I Am Parteeboi

A Retouch, Polishing Anger

2011-09-24T12:03:00.000-07:00

"Sana mi magsama ulit tayo no? Alam ko kung magkakasma tayo babawi ako sayo, ipaparamdam ko n yung mga bagay bagay n hndi ko napramdam sayo... kung mabbgyan lng ako ng pagkakataon mi il make thngs right this time..."

What's up? Still consumed by your illusion that I have the smallest brain to say "hello" to your "hi"? Your "hello" is a little too soon. It is infuriating, too proud, too insensitive, SICK, in fact. You feel alone? I don't know how you are playing this game anymore. You must know that your misfortunes are food to my soul. But then I can't show you my anger and disgust!!! Well, I'm a work in progress. Soon, I will be your ultimate picture of wrath and loathing.

I hate to reminisce that I was one of your five boyfriends who you juggled for different reasons--money, company, crying shoulders and money... and money. It was one of my many sacrifices but, I guess you will never understand that. You have beaten me up. You have, countless of times, disrespected me. You cursed at me. You hated me for trivial things you thought epic--I came home late, I spilled Sprite on the back seat, I frowned because I was tired... I did not deserve that night. Your punches... and kicks... and swearing... and slaps... and that cold blade of a knife on my neck... They are engraved in my soul, so deep no bark can erase.

Don't come back, Ghost. Not now and not ever.

So let me tell you this, MY HATE FOR YOU HAS FILLED ALL THE VOID THAT WAS CREATED BY YOUR LOVE. BYE!

Hey Ghost

2010-08-11T01:08:00.000-07:00

"Sana mi magsama ulit tayo no? Alam ko kung magkakasma tayo babawi ako sayo, ipaparamdam ko n yung mga bagay bagay n hndi ko napramdam sayo... kung mabbgyan lng ako ng pagkakataon mi il make thngs right this time..."

What's up? Still not sick and tired of the bad relationship that we had? Why say "hello" this soon? Now all of the sudden you feel alone? The last time I checked, we were five blokes when we started. I sacrificed for one good year, and I was beaten up, and cursed at, and punished for trivial things you thought epic -- I went home late. I spilled Sprite on the back seat. I frowned because I was tired. And countless more instances. I cry everytime I picture myself helplessly receving those angry fists that night.

I didn't think that this day could ever come. I can close your messages instantly and never think about them again. I guess moving on is real all along. You move on now Ghost. Have a life. Be happy now that I am gone.

I never have told you this, and let me tell you now... I HATE YOU SO MUCH!

Love The Way You Lie (Feat. Rihanna)
Recovery
Eminem

Sweet Messaging Service

2010-08-03T02:23:00.001-07:00

12:30 pm. In the middle of my job application. I finally decided to text you. I was waiting for your text the whole morning.

Paul: Hey Hon.

Sent. 2 messages received when I exited from my message editor.

1st Message
Athony: How’s my Honey?

2nd Message
Anthony: Hon. I just sent you a message. Hehehe.
Paul: How sweet. We were thinking of each other at the same time. Did you eat yet?
Anthony: Not yet Hon. I'm getting somebody to cook lunch.
Paul: What's for lunch?
Anthony: Beef loaf.
Paul: Oh no! Next time I'll cook for you. I will make sure that you will eat only delicious meal all the time.

Anthony: Like gourmet kisses, sizzling hugs... and what else?

I decided to focus on my grammar test. I might run out of time. So I placed my phone on the side.

Inside the cab on my way home I checked my messages. One of them was yours. I smiled and replied.

Paul: and bottomless care.

Honey, Honey
Mamma Mia! The Movie Soundtrack
Amanda Seyfried, Ashley Lilley, Rachel McDowell

Definitely

2010-07-29T21:57:00.000-07:00

After a good three months of intermittent SMS correspondence.

We were inside your car, driving around town. We were trying a conversation. It was neither spontaneous, nor I would say smooth. A couple sticks of Marlboro. Smoke outside the window. Asking any questions that were readily available in our heads. Filling the gaps of awkward silence. So you are studying Law, you’re 25, I’m 26. The last relationship that you had was a year ago, mine, just recently, March?

“So this is me.” I looked at the lit window on the second floor which was my room’s. So you modestly peeked.

