I suspect to be a Yakuza) and my half-sister in the Japanese bloodline. My father, left unaware of the event suspected of a bogus scheme when I wasn’t home before sunset. It wasn’t until the maids squealed when kidnapping became a local headline. My father, along with his amigos tracked our whereabouts.

Gunshots were fired in the air. Mom’s husband pulled out a rifle from the car’s passenger seat. Much as I would like to be amazed that for the first time I saw guns and heard their shots, fear has clouded my senses when mom, a meter away from me fired her own pistol to dad’s camp. When the police force intervened, exchanges of bullets stopped. The last thing I remembered was spending a night at Camp Karingal while everybody was being interrogated by the policemen. The event, once again separated me from Mom whose motives of seeing me that eventful day never became apparent to me.

We were all discharged the next day but the trauma in me persisted in years. Since then, I knew my life has been different compared to others I get to play with at the streets. Much as I would like to abandon the foothold dad built for us, greater whips are waiting to lash out at us.

To be continued...

Imagery

2011-04-14T23:42:00.002+06:00

Burger King,

We built our own world as we tried to separate our lives from the undesirable realities of this universe. You came into life in the advent of my surrender in exploring infinity. Just when I thought that fate made it harder for me to achieve solace in the midst of darkness, it was you who wiped away my fears that light may never dawn on me.

It is a concession that I was mere dumbfounded by your fascinating presence. Unbeknownst to everyone around us that eventful night, ours was a journey waiting to unravel while theirs have ended on that pit stop. Our exchanges of random conversations made me very thrilled to seek you. While around us is a world full of watchful onlookers, it was with those stolen and unguarded moments you have shown your intentions to secure me from my fears.

Once we thought of sailing the oceans and conquering the winds to see what the world is missing. While I have never been dismissive of our silly daydreams, my greatest solace was found through connecting the stars thus, creating your own constellation.

Our trysts on the burger stand and the “lugawan” was more than fruitful enough it prevents me to let you go even for a fleeting second. But needless to say, our bonds speak of eternal longings that it makes our separations almost inseparable. The heart has learned to quiver once more, not just for a beautiful soldier who picked me up from a repulsive battle, but also for a mentor who believed in my capability to stand up on the downfall from anarchy.

Now that the heart has repulsed and learned to speak of an epic language yet alien in my recent memory, let me take you to a journey of wide and serene dimensions. We may have sought thousand folds of epiphanies to reckon the latitude of our life’s directions, but here we are slowly learning the process of our own evolvement. You brought me into peace once again. Now, let me teach myself to not forget your name anymore. Just like how it was the first time.

******

If only such tales are not bound to end.

Now that both of us are goners, here I go again rethinking if I am really fit. To love.

Bumaba ako sa jeepney

Kung saan tayo'y dating magkatabi
Magkahalik ang pisngi nating dalawa
Nating dalawa
Panyo mo sa aking bulsa
O ang kahapon mo'y naroon pa rin
Tawa nati'y humahalay
Sa init nating dalawa
Subalit ngayo'y wala na (wala na)
Ikaw ay lumayo na (lumayo na)
Naaalala ko ang mga gabing nakahiga sa ilalim ng kalawakan
Naaalala ko ang mga gabing magkatabi sa ulan

- Jeepney | Sponge Cola | Palabas (2004)

PLU

2011-04-09T14:47:00.001+06:00

The last entry revealed what the heart truly speaks of. In years when the identity of the past flame was concealed with words, digression was sought to bury what else is left for the heart to grapple. Devoting some years to a man whose heart was intertwined with someone else but with material longings bestowed for me to carry, were some lost years that slaughtered what else if left for me to love.

Hence, it was made difficult for me to talk about what really happened. I wish not to assert here as the prime victim of the ugly war, but the difficulty to rise after the downfall became apparent as the victor emerged from the struggle. To show how dominant the ex-partner was, it became very easy for him to walk amidst the judgment of the few who saw how depressing our situation has become.

But with incessant silence on the struggle made the baggage harder for me to carry. Words may have been elusive to depict the accounts of the war years but the tales of the malignant wounds were evident to show how broken the soul was.

It took me years to pick up the missing pieces of the tragedy and narrate it to those who have patiently waited to hear who I truly was.

For years, the existence of my identity and the preference that comes with it was eclipsed from certain friends. Perhaps, it was the fear of prejudice and possible persecution that kept me from constant hiding. Time came when I was ready to tell the truth, the news was met with a warm reception from the group.

Emancipation was beckoned to absolve myself from the hidden truths.

Truth is, the more I withhold some relevant facts about me makes me more distant to a camaraderie whose allegiance I have faithfully sworn to. Denying my preferences will only result into constant guilt haunting me at the end of the day.

I have once said that labels will never define who we truly are as a person. Only if we dare to show how human we are we will truly be accepted. Sexuality should never be approached as a complicated mechanism of the global order.

Thus, concludes an era where realities were clouded with elusive facts to keep me from telling what the heart truly speaks of. This part of me will remain concealed to those who are not yet ready to accept such path I chose to tread. But my hope is the day when sexual preferences and acceptance will just become a trivial matter between kindred souls who wish to splice ideologies and aspirations.

In my case, I guess there are remaining stories inside the closet that are waiting to be unraveled. Weeks ago when I thought of deleting this space to open up a new one that will mark fresh beginnings. But just like what most of us have always believed in, it will be in continuous walking we can only achieve serenity. Such movement will only hinder me from being totally emancipated.

For I have never been sorry of what I have become.

Epilogue v. Prologue

2011-04-06T14:26:00.004+06:00

Hindi matatahimik ang blog na ito hangga’t hindi ko nailalahad ang kabiyak na kwento nito.

Ilang beses ko na ring nailahad dito ang naging kwento namin ng aking dating kabiyak na si Phantom. Ngunit sa pagnanasang maikubli ang pagkatao mula sa nakaraan ay naging mailap ang mga salita upang maisulat ang buong katotohanan.

Ngunit dahil wala na naman akong makitang dahilan upang ikubli ang buong pangyayari, nais kong ilahad ang mga huling oras kung saan ang negosasyon upang isalba ang aming natitibag na relasyon ay unti-unting gumuho.

From Globe: 0906-xxx-xxx has requested P40 load from you. To share load, reply YES.

Phantom: Salamat sa load mahal.

Me: Wala ka ng load? Eh di ba kakapasa ko lang sa’yo ng P50 kanina? Kala ko ba nag-unli ka?

Phantom: Wala na, tumawag kasi ako kina Mama kanina eh.

Me: Ahhh.

Phantom: Galit ka ba sa akin? Sige, simula ngayon hindi na ako manghihingi ng load sa’yo!

Me: Wala naman akong sinasabi, nagtataka lang ako naubos kaagad yung load na pinasa ko kanina.

