Friday, August 29, 2008
so im on my 2nd beer, whining over my selfish troubles, and here comes joey: this incredible 12-year-old wise-ass hu sells peanuts at el ams and suddenly, for a few minutes, i am able to appreciate how wonderful my life is.
like once told a friend, i am totally smitten with the kid because he's one of the very few people whose always genuinely happy to see me... there's nothing like seeing him flash his toothy grin every time we each other at memento or el ams or sted's. he helps me stop being self-absorbed for a while and just feel content with chatting with him about his day and whatnot.
and man is the guy deep. not something ud expect from a fifth-grader hu looks about 8 (the result of a life of poverty and years of dprivation). he'd be telling me stuff id never expect from some1 so young... but then again, he's seen a lot more of life than i have so, in some ways, the kid is more mature than me.
i wish someday i cud do something for him coz he has no idea of how much he's done for me...
(October 4, 2005)
Saturday, August 23, 2008
that no one else but ourselves can make us happy. that if we can't with be happy ourselves, why do we think we can be happy with other people?
what i find problematic with this is the assumption that people are actually capable of being happy alone. i cannot fathom that. my greatest fear is to be alone. and the idea of supposedly finding happiness in that does not remotely make sense to me.
yet, is that the point in life? to realize in the end that we came in alone therefore we leave alone and to think otherwise is some fantasy we created to numb the harsh lonely truth?
in a busy street, i look around into those streams of nameless faceless and think that i see the same eyes. those secretly terrified eyes that lurk behind the nonchalance, the pretense of not caring.
those that endlessly carry the fear that i AM alone. that the world is not my company but merely a sea of observers to my grief borne of my endless search for someone who's never going to come.
i used to think i was a hopeless romantic. and that my constant fantasies of meeting that one true love are the manifestations of being one. now i think they are simply the delusions of a person terrified of facing up to the truth that there is no one i am supposed to be waiting for.
i look around and i see people who have settled for whatever company the circumstances of their lives have granted them just to keep from sleeping in cold beds at night. they put with the shit, the countless idiosyncracies, the lack of actual warmth, the endless little gory details of forced cohabitation so they won't be alone. and those who chose to play solitaire sleep with their misery looking out to the world with my eyes only with more grief.
it scares the shit out of me to see myself in them.
i didn't know when i started to be so bleak. maybe the world had always been this bleak and i had just caught up. maybe im just an overly-pessimistic sick little kid.
maybe we ARE just pieces of meat in various stages of decay and my fears are all warpedly founded. or maybe im just paranoid.
maybe i should just go to sleep. i don't wanna prove myself right and find myslef living the nightmare i just wrote down. there's a sane part of me that says i should know better than to think that this all life has to offer.
at least i think that's the sane part of me.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
2. it's a Samsung
3. it's the same with Serena's in Gossip Girl!
(but then that's why i bought it. hehe)
4. figured you guys might not be able to actually
see it seeing as how my phones usually have a
surprisingly high mortality rate.
5. ... it's kewl.
and no, i am not naming it.
love you eas!
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
of you have known me. but it's not because i feel inclined to be
detached from this city per se. it's more like that detachment
being a mere consequence of my parents being here, and the
implication of which is that having the same zip code with my
parents translates to a complete lack of freedom for me.
so yes, i love Dumaguete, but this does not mean i do NOT love Iligan. Because i do. i love dumaguete because i fancy that's where i found myself, but iligan is my hometown -it is a huge part of who
i am. so if no one can take me away
from dumaguete, no one can take
iligan out of me.
i used to be supremely irked when people
from luzon and visayas (but mostly
from luzon) ask questions like:
"So, how does it feel to grow up in conflict?"
- Conflict... uh... what conflict?
"O talaga, you're from Mindanao?! Pano ka napunta dito?"
- Well, una sumakay kami ng bangka, after 5 days, nasira yung
bangka so lumangoy kami... tas nung nakakita kami ng lupa,
nag-lakad kami ng nag-lakad hanggang makarating kami
"Pano ka natuto mag-Tagalog?"
- Ummm... actually, kasi yung yaya ko dati Tagalog.
Ayun, tinuruan nya ko.
I used to think they were all morons and then, i'd think about it
a little more and realize that i can't really blame them because the
only times Mindanao ever comes out on TV is when there's "conflict"
(damn. i hate that word, makes all this senseless violence sound so...
sanitized) so it's almost understandable how people seem
to have absolutely no idea what's going on in Mindanao...