“Thank you.” I yanked the latch to open the door. I noticed your right hand on the shifter. Then it grew slowly into your arm, then your white shirt, then your face. I smiled. No words came into my head. Then in the dim light, I wasn’t sure if you tried to close your eyes. Then I thought they were. Inside of me, I thought I can’t just end this night with that crappy conversation that we had. But with only so much time that we had left, I thought I might just step out of the car and just forget about you tonight and just remember you when we meet again.

You never said anything too. You were just giving me your smile, showing your perfect teeth. Very courteous, just appropriate. Then one more look, something changed in your face. Right your eyes were half closed and your lips were puckered. There was a little surprise, an exciting one. It never took me any second to guess what was going on. “Oh!” I said. Damn I should have worn my little black dress and my Manolos. Yes you were asking for a kiss. I closed my eyes too. I trusted the darkness to lead my lips to meet yours. And they did. That soft kiss. It was short but definitely sweet.

I tried to be casual. I said, “I’ll see you next time.” Your left hand on the steering wheel, your right hand on the shifter, you are looking straight at me, that was my last picture of you, then you said, “Definitely.”

Crush
Glee: The Music, Volume 2
Leah Michelle, Glee Cast

Hey Ex-Lover

2010-07-26T01:30:00.000-07:00

“Mi wag mo muna ako itxt kasi parang plagi nlang ganto ang txt natin eh... Dba? Nkkpgod na, nakakasawa... Itxt mo nlang ako kung nasa airport kana at magpapasundo k sakin dala ang mga gamit mo... Pra maayos ko ang higaan at bahay s pagdating mo... Ksi nakakpgod n ang puro salita... Dba? Kung tlgang gusto ggwin lahat ngpraan gagawing pwede ang hndi, tama ang mali... Kahit imposible kakayanin... Sge matutulog nako kakatpos ko palang kumain, s katapusan ala n kmi dto s unit... May ilang arw pa pra itama ang mga bagay bagay... Ituloy yung naputol, balikan yung iniwan... Kung hndi namn... Ganun tlga... Pra mkapag move on n ng maayos... Bye 4 now mi... Sleep nko tlaga”

So it's really over now, isn't it? Now you are done with your begging, I guess. Done with your crying. Done with your spites. You're done. I'm surprised why I'm hurting. I guess it's self inflicted. I always enjoy the role of the victim in any situation I involved myself into. I guess it's my perverted nature, trying to become good. Thus I'm bad, to the bones.

So I cried. Knowing that you could really be gone forever. It's not easy letting go of memories that already stuck deep beyond skin. Nobody laughs while bikini waxed. They all whimper. So I guess this is it now, huh?!

I had to leave, yes, I did. But I never had to deal with a total loss. Distance in space is not distance in affection. Despite islands and water, you stayed in my hand, professing your love in a beep. I still knew that I had you.

My coldness. It beat you up like how you beat me up. Made your pride deaf for a day, made your ego limp for two good days. Did your knee shake? I bet your heart fell off 19 times, like the 19 flights of stairs that I climbed down. Fearful. Determined to escape the blade that was in your hand.

A detour was all I needed. Somewhere, anywhere but not going back. I didn't care about certainty, at that point nothing was certain anyway. So I packed, left my job, left my friends, killed my dreams.

You've always been your manipulative, emotional blackmailing self. Change? You don't have the right to ever use that word. Now you tell me that you changed? As if it were the first time.

Don't blame me if I denied you of another chance. There were many chances wasted. I guess time wasted too. I will never let you in anymore. This facade? This is six months in the making and this facade cost me my twenty eight thousand pay check, so don't screw this anymore.

Yes. Facade. Because I am not heartless, that's where you failed the most. You did not melt my heart to stone. Inside, like a wall, is a brittle composition of sand. So don't threat me with deadlines, because the line has been drawn by my distance.

You know what I feared? Was if you showed me that you loved me more than anyone and anything. If you sacrificed huge. If you came and stayed with me here. If you asked my Mom for forgiveness. If you made yourself look stupid and pathetic. If you made me see that your life couldn't go on without me. If you sent and picked me up everyday from work. If you’ve let me sleep in your arms without any demands. If you kissed me when I needed it. If you embraced me when I felt weak. If you knew me, more than I knew myself. If you provided with me safety and not danger. If you told me, how you felt, while you looked into my eyes with so much longingness and sincerity, and you didn’t looked away and still watched me until I fell to sleep. But they never came.