Phantom: So ngayon nanunumbat ka na? Ano pa, wag kang magaalala, mababayaran ko din lahat ng binigay mo sa akin, pati ung pinambayad mo ng tuition sa kapatid ni _____ (Phantom’s partner).

Phantom: Yung sapatos at iPhone na regalo mo sa akin noong Pasko, pati yung pamasahe ni Mama para makabalik ng probinsya. Huwag kang magalala, isasauli ko lahat sayo!

But instead of retaliating by counting all the resentments I felt about the on and off relationship which only existed because of money, it was only silence I kept in hours which created the pits that eventually led to the final fall-out.

Ang hirap palang mamuhay ng nangungulila sa isang taong may pananagutan na sa iba. At kahit alam kong ilang beses kong ipagdikdikan ang sarili ko sa iyo, darating ang gabi at iba ang magiging kaulayaw mo.
Talo ako pa din ako.
Don't get me wrong, I am not asking for your attention or whatever it is to make me feel better. Ang gusto ko lang naman ay hayaan mo akong makabangon at makapagsimula ng bagong buhay.
Sakaling marinig mo ang nakabibinging katahimikan, isipin mong pilit ko pa ring pinaghihilom ang mga sugat ng nakaraang bumago sa takbo ng buhay ko.

Paalam.

-an email to the Phantom, March 4, 2010. Posted March 4, 2011.

Naging malaking unos ang mamuhay sa isang relasyon na ikaw lang ang nagpapatakbo. Isang relasyon na sa simula pa lamang ay malaking pagkakamali sa mata ng lahat. Isang relasyong umiikot sa materyal na bagay at pera. Isang relasyong nanatili lamang buhay dahil sa mga pansariling ambisyon ng kabiyak. Isang relasyong kung sakaling pumutok ay magiging sanhi ng pagdurusa nang mga pusong biktima lamang ng kapalaran. Isang relasyon kung saan sa bandang huli ay ikaw ang lalabas na may kasalanan. Isang relasyong nagdala sa kumonoy nang kalungkutan kasama ng maraming pusong sugatan.

Mahigit isang taon na ang lumipas, ngunit nanatili pa ring sariwa ang sugat na bumalot sa nakaraan. Wala na ang pag-ibig, ngunit nagdala ang karanasan ng matinding takot upang ibaling muli ang puso sa iba.

Mahigit isang taon na ang lumipas, isa pa rin akong bangungot ng nakaraan.

Pilit ko mang balikan ang nakaraan at alamin ang mga dahilan kung bakit naging mali ang lahat sa aming dalawa. Alam kong ako ang higit na may kasalanan.

Ang kasalanang mahalin ang isang taong may pananagutan na sa iba at kunsintihin ang kagustuhan niyang makuha ang mga bagay ng hindi pinaghihirapan.

Alam kong ipipilit pa rin niya hanggang ngayon kung saan kami nagkamali. Makailang ulit ko ng sinara ang isip ko upang pakinggan ang kaniyang maaaring maging paliwanag.

Na itinuring niyang isang malaking pagkakamali ang aming relasyon, dahil pareho kaming lalaki.

Finale

2011-03-31T21:02:00.000+06:00

This is the last curtain call at work.

While there is an open opportunity to narrate on this space how everything blew out of proportion and how things suddenly went wrong in an eye-blink, it was decided to cease the overflowing of words that will be unnecessary once the new chapter unfolds. Blame it on the indecisiveness of the author that first part of The Emancipation Chronicles was even posted.

It was instead decided to recount the magnificent things that voided what was presumed as three years in wilderness.

Perhaps it should also be confessed in this space that the pessimism of the author resulted into elusiveness of words. And instead of sending clarity with the message, vital parts of it became obscured.

But as the final hours approach, it is a desire to share some jovial laughter with those kindred souls who never hesitated to open their share of humanity.

Come April, interesting things are coming. Some interesting things this space lacks.

For now, someone will bow his head and give gratitude to an empire and its people he served with.

The Emancipation Chronicles: Part One (The Art of Politics)

2011-03-30T10:42:00.001+06:00

We have fanned the flames to one another. In a battle of survival where prolonged existence is at stake, comes the rupture of a stronghold. Hence, resulting into unprecedented divisions coming after the shocks of a global recession where only the fittest rule. All of which were proven to be ominous to the company’s stakes.

For years, we were hounded by the dominant minority aiming to overrule the system. It was a constant plague that others chose to live with wordless hatreds thus forming the silent majority. The fraction thereof took it a thwart to their liberties forming an opposition. Though denial to these factions has remained resilient from the powers above, it can never be concealed that the shards have weakened the backbones of the struggling empire.

The game of survival is easy. In order to survive the pressures of the business and its people, a powerless has to associate oneself with the minority to gain a piece of spotlight. But with instant popularity comes a price. The oath of allegiance results to ineptitude and complacency, effectively wrecking one’s efficiency to work. The oath of allegiance means to be the laughing stock and center of bullying of the faction. For turning back and leaving could end into future mishaps awaiting.

This explains how I became distant with the crowd at work. Who am I to forget the attacks, that no matter subtle they were, never singled out any presumption about me? The blows were indirect but construed as an attempt of the powerful minority to have solace sought under their helm.

I never became their willing prey and was viewed as a peril to their own gains.

The cardinal rule was never to have anyone gain comfort under my icy presence and thaw the silence I casted towards the crowd around me. But with gradual movements aimed to defeat the establishment became imminent, there came an urge to throw the faith with those who chose to fight.

During the course of war were hapless victims who soon became goners. All victims were accounted for retaliation and system manipulation. On times when justice had been elusive, it was the law we counted on to ensure rights were worded out when no one has attempted to listen. And when the courts have spoken, there we were not savoring the victory. But we were there recounting the recent tragedies of this awful anarchy.

What the opposition never sought was the influence and power the minority holds. The struggling movement aims to defang the poisonous culture this evil dynasty of friendship has established. Because once the impatient and voiceless mob has spoken of their abhorrence to the system’s failure, they will seek their own whips to lash out their accounts of agonies. Thus following the exodus many has elected to utilize as a saving instrument from the boat that is foreseen to sink.

This art of politics has been few of the forerunners to my own exodus. Many times when I sought for an iron fist to rectify the culture that everyone has chosen to live with incessant nightmares. But when peace has never been an imminent chapter to unfold, it is time to rethink of those personal goals - almost set aside. And when evil ambitions to manipulate a system has launched into grander heights of malevolence, then it must be the much awaited sign - emancipating oneself from the failed system has been the best recourse.

War may not be over. But as I end this journey in a few days, it satisfies my muses. That in the end, it is enough to say that hell awaits to those who retaliated.

The Need To Be A Ninong

2011-03-28T13:14:00.004+06:00

It seems that Trey is having the time of his life being an older brother to his newly born sister, Ayla. Being the only kid in the household for three years, expectations of possible qualms or jealousy were set by the elders to avoid an ugly escalation.