Then this MOA brouhaha happens.
Yet again the entire country has it eyes on Mindanao, and yet again,
we are nothing more than a war-torn god-forsaken area somewhere
in the bottom of this country ruined by Gloria.
but i am not going to talk about the war going on here. everyone else
has got more than enough to say about that. this, i will say though,
this is not a war between the Muslims and the Christians. Neither
is it a war between the Military and the MILF. This war is about
people's ironically conflicting ideas on what "peace"is and how to
achieve it, and the differences beingfueled and the implications
exacerbated by a president who pretends to care about having
'peace' but is really only bent on forwarding her own evil agenda.
(but if you must know, that evil president of ours has put
everyone between a rock and a hard place. it's a 'damn if we do,
damn if we don't' scenario here, and were hard-pressed to come
up with anyviable resolution to this stupid, useless and senseless war.)
but like i said, i will NOT be talking about the war. because you know
what, Mindanao is NOT a war-torn, conflict-driven, god-forsaken little
green-shaded area in the Philippine map. Nor is Iligan just the next
MILF target and nothing more. i am completely frustrated at the
thought that the only thing the rest of the country will ever know
about my hometown is how it's going to look like after the MILF
leaves, and the Military finishes with their clearing operations.
that IS not what my hometown is all about. so in this post, i will give real answers to those 'stupid' questions i've been asked repeatedly:
Where is Iligan?
Right next to Cagayan de Oro
Oh yeah, Cagayan... umm.. valley?
Nope. Here's a friggin' map.
Do you have electricity there? (Someone
really did ask me this question, extremely ridiculous and way moronic as it sounds)
- Uhmmm... I'm not quite sure how
to put this... YES WE DO! Iligan happens
to be where Maria Cristina Falls is, which happens to provide hydroelectric energy to the whole of Mindanao.
So do you have monkeys there, like on the streets and stuff?
(My friend Mia was asked this, and this was her brilliant reply)
- It depends on how much Tanduay you've drunk.
Apart from the stupid stuff which i can't help but be sarcastic about,
THIS is what Iligan is about:
1. We are the city of waterfalls. We have like a gazillion waterfalls
(okay, more like 2o) and all of them are breathtaking.
2. We Iliganons are a proud lot, and are quick to defend our family
name and what we perceive is rightfully ours. I admit this trait
might not be mutually exclusive with all other Filipinos, but only
a true Iliganon can say 'lat ni nanay' when in defense of one's honor
and family name in the proper tone and with the correct measure
3. We are composed of Christians, Muslims, and Higa-onons and we
have been peacefully co-existing until this MOA thing came along.
Now we're all suddenly aware of our differences.
And since most of what you see and will be seeing about Iligan on TV
will be the nasty, ugly scenes, let me show Iligan in its full glory:
You see, when they said Mindanao is the land of promise, they were
not just being overly optimistic. We ARE the land of promise. If only
this government will give us the chance to fulfill it.
Monday, August 18, 2008
whatever it is, we never really need an excuse to talk about our city. apparently, as of late, it doesn't take much to induce people into talking mental walks down
so because i have been doing those walks myself more frequently nowadays,
i thought to come up with a list of what makes dumaguete, OUR dumaguete.
some ideas taken from jello and aiken's posts, of course.
to a bum, a wednesday is never just a wednesday. it's the day the defines the week. even the days that completes the week. for the bums, everything begins with a wednesday and ends with a wednesday. and of course, accordingly, many of our highlights have happened on a wednesday... (i can practically hear your thoughts whir for like 100km/second..hehe)and thus a post-break-up poem i wrote for a guy (who introduced this wednesday ritual to me) goes, 'you took all my wednesdays with you..." (only i can by cryptic and corny at the same time, haha).
this in turn is the place that defined us as a group. apart from all the other places, wherein we've practically branded our presence on, hayahay was where we let go of inhibitions. where, according to jello, enchi seemed like the only reason to dance in the world. i swear, there is practically absolutely nothing else that feels like what it feels when you're on the dance floor, swaying to reggae, red horse on one hand, marlboro on the other, with the sweet smell of the tangy sea mixed with the aroma of chez andre's mind-blowing pizza around you. man, i feel like i can practically smell hayahay...
i agree with jello. it's all about ricardo. there in no el amigo for the bums without rick. we love him because he indulges all our weird eccentricities or eccentric weirdness (either way, we're weird and eccentric). he plays our favorite music even if it might potentially aggravate other customers. he gives us ice and water and tissue even if we don't ask for anything else other than ice, water or tissue. (haha) and when we get too drunk to remember to pay, he simply reminds us the next day.
damn, i miss ricardo... i miss el amigo! (oooh, it rhymes!)
when i say we were a friggin' institution when it comes to sted's loyalty, i mean that in a literal sense. oh, the crazy shit that comes with the words 'sted's core'. sexy dancing? oh i know. i shall speak no more...