So I will let myself whine again, sad again and cry again. Because after this short transition, my tears won't be for you no more.

Inception

2010-07-22T12:50:00.000-07:00

I watched IMAX today. I have been ogling to see it for weeks since it opened here in Cebu. So I succeeded on Sarge and Rosalka to come and watch it with me. I know Rosalka was a little half-hearted because he wanted to watch, The Last Airbender and Sarge because she doesn’t want to spend more money if she can watch Inception in 2D in lesser money. I guess I’m such a charmer that they’d finally agreed. When I finally bought our tickets, I realized that it wasn’t IMAX 3D. It’s only effing 2D. I swear I wanna go back to the counter and plead to the lady to refund our tickets. I thought it was karmic.

It was worth it I thought, even though the screen seems smaller than the one in Mall of Asia.

I’d say, Inception is a movie for the escapists. Darn who wouldn’t grab that IV for an alternate reality? A better world through a needle. It was a ride. Maybe the IMAX screen had added into it, but it was like two and a half hour of hypnotism. Only a few movies get me that feeling, like Valentine’s Day. I though it was Valentine’s Day all the while I was inside the theater, but it was March when I watched it.

I envy the mind of Christopher Nolan. I wonder what did he eat when he was growing up. Makes me want to practice my degree and be his shrink soon when he needs it. My head felt so heavy with all the gunfire, car collision and exploding buildings. But oh so amazed with the folding streets, anti-gravity, shifting stairs. But I guess it was purposely added there or it was simply because a Nolan film. Damn Nolan can’t be gay, his works are just too bad ass to be gay. If I could be in somebody’s head, it would be inside Christopher Nolan’s. I probably wouldn’t understand what was going on while I was inside. But it should be worth the shot.

I feel excited for Marion Cotillard. Who could forget her in “La Vie En Rose?” “Edith... Edith...” With so much French accent, by one of the characters. I must watch “9.” I want to see her with Meryl Streep and Nicole Kidman in a heavy drama.

Like I said, “I cant be sedated into a beautiful dream. My dream can instantly become my new reality. And I would jump off the building too, thinking it was a good "kick."

PS. I thought Joseph Gordon-Levitt’s and Ellen Page’s kiss was cute. And that spinning top, did it topple?

Salvation Army

2010-07-17T14:51:00.000-07:00

Damn. I can't believe what I just discovered. Cebu can be more than just the "otap" and skywalk and IMAX and white sand... Cebu is, ohh, can be a haven for many people who adore clothes and getting it cheap. The last time that I remember that I went to an "Ukay-ukay" shop, or from here on let me refer to it as Salvation Army, was maybe, 2 years ago. I remember I bought a double breasted six button denim jacket for 150 bucks. I sported it in the office, and the girls are just dying to get it. I lied, of course, and I said that I bought it for 700 bucks back in Davao. Damn they are willing to pay the same price.

Eyes dazing. Surroundings blurring, whirling like a whirlpool. Backtracking 21 years ago:

Address: Digos City, Davao del Sur

Time of day: 3:00 pm

Vision: Pile of clothes, Salvation Army

Feeling: Anxious, about to cry and cried

I lost my Mom in the middle of a Salvation Army store somewhere in Mindanao. I cried because I'm worried that I don't know my way back home. But for a good hour, I was careless and blissful digging each piece of used clothing from a mountain pile of them, throwing every piece of different colors and fabric, flying in the air and dropping back to the sea of lovely garments. Picking each one as a possible piece of gem. Beautiful clothes were just everywhere, waiting to be discovered. Its chemical smell, ohh, I can still vividly remember. It's addictive, making me giddy, nevertheless, it's Neverland. And I looked around, now car horns and nearby chattering came audible. The paradise is gone. The afternoon heat took over, the smell of fish and rotten vegetables reeked in the air. I thought, where is my mother?

Salvation Army Lady: Where do you live?

Crying Me: I live at 183 San Roque, Baybay, Malalag, Davao del Sur and my father is a policeman so send me home or he is going to arrest you.

Salvation Army Lady: (Laughing) What's the name of your father?

And I said my father's complete name.

Salvation Army Lady: Ok. Who is with you?

Still Crying Me: My mom, but I don't know where she is now. (Sobbing. Even harder.)