Which brought us in a surprise to find him being excited and playful with the arrival of his baby sister, who will soon be my goddaughter.

It took me more than two months to see Trey again. That was the longest since ratifying the visitation rights which were then set in a weekly basis. Promise to visit the old flame after labor was even broken after a schedule fucked-up. Hence, an embarrassment to the couple who were waiting for my arrival.

Theories of negligence to my kid occupied the mind few months ago. The fear that the lad will be left behind upon the arrival of the then unborn will surely left me incensed. Such negligence could alter the harmonious relationship both parties enjoy at the moment. And just when I thought of raising my concern to the couple, a great feat alleviated the tension that kept me restless for weeks.

“Si Mark nga ang madalas mag-alaga kay Trey. Kapag cranky ako, it was him who usually brings him out on a park or sa mall.”

What Dina quipped, for sure will keep my mouth shut forever. Such moves were unprecedented. Most especially when someone you can really call your own flesh has come. But to cling yourself to someone whose flesh traces from a man who made your life complicated establishes a different story - a kindred perseverance I will forever be in gratitude.

To return the favor, I have expected myself to carry on new responsibilities as the closest confidant of the couple. Upon the enactment of godfatherhood to the newly born, a promise was made to become involved with the growth of the child.

As of this posting, the couple welcomed an idea of also having me called “Daddy” by the youngest, one which I would never decline once Ayla learns to speak. Thus speaks of the establishment of our renewed relationship.

This, I hope is an atonement to the evil spell we have succumbed ourselves into years ago. Back in the days when our nights were filled with ugly faces of humanity, future was unheard off. If the establishment of this redesigned order speaks of our evolution, we may have found the foothold to compensate our past shortcomings.

Photo removed.

A Prose For The Guru

2011-03-27T07:33:00.007+06:00

Perhaps it was my full appreciation of language and history that’s why the concepts of table of elements and even algebra were never embraced. It must be confessed that no matter how my high school credentials looked colorful, it revealed how mediocre my efforts were in science and math.

Until now, I am amazed yet unsure with how Sir Brix was able to convinced me that Physics was fun and easy. Maybe it was his clever strategy on teaching or perhaps his passion on Physics that made every session seamless.

His Physics classes has always been eventful. The theory of relativity, thermodynamics, chaos theory, and others may be alien for someone who was never known with great competence in the academic discipline. When others have resulted in pragmatism, there he was being a catalyst for his intellectual and artistic contributions to make learning in a public education system an ease.

I never knew of his personal life and the struggles that came with it. It was a big surprise to all when once, he interrupted his class and revealed to us his share of humanity. Flaws as they may be, but this event made him a revered personality behind the citadels of the age-old classroom. We were all juveniles, yet his respect for each student’s capability to grasp learning through different ways made him a kindred soul.

It should never be denied in this space how Sir Brix came to touch my existence. I knew of my own flaws. The concession that science will never be my cup of tea was fortified before the advent of Physics. That is why it came to me as a shock when I was hailed the Best in Science on graduation day. It came to me as a big surprise of the night that I stumbled upon ascending the stage before being honored of the award.

Few years later, our ties were barely spoken but was strengthened through the faith and values we shared. Half a year ago, we were able to catch up through Facebook. My cynical perspectives with the present life along with the ambivalence towards the future made him a great figure to rely on times we felt our lives are in the midst of unrest. No wonder, many souls sought for his words of wisdom when they felt their lives needed a peaceful recourse.

There is no amount of gratitude that will compensate his selfless acts when humanity has succumbed to its selfish deeds. We are all but human, yet he chose to make himself different by throwing his faith to the Creator along with those who chose to believe. Life is a great thing that happened to each of us, he said.

I am one of the living testament on how his life became a memorable journey.

For if there is another legacy Sir Brix will be constantly remembered, it was his unselfish act to lend his craft for words and music on a song each generation of students have sung from the institution’s founding and for more years to come.

Tonight, we look upon the heavens and wish for his peaceful ascendancy with the Creator. Many people who have been touched by his existence preferred if he still belongs to us. But we look to that fine day when we will see him again, strong and smiling once again.

As he joins hands with his Savior, may the sorrow of this parting be gone forever.

Sinisintang Paaralan
Duyan ka ng karunungan
Pinanday mong laman ng isipan
Hinubog mo itong aking buhay.

-Partial Lyrics of Sinisintang Paaralan, DFDJHS Hymn
Music and Lyrics: Sir Brix Valencia

For There Will Be No Mercy

2011-03-24T08:30:00.002+05:00

It is important to note that democracy is a well-fought labor of our founding fathers. The century old democratic struggle made the people and state sovereign above anyone’s authority. It is more than important to realize that in the post - world wars era, where global order was re-established upon the downfall of the most powerful empires, an attempt to undermine the intellect of an embattled nation paves way to an anarchy to overcome the threats to its own liberty.

Impeachment is a political mechanism to remove obnoxious public officials, most importantly a constitutional mandate that seeks to assert the rule of law against those who violates the rights of the nation and its people.

We all thought we can never see this happen again. That the most recent one we witnessed was a decade ago where an impeachment trial was brought into the streets by an angry mob due to their rage from the bias of the court’s judges who have sworn to act with impartiality. The result of the mob trial - was the ouster and incarceration of a leader convicted of corruption and charged of incompetence, only later to be pardoned by his successor who toppled him in the bloodless revolution.

We never thought that we can see a super-majority of 212 congressmen and women voting to impeach Merceditas Gutierrez, the country’s chief - corruption investigator - of all the ironic truths. This would have been a big illusion under the preceding administration. But to heed the calls of a “matuwid na daan” from the incumbent President and the constituents of these 212 representatives, brings back the democratic institution once ruled by a tyrannical majority to the hands of the people who owns it.

Now that the Supreme Court has finally spoken, who will save her?
Image from here

Notice how this became a historical event: the ruling coalition and progressive left movement who are always at odds to one another assimilated themselves politically to perform the symbolic votes hoping to be one step closer from prosecuting the ex-president who chose to hide under the turf of the House of the People.

This remains a historic vote, despite some pathetic attempts of the vindicated minority to block the sweeping votes against their ally who portrays herself a victim of dark politics. It is very clear. The tides have turned against the minority led by Edcel Lagman who accuses the majority of partisan vendetta which they were notorious back in the days they were in the majority.

If this trial against Ombudsman Gutierrez once again fails in the hands of the Senate, Senators seeking for re-election or a captivating legacy should hold on for dear life. For they will possibly face the malevolence of an angry electorate whose patience was tested for years of being undermined by the unprecedented axis of evils which manipulated the nation for nine years.

Random: LK

2011-03-17T07:15:00.003+05:00

Minsan na ring sinabi sa akin ng dati kong pinormahan na itago na lang natin sa pangalang Kopiko na aayawan niya ako kapag hindi ko sineryoso ang pagpapapayat. Mukha kasing naaalarma na siya sa madalas kong paghingal tuwing may date kami. Biro ko naman: "Sorry, pero mas mahalaga sa akin ang lechong kawali at extra rice kesa sa pagtingin ko sa iyo."

