Kisame

Dear Kisame,

Kamusta ka? Malapit ko na namang makabisa ang kinaroroonan ng lahat ng agiw mo. Bukod sa ilang dagdag na gabok, nananatili kang kimi. Tititigan na naman kita ng matagal ngayong gabi. Ikaw na tanging saksi sa lahat ng mga ngiti, kilig, galit, hinagpis at hikbing kubli sa lahat. Tititigan ko na naman ang maraming pulgadang layo mo sa akin habang ika'y tahimik na nakikinig sa bawat pagpatak ng luha. Susubukan ko muling abutin ang iyong kinaroroonan, gaya ng pilit na pag-abot ng aking isip sa mga sagot sa katanungan. Pilit kong uunawain ang mga naganap ngunit muling mabibigo. Bagkus, manatili akong blanko, gaya ng iyong reaksyon.

Days as such

There are happy days
Those that make you float in the sky
But there are sad days
Days that make you curl up and cry

During those days it's important to cope
To live one day at a time
To fight one battle at a time
To harness more faith
To build more strength of heart

During the dark and dreary days it's important to pray
For a wise and discerning heart
For clarity behind two hazy eyes
For the will to surrender
For peace that we can't understand

During those days you cry, you bleed, you mumble
But during those days you put off giving up
You grip onto His promises until the bleeding stops
You raise your arms until the rivers of tears dry up
And you rest soundly in His hand



Every day is a blessing

A Masterpiece

My dear, never ever doubt yourself. Your worth is not commensurate to how others think of you, or how you think they think. What they think of you doesn’t matter. You just need to matter to a few people. People who really matter. You are smart, beautiful and classy. You are way better than how you see  yourself sometimes.  You are your life's main character and you own your stage. You are God’s masterpiece, crafted polished within a lifetime. You are a blessing.

Tropa. Friendzone. Basted

The floor opened and gobbled me whole at 6:00 AM in the morning. Your text message was way better than espresso, jolting me out of sleep. Funny thing, I woke up to your text message knowing that I did not sleep at all.

"Let's just be friends, and nothing more. Tropa tayo diba?"

Seriously? That freaking line. I thought I heard that in a chick flick that I suffered watching with you. Seriously. At 6 o'clock in the morning your words swallowed me whole.

I lovingly kept all your text messages. Three years' worth of seemingly important messages. "Hi. Musta? I miss you too. See you later. Smiley. Hehe. Go to the balcony, the moon is lovely. U umlaut." For me, those were sweet nothings. Apparently for you, it was just nothing.

I searched for your car yesterday. Blood. Panic. Sweat. Cramps. I stupidly searched for your car in three levels of car park. How can I miss logic that day. I failed to note that this was not a scene in a badly written movie. I should have just asked the guard where your car was. I found your car just near the door after losing considerable amount of sweat. My heart was racing as I placed a bouquet of roses that I carefully picked up earlier that day. I spent hours composing my note but ended up writing an incredible piece of crap.

Seeing you was the event to look forward to everyday. Blame proximity and propinquity but I started to cross out some specs in my archetype. I swam in that feeling of lightness whenever you are around. When I stopped asking myself "why?", that's when I knew all reason has fallen. I didn't mind disgusting cheesiness. I didn't mind doing fooling things. All foolishness was clad with a perfect feeling of lightness.

You texted me yesterday. "The flowers came from you, right?" I froze. I failed to reply. I wanted to talk to you personally. I wanted to let you know how miserable I was. I barely slept. I counted the minutes to the next day. I felt a sense of numbness after dropping the bomb. I assumed you barely slept too, judging from your 6:00 AM text message.

I am confused as to how I will place the activities that transpired in the last three years. We worked together. We ran together. Endured traffic together. Ate breakfast, lunch, or dinner together. We had coffee together. We laughed together.
Together. Was there really such a word? Was I just imprisoned in an illusion that we could be something more? I invested too much feeling in "together." Who was I kidding? Together, my face.

I saw you the next day wearing that new awkward feeling. Your mere presence in the office gives me claustrophobia. The office suddenly became too small for you and my overwhelming emotion. Seeing you gives me a lethargic feeling. Being with you in the same hallway just meant raising both eyebrows or nodding and nothing more. Being with you in the same hallway makes me want to barf with pain. Seeing your eyes is a strong reminder of that 6:00 AM text message on that fateful day.

"Let's just be friends, and nothing more. Tropa tayo diba?" And all hell broke loose.

***
Written for a friend who is nursing a broken heart

-- 30 --

Madalas naman ang pagwawakas
Isang realidad sa pang-araw araw na buhay
Huling episode ng paboritong telenovela
Huling hininga ng paboritong artista
Pagtatapos ng isang gawain o relasyon, trabaho o bakasyon
Pagtatapos ng araw sa bawat takipsilim
Pagtatapos ng buwan o pagsasara ng taon

Madalas naman ang pagwawakas
Ngunit bakit laging kaakibat ang mabigat na pakiramdam

Hindi ko alam kung magpapadespedida ba ko o hahayaan ko na lang
Hindi ko alam kung pipiliin ang tahimik na pagiimpit ng pinto o ang madramang pagyayakapan bago lumisan
Nahihirapan akong maniwala sa kasabihang pag may nagsarang pinto, may nagbubukas ng bintana
Nahihirapan akong sumugal sa madilim na crossfade ng scene 1 and 2
Nalilito ako habang naglalakbay sa proseso na inuutas ni Kubler-Ross
Nahihirapan akong lunukin ang mapait na wakas

The end. Fin. 30. That's all folks.
Madalas naman ang pagwawakas
Ngunit bakit kada mangyayari iyon lagi nalang akong nasusuka.