And a familiar voice stood out, I tried to make it out. "Where have you been? I've been looking for you everywhere!" The voice of my very upset mother stopped my screeching sob. She didn't like it when I cried loud. It was a precursor for her whip. And her whip was the last thing that I wanted when I was a kid.

Back to my 26-year old self. I always liked Salvation Army, but 'twas a long time ago that I visited one because I wasn't inspired at all. I can't seem to find a decent Salvation Army store in Makati. The stores are uber dusty, the clothes are uber old, and the stench and temperature is uber giddying. And that was my impression of a Salvation Army store for quite sometime, but not until last week.

I was on my way to Robinson's Place in Cebu, somewhere in Fuente. And I noticed this squalid place and I realized it was a Salvation Army shop. So I decided to check it out. I have no specific itinerary anyway. I was with my roommate, Rosalka. And this sleeveless shirt caught my attention so much that I ran, maybe 5 steps to grab it and feel it, and see it more closely. It's light brown cotton that has a print that says, "I am a weeddict." And I five-finger leaf design. I laughed my heart out. Thinking that the print was clever. I was going to buy it, until I gave in to what was lurking in my peripheral vision. I checked out other items hung in other racks. Shirts and jackets and Balenciaga golf shirts, a pink and green plaid Polo shirt, a Nike grey cotton jacket, a no-brand red bomber jacket, it was just flooding with good finds. So I grabbed everything that I could hold in my two hands and tried on all of them. Too small. Too big. Damn I was sweating and frustrated. I was so envy that Rosalka found this black and grey New Balance cotton jacket. I found it first but I picked the too big Nike black jacket instead. So he bought it. I tried to suggest that it was too old or too boring so he'd drop it and I, my evil self, will laugh on top of my lungs and pay it at the counter in a flash. But he was so passionate about it that he never tried it on anymore and went straight to the counter. "Huh! I am going to find something too." I noticed my right browse is slightly raised. And I found this familiar print in brown fabric, Gucci. Oh a wallet! It was lying all alone in the dusty shelf and I grabbed it. I looked at the price. Oh! 100 bucks. Then I inspected it. I see a serial number. Like SEE-ree-yus-lee? (With so much exaggeration.) Oh! I see Gucci engraved in white leather. It says Made in Italy. Huh? Is this for real? Oh! The feel of authentic Italian leather. So soft. So flat. This feels authentic Gucci. And I was slowly, and jovially walking towards the counter and grinning, feeling the faint sunlight ran on my face and I was holding this little piece of Italy in my right hand and a piece of purple bill in my left hand. You don't get Gucci at 100 bucks everyday. In my head, I was laughing, evil laugh. HA HA HA HA HA!

Retrograde

2010-05-26T04:33:00.000-07:00

It's true. Sometimes, I get lonely. Thinking what my life could have been better if I stayed as a trainer. I wasn't the trainee, I was the trainer. I was the captain of the ship, not one of the crew. And so I reminisce in dispondence, six years? The victories from battles that I have fought in the past six years of my tender age, they are all gone...

And so I imagined myself in a slightly faded jacket and a water bottle, Plantronic on my head, frantic face infront of a pc, one hand held high for help. Breath held, chest raised, eyes closed, listening as a sensation, retaliation forming up. Then my moment, I fumbled with words, stifling frustration, sounding pleasant, very agitated, sweating in cold temperature, got interrupted, apologized and cussed on. Mute button, concaved from overuse, the ticking of the Callmaster, manifesting anger at an unseen enemy. Too many buttons, too little patience, extremely meager pay.

But you know what, I have an on/off self that makes me survive and go to work everyday. Helping me swallow the discussions in training, all the non-observance of the EOP (98% of the time, a new record), wrong pronunciation, and staying tough through unlearning, learning, and a plethora of to not unlearn.