Hindi pala nagbibiro si Kopiko. Matapos ang ilang linggong lokohan, tinapos namin ang kabalbalan bago pa umabot sa linlangan ang relasyon namin. Hindi naman kasi niya sinabi sa akin na ang tipo pala niyang i-cuddle pag rest day niya eh si Machete at hindi sa katulad kong pwedeng pumasang susunod na Free Willy. In short, naghahanap pala siya ng trophy boyfriend, and none of my physical attributes will suffice for the requirements Kopiko needs.

Syempre, mukha na naman akong loser at emo nung ikwento ko sa tropa yung nangyari.

Sabagay, napaka-depressing nga namang isipin na lumipas lang ang limang taong pagtatrabaho eh lumobo ang katawan mo. Kung dati-rati madaling maka-iskor sa labanan ng prospecting, kulang na lang ayawan ka pati ng sarili mong pamilya dahil mukha na daw akong elepante. Ang kaso mo, mukhang out of place talaga ako pag may family picture. Nahihirapan kasi sila ipwesto ako sa tabi ng mga hunk at sexy na mga pinsan na alam kong darating ang panahong maglolobohan din.

Siyempre, para maging full-house ang pagiging badtrip, mas masaya kung pumunta ka ng reunion ng high school, college at mga dating katrabaho. Tapos ipapakita nila sa'yo yung pictures nung unang panahon para gawing mala-before and after yung eksena. Kung dati-rati, madalas feeling discriminated ako sa mga kantiyaw, ngayon halos kainin ko na lang ang pride at mauuna pa ako sa pag-bully sa sarili.

Yummy and deadly. Image from here.

Marami akong conspiracy theories sa biglaang paglobo ng katawan ko. Sino ba naman kasi ang mag-aakalang ang isang dating mukhang malnourished na 95 lbs na totoy eh magiging fully grown 215 lbs na Godzilla? Pero, itatabi ko muna sa sarili ko ang mga iyon dahil nakaka-depress talagang isipin.

At dahil nga nag-resign na ako sa trabaho at balik-eskwela muna, sinabi ko sa sarili na kakaririn ko na ang pagpapapayat. Tutal, 22 pa lang naman ako at malaki pa daw ang pag-asa na maibalik sa ayos ang katawan. And instead of bumming around for the whole month of April, naka-focus ang sunrise moments ko sa pagtakbo sa palibot ng SM Fairview para mapakinabangan pa ako ng mundo for the next 50-60 years. Mahirap din naman na kasi mauuna ka pa kesa sa Tatay mo na higit kalahating siglo na sa mundo eh on the go pa din.

And despite the fact that my son doesn't fully rely his needs to me, it will be better if I see him grow, kesa ako ang madalaw kapag November 1 sa Memorial Park.

At dahil, alam ng maraming katropa ang pangangailangang pisikal, mukhang todo suporta sila sa akin ngayon. In fact, nagsimula na kaming magpalista sa mga marathon para naman kahit papaano, madamayan ako ng tropa sa napakalaking problema ko. Nakakataba ng puso kung iisipin, pero darating ang panahon na kailangan kong maging independent sa kanila, they have also their own lives to run at the first place.

No matter how depressing it is, kung meron namang tropa na maasahan.

Kung nandiyan naman ang madalas mong kasama sa lugawan at burger stand na inaasam mong maging parte sa pagbuo ng kinabukasan.

At kung ayaw ko naman talagang matupad ang bangungot na maging residente sa babuyan habangbuhay.

Tuloy pa din ang pag-asang hindi ako sa Philippine Heart Center aabutan ng huling hininga.

*LK - Lechong Kawali

The Predator

2011-03-13T17:00:00.005+05:00

It was a constant hunger to let the soul devour an equally hungry prey. On nights like this when the itch is inevitable, wandering beneath the city lights is more than usual to let the howling pressures be noticed by anyone who wants oneself be succumbed to a hungry predator.

Only to find myself lapsing through the pain of remembering an utterly painful detachment from the values I kept in years to prepare for the one's arrival.

Behind the insensitive deed was the impatience of withdrawing myself from the inherent ferocity the soul desires to emit once in a while. The prey, whose intention of attachment becomes known upon the acts of submission gets swamped by the ugly truths behind the deceptive fornication.

On itch-ful but tiresome nights like this when the soul only longs for tenfolds of yearnings to rely on, the very earthly desires are simply ignored to patiently wait for the arrival of the unknown being whose destination might have been straddled by an obstructive intersection that prolongs the agony of waiting.

That on nights like this, a weary me secretly wishes for only warm hugs and kisses to supplant the fears of being unappreciated.

The night, being young, keeps the option of assaulting for a fleeting relief from the thirstful anguish the body emits. But to live through the gnashing aftermath of the earthly battle strenghtens my desires to dissent from any instant gratification the world can offer.

Thus, I choose to suspend the earthly indiscretions. Tonight, I turn on the music as I patiently wait for the willing stranger who shall come from the mass of humanity walking on the same destination I am bounded.

Further sufferings from the highly ignored itch may alienate me from sanity. But there are hopes to intertwine myself to dreams, once again believing that fate will never falter.

Hence, the night ends as I surrender myself to the confines of this bedroom - as I let myself drown from the chants of the lovely rhythms played by this age-old music player.

Lame Duck

2011-03-07T15:18:00.001+05:00

They say that the last few days I have left at work remains a symbolic gesture to uphold allegiance to the company and portray continuity. The intentions of defection became lucid when the resignation letter reached the desks of the honchos. It came as a surprise to everyone that the news spread like wildfire. Speculations keep on mounting that queries have started to pile up, all I can manage is to throw a smile.

The transition, was supposed to be a seamless one. But it became known that the transition will approach a bigger spectrum of responsibilities on my behalf. Beneath the thoughts of a short vacation that comes after freedom is the fear of not being able to sustain the promises of self-redemption. Truth be told, I wish to end the journey with a high but most that I can think of lately is to initiate detachment to the extants of the bulging loopholes who long to fight until the last blood.

The defection has caused turmoil that another round of reorganization will follow upon leaving. Rumor has it that a number will soon follow the diaspora. Attrition has been the highest in history and higher recruitment standards made it impossible to meet the expectations of finding replacements sooner. To see this fall down in infamy will be very harsh to think off.

But to stop the exodus will be futile. Many have seen how the recent reorganization plot take the toll on its manpower, including me whose sleep lately has been reduced due to incessant worries that I won't survive the pressures from the new business practice. New as it might be, but it remains to be an obsolete method that many top corporations have eliminated in the advent of information technology and social media. To convince the swelling number of people to postpone leaving will only end up in vain.