On Altruism

I have always believed that my grandfather was a man of wisdom. “Importante na marunong kang tumulong at makiramay,” he once told my mother. These words were passed on by my grandfather to my mother. Growing up, my parents exposed us to helping relatives, neighbors and friends. “Sometimes, you have to give until it hurts,” I heard my mother say. She would spend an hour or two lecturing about altruism and selflessness. When my father got sick, we got into an emotional and financial mire. Faith and the selflessness of family, friends, and colleagues helped us get out of the mire. Some gave until it hurt them and I will forever be grateful.


I saw a picture of altruism in our neighbors Manang Corsia and Mang Lupo when I was young. Until now, I could vividly picture Manang Corsia delivering a bowl of pink sopas and a bottle of carabao’s milk in the morning . They would help us during trying times, (typhoons, earthquakes, sickness, accidents, etc.) without expecting anything in return. Altruism is gaudily painted in their persona.

The spirit of altruism is vibrant in Filipino homes or communities. Service, empathy and selflessness are commonplace in Filipino families and communities especially during times of crisis. Given the opportunity and capability, Filipinos will choose to help in a cause that they believe in. These values as passed on from one generation to another.

According to F. Landa Jocano in his book Work Values of Successful Filipinos, one of the core traits or distinguishing qualities of successful Filipinos include “Marunong Makiramay” and “Matulungin.” He said that we have the ability to have a deep concern over people in times of crises. We extend help either emotionally or materially. He furthered that the respondents to his study agreed that “people who readily give assistance are also easily assisted by other in time of need.”

It has been said that much is required to those who were given much. Being blessed at this difficult time, it is but fitting to help others in need. We are too blessed not to help. We are too blessed not to Pay it Forward.

***
Published in the Q2 2010 issue of Press Time, ST Calamba's newsletter

Untitled

She would look away and I would look at her.


She would talk incessantly about how things were, her petty concerns, her mundane thoughts. Her laughter would ring inside the coffee shop. I would chastise her with crossed eyebrows. As always, she would ignore me and start ripping me with her sneering laugh. She would breathe life into uneventful things. She would fire up any boring topic. She would never take me seriously. Neither would l, seemingly. I would look at her lovingly when she turns to talk to her friends. I would analyze every strand of her hair, every squint of her eyes, every gesture, hoping she wouldn’t notice me admiring both her perfection and imperfection.

She would share her woes, her angst. I would either starve or feed her angst. I would listen to her sadness. Hoping that I, through listening, would alleviate her misery. I could only share my shoulder. I could only share an extra unused handkerchief, which I would carefully tuck inside my pocket every day, hoping its size could contain the outpour of emotions being blown to it. I would joke around, making a fool of myself, just so I can see the smile behind the tears. I would give anything to see her smile. She will tell me about her admirers and who she likes. I would envy them in secret. I would feel jealous. I would feel her pain. She would not feel mine.

We would try out every place where there is food, from polluted streets to posh overrated restaurants. We would pretend to be food critiques and make up stories. I would sip expensive coffee with her, even if it would mean having to endure eating pancit canton for days, until my urine smells like coffee, until I palpitate during sleepless nights. I would save up for movies, Googling the synopsis so I won’t appear idiotic. She would fall in love with the movie star. I would fall in love with her.

She would tell me more about her life. I would compare notes about mine. She would widen the abyss that separates me from loving her. She would make me realize that I can only love her in silence. I would make that painful resolution that I cannot step up for her. I am too afraid of the consequences and rejection. I will regret not having enough courage to tell her she is the world to me. I can only watch her from afar.

Yes, I am secretly in love with her.

***
Written for a friend who loves in secret

Resibo

Life is but a fleeting dream
A time-bounded sojourn
A short travel in an eternal continuum
We are but a speck in the universe
A feeble existence
A mere statistic
Nothing spectacular

(for a friend)

On Being Decisive

I have done a lot of things that I am not particularly proud of. I went around in circles because I took a lot of wrong turns. More often than not, I feel tired, depressed and alone. More often than not, I feel I have been taken advantage of. I do a lot of things which do not excite me. I choose things that I know would not make me happy. I end up cleaning up other people’s acts. I was supposed to lead but would end up doing everything, just to keep up with commitments. I feel bullied and obliged. I let other people decide for me. I let people influence how I live. I am too afraid to hurt other people. I am too afraid to say no. I can’t decide on my own and end up wavering on the very few decisions that I have made for myself. My happiness is dependent on other people’s happiness. I am particularly happy when things are without aversion. I am high on self restraint. I am careful about how other people see me and react to my decisions. I have high regard to those in authority. I am careful as to how my decision impacts other people’s equilibrium. I have traces of courage but I can’t seem to sustain it.

Now I am tired. I am very tired. I’m starting to care less. I am starting to be lazy. I have yet to see the day when I could muster enough courage to stand on my own and decide on my own. I have yet to see the day when I can boldly say that I own all my decisions. I have yet to be in that space where I am happy, peaceful and excited. I have yet to see the day that I can do what I want and not just because I am obliged. I have a long way to go. I hope someday I would wake up with enough courage to choose to be happy. I hope someday I would make that choice and stick with it.