(why do i keep rhyming?!)
the weekly sillimanian
we weren't just about the bumming around, we were mainly about our orgs too. but then again, the weekly isn't just an org. it was waaaay more than a paper. the weekly sillimanian wasn't even just a demanding, time-consuming, sometimes overwhelming extracurricular... it was a whole damn lifestyle. we worked, slept and ate at that office. and did a lot of other stuff as well. tee-hee.
oh... a whole post can never give justice to what weekly was, so i'll stop trying. suffice to say that bums have a pandora's box of memories in their heads labeled, 'the weekly sillimanian.' 'nuf said.
eatery by the tree
it was mainly aiken's discovery which of course was eventually adopted by everyone else. nanay (as in louella's mom) and her to-die-for porkchops with ginamus and spicy kinilaw was my definition of a 'good meal' then. (well, maybe it still is). but we love nanay not just because of the food, but the fact that you get suffused with warmth and parental love when you get within a meter radius of her. she was always "oh, i'm so proud of all you," and "you guys are sooo great". she was the best proxy mom i had in dumaguete.
at this point, i feel like fighting tears. seriously, this is starting to get painful. but then again, it might result to a brilliant bums reunion as well, so it'll be worth it. hehe. in my mind i can still see us gathered around memento's wooden tables, seated on its wrought-iron chairs, filling the air in between us with marlboro exhaust and brilliant bum chatter.
and then there's joey, and payag, and countrygents (waah! countrygents!) and berto, and wanbol and escaño, even AM-PM, oh the list could go on and on....
you guys have no idea how painful it was to walk around dumaguete alone. everyone's right, dumaguete isn't dumaguete without the brilliant bums.
and seeing all those changes... damn, it's like we never were, i tell you. it's heart-breaking... :(
that portal building monstrosity, the fact that i actually don't know the people who now go to hayahay, the fact that el ams looks different now, or worst the fact that when i say, 'kita tag steds', i have to clarify WHICH steds... can you imagine?
that sigh carried a world of meaning and the fact that only bums can comprehend the extent of its significance leaves me sadder and happier at the same time.
ok. sakto na! OA na ang show. basta, gimingaw ko ninyomg mga pisteha mo!:(
August 19, 2008 12:11 AM
i think that as i walk in school everyone
steals glances, then exchange murmurs on
whatever they needed to comment about me.
i think that everytime i'm in a jeepney, everybody tries hard not to stare but i catch them at times and its interesting how they get unnerved by this.
i think that when pieces of conversations reach my ears as i sit quietly somewhere, enjoying a stick or two, it always involves a mention of me.
somewhere inside this narcissistic shell of self-absorption is the capacity to realize this might all just be an illusion.
i think that i think that i am aware that all this is a rather severe and even somewhat demented illusion...
i continue to feed it anyway.
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
but there's one thing i haven't been: a big sister.
when i got home tonight and took out something in my bag, i caused my pack of ciggies to accidentally fall out and i looked up to see the utter disappointment in my sister's face and as always when i get this look, i felt 2-inches tall.
see, i had promised my family i'd quit after my operation and i sincerely tried. but obviously, miserably failed as well.
no news there. i am the worst model of behavior there is. and as if constantly struggling to obey my parents is not hard enough, all my mistakes also resonate to my sisters. i've got three people looking up to me on what to do and what not to. in every thing i do, it's always at the back of my mind to worry if they might do it too: my dysfunctions are almost theirs to inherit, which is why i have to be in a different zip code.
well, in my own warped way, i AM serving as an example, i am showing them what NOT to do.
so far, it's working. my sisters are waaaaaaaaaaaay more mature, more responsible and on whole, less dysfunctional than me, if at all. and no one is prouder of that than i am. even if, i am completely aware that i have nothing to do with this.
or i might. either way, i cannot take credit.
and i have accepted this.
but on some days, i wish i could be a big sister to them, to have more than just the age gap as a reason for them calling me 'ate'.
yet as always, when the choice is between who i am and who i should be (the two never being one and the same), i am loath to pick the latter.
some big sister i am.