And maybe because I became disenchanted with the news of greater earning potential as a result of the structural recalibration.

This, I fear is how the transition looks like. It is an established fear that the last breaths will blow into full cynical leanings. What else is left for those who pledged their unquestionable allegiance is cryptic. While there are open options to stay and throw my faith along with those who chose to hang around amidst the ambivalence of survival, personal goals should never be compromised.

Lame duck (n): one whose position or term of office will soon end.

Phantom: Reloaded

2011-03-04T07:43:00.003+05:00

Ang hirap palang mamuhay ng nangungulila sa isang taong may pananagutan na sa iba. At kahit alam kong ilang beses kong ipagdikdikan ang sarili ko sa iyo, darating ang gabi at iba ang magiging kaulayaw mo.

Talo ako pa din ako.

Don't get me wrong, I am not asking for your attention or whatever it is to make me feel better. Ang gusto ko lang naman ay hayaan mo akong makabangon at makapagsimula ng bagong buhay.

Sakaling marinig mo ang nakabibinging katahimikan, isipin mong pilit ko pa ring pinaghihilom ang mga sugat ng nakaraang bumago sa takbo ng buhay ko.

Paalam.

-an email to the Phantom, March 4, 2010.

Exactly a year ago when it all ended. I have always thought that serenity comes once I attained freedom. Yet, I might have gone very wrong. Love has gone for a long time but the struggles that inscribed the sordid agonies will incessantly protrude in recent memory.

One year after, I fear that my presence remains to be the fragments of an annihilated past.

State of Defection

2011-02-24T08:32:00.003+05:00

The decision to leave has been known. Transition officially begins today. :( - 23 Feb, via web

Amidst the talks of reorganization was the declaration of my resignation. The plot, though well crafted since late last year has been announced only yesterday. It may have caused turmoil as the company struggles to rebuild its shaking manpower, but for me, it meant a welcoming change for that insignificant part of me. The work has caused me to grow deeper complacency. Much as I would like to deny it, but the dreams have been left behind in exchange for the efforts to help build an empire whose loopholes are now starting to turn against its own people.

It may have been a shame that the divulgence was made in time of mass exodus from the workforce. But a valid reason was given to reassure the top management that I won't seek opportunities elsewhere - the call to study. Many times in the past when we have witnessed defections from the most proficients jumped into the boat of a rising competitor in the industry, whose fates remains ambiguous. The past events of exodus didn't stop me from being highly motivated into what we are required to do. There were moments that I sought the heavens to reassure myself that staying was right. That despite the vindictiveness found at the forums of Pinoy Exchange from some online forces two years ago, the decision to stay was fortified.

Even if it means shouldering the reputation of being a sell-out.

The revelation was surprising to many. Rarely that I am being found of attendance issues. For three years, I recently received the third one as a verbal warning for the lates I incurred since September. I wish not to assert myself here as arrogant but diligence has been on top of my priority since I started working inside a corporate realm. Performance has rarely been a concern but lately, the fluctuation of my efficiency has been a wakening call to abort. Being a liability to the corporate payroll is the last thing I foresaw but remains a possibility.

The early notice for defection was made to make the reorganization seamless. Being out of the list, the top management can now determine the changes in terms of work order and responsibilities that I was supposed to partake.

Ask me what I feel now, I can feel sadness. On times when resignation was but a mere concept, I was thinking how rubbish and overconfident I will be on sending the message of defection. But for the first time, I have never been so apologetic as I was yesterday.

I feel - blue. How I wish it is easy to say goodbye to an organization I have grown attached with, to the number of people whom I shared bond with (no matter how distant I am to everyone) and to a habit that occupied the three years of insignificance yet instrumental to my growth as an individual.

The stint will be effective until March 31. The letter to formalize the resignation hasn't been submitted yet though the intention has been known. As for the bosses' questions if the decision is final - yes. Managing studies together with work is a difficult one - or probably next to impossible. It has been explained that in order for us to move atop of our personal goals, we have to leave a few things behind.

Expectations set for the transition. Assured management that the lame-duck appearance will be productive till successor is chosen & settled. - 11 hours ago, via web

I wish not to think that my existence will be a filler in the wait. With five more weeks left to serve the resignation, it has been assured that my appearance until the end will remain as efficient as possible.

Should a back be turned from this decision and the declaration be retracted, thoughts of the future will haplessly occupy the mind.

The Little Children's Home

2011-02-20T21:52:00.000+05:00

Save for my son and the brother's descendants, I don't consider myself very openly close to children. On events where children are included, I would normally be seen distant to the crowd. The physical distance seem to bring a cold spell between me and the children but my heart would always say otherwise. I find solace hearing the gentle giggles or seeing the priceless smiles these children create. The moment I find myself carrying an infant or a toddler, that is the only time an assimilation settles. This is regardless of a need to throw verbal attempts to connect. Preserving my silence creates an immortal bond with the child.

Late last year when the Breakfast Club has planned to include an outreach program to our first Christmas party. Part of the funds we have contributed went to the charity fund. In the spirit of the yuletide season, the outreach was planned to be done on December. However, conflicts on our personal schedules have precluded us to forego with the activity. But the changes in schedule and recipient didn't stop us to continue the goodwill. Our delegation later stormed an orphanage named The Little Children's Home in Taytay.

Upon our arrival, we were greeted by the orphanage's social workers. Much to our surpise, we found out that the orphanage is being managed by Deborah Gustafson, an American national. Deb told us that her father drafted the backbone behind the orphanage. HELP International Ministries, the larger umbrella behind the orphanage was founded in 1986, aiming to help the marginalized by providing shelter, health, dignity and goodness. In collaboration with the Department of Social Welfare and Development, they find a permanent shelter to those young souls deprived of parental care. They host a court of 15 children, all between 0-4 years of age.

I was expecting to hear more of dreary accounts behind the children's isolation from their real families. Media lately portray news of children being abandoned by their mothers in someone's doors, streets or aborted and horribly boxed in a bin or dumpsites. To hear that the children's parents have personally given up their rights due to poverty makes it a different story. Sordid as it may seem, but the mothers seek the institution's assistance from pregancy to labor. Shiphrah Birthing Home, the sister organization of the orphanage is a bahay-paanakan designed to help the women's pregnancy.

During our conversation with Deb (who happens to speak Filipino, fluently.), I am contemplating if touching the infant Victor would do me good. Desires of feeling the warmth of an infant creeped into me once again. I recalled that the early months of Trey turned ugly between our families that touching my own son was restricted. Less than a year after when a ceasefire was called by the two parties.

Gathering strength to do so, Victor later found himself being cuddled by a fatherly figure. By the moment I casted my arms into Victor's delicate body, I have found peace knowing that he and his orphanage buddies will soon find a home. Be it either they return to their own families or through a kind and loving couple willing to provide a permanent shelter.

Victor has an asthma, apparently.

I wish to find the answers on how abandonment has rather become mundane. Beneath the different reasons given by Deb, the pain that these little abandoned souls might suffer upon knowing their afflictive beginnings will remain beyond my comprehension. If not only for the existing diplomacy and friendship I keep with own son's mother, then he could have been no different with these little angels after all.

Whether this act of benevolence our group did will commence into reaching more souls in the days or years to come, I can never tell. As for me who has found comfort seeing this multitude of angels with an unconditional security and love from total strangers, the calling may have been found.

The act should never remain in vain.

The Breakfast Club with TLC's orphans and Deb Gustafson

You can also be of help to these little angels.

The Little Children's Home
No. 6 Liwayway St. Blooming Hills Subdv. Tikling, Taytay, Rizal
Deborah Gustafson - Executive Director
658.4503
http://www.helpintl.org/tlchome.html

Moments Of Solitude

2011-02-19T18:21:00.004+05:00

I felt the world stopped while sipping the last drops of the macchiato I bought two hours ago. While waiting for someone to arrive, all I saw was how the world busily revolves around me as they rush towards their own destinations. Am I getting left behind? Why are these people getting pre-occupied with their present lives when I am contemplating on how the future should look like.

In front of me is an aged laptop that contains spreadsheets of pipelines and marketing details for the upcoming enterprise. Beside it are papers needing scrutiny. I've been reading the papers the night before but my brain seems not to be cooperative. All these in front of me would either make or break the future. Armed with only few hours of sleep, futher analysis could take a toll on my sensory. While all the people are in rapid locomotion, there I was being laid-back with my present life yet being worried about the future.

Silence. I closed the laptop and placed the papers back in their folder. I drip the last drops of the coffee and took a long peek to the people around me.

Two tables away was a young college guy busily pressing his cellphone keypads. He might be waiting also for someone to arrive, I thought. I could sense agitation while he hardly presses the keypads of his phone. His heart might have been trembling with anxiety as he continues to form words on his phone. Minutes later, the girl he was waiting for arrived, apologetic of being too late for their rendezvous. The guy, probably contented to see the girl's face was dismissive of the incident. Moments after, a kiss brought the young couple into a romantic silence. They talked after. Much as I would like to pry into their conversation, the sight of the beautiful couple was already enough to put a smile on my face.

Then came the lofty laughters a few tables behind me that disrupted my observation of the young couple. On the table were six people wearing black shirts. Then came silence. I later heard the group talking about a fallen comrade whose life was taken by a ruthless hold-upper. Tears followed from a thin chap who was also wearing a white wristband apparently showing his condolonces to the fallen one. The details of the tragedy were unheard of, but the agony that exploded from the group made me chant with their cries for justice.

Three tables away when I sighted someone looking towards my directions. The person could possibly be curious on why I am carefully dissecting the world around me. Maybe a dirt on my face perhaps. I pulled out my weed-designed handkerchief and mapped it all over my face. Assured that any possible dirt was gone, I raised my right thumb to the person staring to seek approval. The approval asked was returned by a chuckle. Body language could have turned into exchanging more pleasantries and chuckles, or possibly a phone number but have chosen to return to what I am doing. Reverberation of inner voices were claiming that I chickened out but the intention of not breaking the solemnity of my solitude was prioritized.

So this is what I have become then. The pre-occupation of the future led me to forget how simple it is to be human. I forgot how it is to be aware of the revolving world. Had the moments of simple humanity failed to touch my soul, then shallow and cynical leanings will incessantly creep into my mind.

But what seem to be an unfinished business was about to be executed. Upon the friend's arrival, a note was written on the unconsumed tissue paper.

"Coffee jelly is on me the next time."

It was given to the person staring at me earlier, now a table away from me.

Ascension From The Trench

2011-02-13T12:49:00.003+05:00

Gone are the days when an act of disappearance is being executed during the lovefest. You see, being a number two to someone commited in the past brought me into slumping over isolation. I experienced walking along the isles of a festive mood, while all that is left within me are the desires to touch the lover's hands even for only a minute. To initiate a move of sending a greeting or even chocolates will possibly destroy the momentary pleasure the lover feels. Doing so will only protrude the flaws and exasperation I contain.

The day will pass without me being discovered hiding on a trench.

The act continued even after the attachments defected. Much as I would like to deny it, I succumbed to bitterness only to find myself being fumed by my own malevolence.

But come this year that I have never felt any resentment. The pains from failed affinities may be too much to handle but it has never been since then that my heart feels lighter. No one really inspires me though. I am not sure about how others will perceive it but this is the only time when the heart feels no longer accountable to anyone. I found enough reasons to wake up everyday. Friends are surprised to the revulsion of my mood. They have always presumed that someone is behind the lighter atmosphere my soul creates.

They've said that I have never been the same before. Truth is, I have never heard myself erupted an infectious laughter before. The more I see the good in humanity, the more I become susceptible to glee the atmosphere emits.

Dreams may conquer the mind ocassionally. The pang of loneliness may take advantage of a fragile state once in a while. The fear of knowing someone new may consume too much musings at times. But a well fortified patience in waiting was gained.

I don't know how the struggles are slowly decaying.

It feels good to smile with sincerity once again.

"Manong magkano ho yung red roses?" I asked the vendor of the articial flowers stationed in front of the school.

"Tatlong piso ang isa." The manong, who just entertained the lads who bought the white plastic roses, said.

"Pahingi po ng 20."

That was in 2004. I remember giving four to my teachers and the others were distributed to the closest girl friends in high school. A white one was also given to the first girlfriend if I am correct.

After an officemate tipped about the heart-shaped chocolate being sold in 7-11 the other night, some chocolates may be brought tomorrow for the officemates' consumption.

To all the singles and the couples out there, I wish all of us a Happy Valentines Day!

Imburnal

2011-02-10T07:55:00.001+05:00

Nangyari lamang ito nung Biyernes ng umaga.

Dala nang labis na pagmamadali upang mahabol ang dyip na aking sasakyan pauwi ay natisod na naman ako sa imburnal na madalas kong inirereklamo sa pagiging bukas nito. Tinatayang dalawampung talampakan ang lalim nito at sinumang mahulog dito ay malalagay sa matinding peligro. Kung gaano kadalas ang muntikan ko nang pagkahulog sa madilim na lagusan ay ang ilang beses ding pagwawalang-bahala ng mga otoridad na malapit sa lugar na iyon.

Ngunit sa pagkakataong iyon ay mukhang hindi ko na matakasan ang kinakatakutang insidente. Nararamdaman kong katapusan ko na. Pinipilit kong sumigaw ng "tulong" ngunit wala ni katiting na tinig ang lumalabas sa bibig ko.

Mabilis ang mga pangyayari. Naramdaman ko na lamang na may isang malaking tao na nakahawak sa kwelyo ng polo ko. Mula sa karimlan na aking kinatitirikan ay unti-unti kong naririnig ang boses ng mga taong sumasaklolo sa akin. Naulinigan ko si Aling Nena na malimit kong bilhan ng banana-que na nagmamando sa mga sumasaklolo. Ang nakakapit naman sa akin ay si Pareng Troy na madalas kong bilhan ng yosi sa tuwing madadaan ako sa himpilan ng dyip. At sa isang gilid ng butas ay ang taong mula sa nakaraang matagal ko ng pinagtataguan.

Nakalabas na ako ng lagusan nang dumating ang mga pulis na tulad ng dati ay huli sa balita. Nais nilang ipatingin ako sa malapit na ospital ngunit tumanggi ako. Nais ko mang ipasuri kung nagkaroon ako ng bali sa anumang parte ng katawan ay pinagwalang-bahala ko muna ito. Mas importante sa akin na makausap ang taong matagal-tagal na ring hinihingi ang pang-unawa ko.

Isang taon. Isang taon na rin ang lumipas simula nang huli kaming nagkita. Hindi ko na rin ikinagulat ang pagtatagpo namin sa lugar na iyon. Maraming kakilala ang nakapagsabi sa akin na lumipat sila ng kaniyang bagong kabiyak sa lugar na iyon. Sa totoo lang, matagal ko ng pinaghandaan ang posibilidad na magkakasalubong kami balang-araw.

Nakakabinging katahimikan. Ilang minuto rin kaming nagtitigan. Sa pamimilit na basagin ang katahimikan ay sabay naming nasambit ang salitang "kamusta". Unti-unti ko ng nararamdaman ang posibleng pagkapilay ng aking kanang braso. Tinanong niya ako kung ayos lang ako. Katulad ng dati ay iniwasan ko sumagot sa mga tanong na lalong ikababahala niya. Nilihis ko ang usapan. Tinanong ko siya kung kamusta ang buhay may pamilya. Kinamusta ko ang kaniyang kabiyak, pati na rin ang bagong silang na sanggol. Naninibago pa daw siya sa mga pagbabago sa buhay niya. Nahihirapan daw siya dahil sa kakulangan ng tulog. Isang buwan pa lang ang bata, ngunit parang isang taon na ito sa anyong inabot ng dating kabiyak. Tumanda ang hitsura niya.

Muling sumakit ang aking kanang braso. Sa puntong iyon, nakita ko sa mga mata niya ang sinseridad ng kaniyang pag-aalala. Ang sinseridad na iyon na nagpapalalala sa akin kung bakit ko siya inibig. Nagprisinta siyang dalhin ako sa malapit na ospital ngunit tumanggi ako. Sa halip na pakinggan ang payo niya ay sinabi kong umuwi na siya.

Bago ko siya pasakayin sa taxi na maghahatid sa kaniya pauwi ay tinitigan ko ang maganda niyang mga mata. Akmang yayakap siya sa akin ngunit mabilis akong umiwas. Kung hinayaan kong mangyari iyon, mawawalan nang saysay ang kapayapaang tinatamasa ko kapalit ng pagsuko ko sa kaniya. Naisin man naming balikan ang nakaraan, patuloy kaming mapapaligiran ng mga naglalakihang pader na patuloy maghihiwalay sa mundo naming ginagalawan.

Dala ng labis na pagkabalisa sa naganap, tuluyan na akong nahulog sa imburnal. Naramdaman ko na lamang ang malakas na pagkislot ng aking mga binti. Nangangalit na ang alarm clock sa pagtunog nito. Alas-sais y' medya na pala.

Panaginip lamang pala.

At, nangangawit ang kanang braso ko.

Exodus: Paternity

2011-02-06T19:01:00.002+05:00

Memories of indiscretions are needed to be buried as we leave the past. But why will I forget if the result of an indiscretion gives me constant joy and yearns to let me experience humanity?

I rarely talk about my fatherhood. I don't despise it either. Frankly, I am not a good one. Giving up fatherhood is a selfish attack to an innocent toddler who longs for a father. Giving it up is a shameful regret and more than anything, atrocious.

Four years ago when I submitted myself to countless evil acts. Juvenile grudges were held which made me experience the joys of booze, drugs and sex. Wandering through rebellion came to a high when I met Dina, a schoolmate. Known for her reputation of being liberated, I engaged myself with her to gain more acceptance from the crowd I followed. Our playful intimacies brought us into countless copulations. Her steady boyfriend Mark, openly accepted our hallucinations. His devotion to Dina remains unquestionable.

Later on, the guilt has intensified. Sudden disappeance was done to ensure a peaceful movement. It took me four months to gather back my senses and fell for someone seriously. The ascension to normalcy was never easy. The itch which seeks to be noticed has been ignored a number of times. Since the succeeding events of rebellion, I have never been drunk again all my life. I just sought for tranquility and refuge, but I also found love.

But fate has its own way to deliver the missing pages of an unfinished business. Seven months of hiding, I accidentally bumped into Dina and discovered that she was seven months into pregnancy. With me having a tendency of being goofy, I even joked around asking her who is the father.

"Ikaw" was the only word that came out of her mouth. I thought it was a joke.

By the time her eyes are erupting tears, I realized that her response was not a joke. Her howls are painful for me to endure. I left the place and sought guidance from the heavens. I just turned 19 then, and I was not ready to be a father. I sobbed to my Dad for an advice. All I got was a tap on the back and a "good job" sarcasm.

Both of our families convened to discuss a possible marriage. Wedding was planned as soon as we are ready. But tensions erupted when we couldn't meet halfway. Negotiations were called off and the wedding never materialized. My mind was never into the marriage. I saw someone hurting in the middle of the tension - Mark, who I knew loves Dina so much. Dina told me how Mark kept her sane and guarded during the first months of her pregnancy. We saw him as the compromise candidate for the fatherhood. The agreement that we arrived on surprised the elders. We called off the negotiations by promising financial support will be given to the unborn who will later be named Trey.

Several amendments were made for the sake of a peaceful relationship. Visitation rights became more lenient. Civil acts may be at first manifested, but my relationship with the couple has developed as we treated each other as close friends, one we never did before. Dina recently bore a beautiful daughter. The invitation to be the ninong was gladly accepted. But the good relationship doesn't change the reality that I could never be there on times when Trey creates those little milestone as he advances into his childhood. The worry that he will be confused with two people being called daddy makes me think that he might suffer futher emotional difficulties while growing up.

But by the moment Trey learns all these, a painful revenge or a lifetime abhorrence to me could be waiting to happen. The love I show him might not compensate my past failures as a father.

Between all the stories my comrades share with me about their kids and my intentions of not marrying, is the fear to lose the only one whom I can depend on when age begins to take a toll on me.

*All names were fictional to protect the anonymity of the characters involved.
*I was having second thoughts of including a photo of Trey, but decided not to.

Timeline (Last Part)

2011-01-31T14:28:00.005+05:00

Timeline (First Part)

Vivid dreams about a horrible past rudely awakened me in the middle of my power nap. Disturbed, I pondered on how my friends are getting worried on my increasing habit of sleeping in public transportation. I told them how many times I went beyond my destinations due to over-sleeping. They are more concerned with my safety. Calls to seek for a medical intervention has always been ignored.

On the way to Quezon City Hall, I found myself in the middle of an argument between the old lady sitting beside me and the bus conductor. The lola beside me was disputing the change she received, repeatedly telling the conductor that she is a senior citizen and therefore should be charged as one. The conductor who appeared to be annoyed told lola that she didn't say that she was a senior citizen.

"Paulit ulit ko ng sinasabi sa iyo iho na senior ako. Kulang 'tong sukli mo." The lola, in her fragile state told the conductor. With me being the sole witness to the transaction, I can honestly say that lola muttered this a few times before handing her coins to the conductor.

"Eh lola, sana ho nilalakasan ninyo yung boses ninyo para hindi ho tayo nagtatalo. Hindi naman ho kayo pipi, matanda lang." The conductor inappropriately retaliated to the lola. It was more than enough. The lola, humiliated with the mockery was preparing for a counter attack when she was suddenly interrupted by my movements.

Casting my eyes to the conductor, I said, "Manong, hindi naman mahirap mag-sorry. Kaya kayo pinaparusahan ng gobyerno eh." I could have launched a tirade using my infamous acerbic tongue by bombing him with expletives but lately, I realized that diplomacy through sarcasm works for me better.

The mass of humanity both sitting and standing seem to agree with me. The conductor, embarassed, slowly drifted away to the back to continue collecting payment from the other passengers.

I arrived at Quezon City Hall at 11:40.

Long lines of cedula applicants began teeming up soon as my feet landed there. Majority in the lines were new hires and students whose admission to their jobs and schools are partly dependent on the cedula. I was there to complete my requirements for a loan application. While waiting on the line, I noticed that the security officials are dismantling the long lines, asking them to go back since they are running out of cedula receipts. Altercation later ensued between the security officials and some applicants, with some of them pushing away people to distract them from their spots and leave. I've been pushed a lot of times by the ones behind me, but I chose to stay firmly on the line. With unpleasant incidents I experienced a few hours ago, I remained relaxed until the whole ordeal defused. Being speculative, I concluded that lunch break was the reason why they shove the applicants away.

After being stressed with the recent incident, I found myself puffing the remaining stubs of my cigarette. While smoking, I contemplated on the recent events and how it can affect the entire day.

"This could be a bad day after all!" I muttered to myself and thought of calling it a day.

Until I received a text from the friend.

"Nasaan ka na? Guess what? I passed the initial application for a programmer post!" She always told me that she never wanted the position. Her fear of the HTML and SQL language hindered her to seek opportunities on top IT firms. Known for being contented to land a career in data mining and technical writing, I considered this a big news.

After depositing the cash I have left and getting an approval for a checking account to be released next month by the bank, I sought a taxi to bring me to Gateway to meet the friend.

While eating, she told me how the application process went, with the final interview set a few days after. The friend told me that she would like to visit her boyfriend who works at Dimasalang. She innocently said that she would like to try the LRT for the first time. Hesitant to do so, we later found ourselves on the Cubao station waiting for the next train which will bring us to Recto.

I sought instructions from the friend's boyfriend by sending some messages. With the instructions unclear, I tried to seek the directions from the jeepney signs, first instruction said ride a Blumentritt trip. We did so, only to find out that we should have taken the other Blumentritt route located near the Quezon Blvd underpass. We took the long route via Blumentritt - Retiro - Dimasalang. Luckily, we found ourselves some helpful jeepney drivers to help us with our ignorance of the direction.

The sunset, along with the cold spell made us decide to call it a day. Hours of being on the road with some troublesome ordeals, all I sought was a warm solace from my bed and pillow waiting at home.

I arrived home at 6:30 in the evening. The first thing I looked for upon arrival was the thermometer I kept inside the medical box. It says 38 degrees centigrate.

Sick call was made to the boss. Assurance of a better production was made after our worries that we could not make it on the deadline.

Ten in the evening. The pang of loneliness worsen the frail state, dancing along with the fever and cold spell. It later brought me into a long sleep, while wishing that someone was there to ebb my uncertainties and console my weak state.

Timeline (First Part)

2011-01-29T13:15:00.003+05:00

Monday. First order of business was to pick up a friend from Cubao. Along with her are hopes of landing a career in the Metro. Being in a province with small opportunities for IT graduates, hopes to chart a career as a data analyst or technical writer were in place. Few months back, she tried the BPO industry but a hit and run incident cut short her stint in the call center industry.

Call time was 8:30 in the morning. Armed with only 3 hours of sleep, I stormed Cubao and brushed off the intuition that my blood pressure is shooting up. It was a precarious state that needs some fixing probably later on, I thought. Calcibloc may deal with it later since the order of business for the whole day was already in place.

The travel from Fairview to Cubao was more than eventful. Being a night owl and mid-shift traveller, heavy traffic on a Monday morning was achingly anticipated so I left as early as 7am. The slumber for half an hour was interrupted by some endless honkings of vehicles in the Manggahan area. Moving my head outside the window of the bus, I was surprised to see a multiple vehicle collision that could possibly ruin my Monday morning.

"Manong, wala pa bang rescue na tinawag?" I asked the manong driver who was two seats away from me.

"Naku sir, sa sobrang traffic, mukhang malabong dumating kaagad ang ambulansiya. Ni wala nga hong pulis na dumadating pa eh." The driver replied, who apparently is more annoyed with our predicament. Looking at the back seats, it seems that the driver is worried with passengers' scarcity. Behind us were two old couples, a kolehiyala who's busy retouching her face and the bus conductor.

It took us 30 minutes to get out of the accident zone. The hapless victim who was seriously injured on his head was able to get out of the dismantled Hyundai Accent after paramedical reinforcement came. MMDA took charge of the killer road by rerouting vehicles to make the traffic flow moderate at least.

Meanwhile, queries about my whereabouts have started coming in. The incessant vibrations from my cellphone almost pestered me when I realized that I am more than late for my morning appointment.

I landed at Cubao by 9:30 am.

While on the way to Shaw Blvd for the friend's interview, I gave her some pointers that can possibly earn her some good score during the interview. Truth be told, I was actually not sure if the pointers I gave her could work since my last job interview was more than three years ago. After explaining to her my schedule for the whole day, I could sense some fears thwarting due to her unfamiliarity with the metro. I promised to fetch her at Shangri-la Plaza. Strong assurance that she will not lose sight of the direction and her job application will be fine also came before we parted ways.

Being one hour behind, the least priorities under the schedule should go. Few of those will be the digicam that needs some fixing after acting up madly the day before.

Few minutes after reframing my itinerary, I took a bus that will take me to Quezon City Hall for a cedula application.

To be continued...