I have to remain optimistic. It's my only coping mechanism so I could stay sane and still hopeful about life, that my life can still be beautiful, that despite my ample time here, there are sweet memories and proud days slated sometime in my future. I daydream. I create a map in my head called Successlandia. I take each day at a time. I refuse being caught up in compromising situations (entirely a great effort, danger atracts me), or situations that could make me but happy. Simple formula, yet unpopular. "Sa sobrang simple ng solusyon, walang nakaisip." (Elona Jean, Feng Shui, 2004)

Promdi

2010-03-06T07:17:00.000-08:00

Today is my 7^th day in the province, away from the big city and its convenience, away from my friends, away from the time-killing power of the malls, away from the expensiveness of the 3D cinemas, away from the high-paying job opportunities, away from him, from our fights, from his anger management issues, away from him, and away from him, which is also, sad. And thank God because my rhinitis is getting better everyday. I thought it’s my body adjusting to the extreme change in temperature. We don’t have an ac here, and Mindanao has the worst of all, case of rotating brown out. 5 hours no power a day? That sucks to the Mt. Apo level. So now, I make sure that I sleep early so I’d still get enough sleep. Because Black Out the no-sleeping monster is sure to wake you up with sweat all over your dehydrated body and temperature very conducive for hating the National Power Corporation.

Well, this is my new life. I’ve lived here when I was young though, when I was in kindergarten until my first year in high school. Being gone and lived in Makati for 6 years, I guess it’s pretty normal that you forgot some old ways and got used to some new and totally different ways.

And so this is how it feels to be jobless, a total bum. It’s not fun, especially if you are alone in the powerless house everyday, because them guys are busy with their own lives – my Mom and her job, my Dad and his Philippine National Police-ness and my sister and her studies. Well, I appreciate that Sis comes home everyday after school, and travels everyday just to see us. Thanks Sis, except today, where the hell are you?

Now I am trying to get used to, again, how limited my activities are. Now I only have our house, our TV if there is electricity, a lot of food and care from my family. Not bad.

But I don’t want to continue this joblessness. I just updated my resume and will update my interviewing skills as the interviewee, maybe later. I need to get my English back to fluent again, because I want to land a job that will enable me to pay all my debt and buy presents for my family. I want to surprise them with stuff, and I already have some in my mind.

And to you… you’re still part of my future.

PS. I want to say “Goodluck” to EJ. You take care always and I want you to be happy. I was going to write something for you, like how we (Line of Flight, Citybuoy, Victor, AJ etc.) planned it, but I was so busy with a lot of shit lately, like packing all my stuff and leaving Makati City for good.

I haven’t heard anything from Flight of Ideas anymore lately, and it feels weird. I miss her.

Home

2010-02-12T20:07:00.001-08:00

Today I woke up extra refreshed. My sleep was rather short, but my thoughts have flown to a more beautiful place already, home.

My flight is at 7 o'clock tonight. I just texted my dad and he's picking me up later. I talked to my sister yesterday and I can hear her excitement, for me and for her iPod. I'll be gone for 6 days. And I wish to indulge myself with excessive relaxation and laziness, a gluttonous amount of seafood -- crabs, prawns, fish. I wanna ride on my motorcycle and leave trails on the shores. I missed the salty water of the sea just a few blocks from home. I want to scare myself one more time, with the creepy howling of the waves at night. I want to see how dark the alleys are at night. The tune of silence of that very humble place. I missed the fog in the morning, the little school girls passing by, their wet hair and still sleepy faces. The memories of a familiar bell in the morning, reminds me of my little self, almost made it to the flag ceremony.

I missed my family. Mom and Dad are not getting any younger. I don't want to surprise myself one day how old they have become. I want to see the wrinkles in their faces developing but barely noticed. I don't want to see them one day with voices unrecognizable, I want to have a familiarity of their voices until it changed without the feeling of strangeness. I wanna see them mature through age without looking away. Gradual is always smoother than all at once.

And to you... You will always be in my heart, even from a distance.

A Prayer

2010-02-02T23:12:00.000-08:00

Dear God,

Hi there. It's been a while that we really talked, or I talked to you. Last night was one of those times that I needed you the most. I felt alone in the place I call my home. I am away from my family so my family is my boyfriend and his sister. How come I am afraid of them? Afraid that they might be talking shit about me behind my back. How come I feel some coldness and hostility from his sister? How come I feel like she is blaming me for it? It wasn't something that we both wanted to happen.

Last night I cried. I was so terrified by the possible spite and hating. I wished that I were in another place, even now, I wish to open another door, to a room where fear is not around, where paranoia is not found, where questionning and blaming don't exist, where compromise is amicable and not repressing, where my heartbeat is not racing and where sleeping is easy.

So help me God. Amen.

Where do we go from here?

2010-01-27T18:13:00.000-08:00

What have we done to ourselves? Are we victims of love? We didn't want anything, for sure, but happiness. What so far have we been doing to find that happiness within us?

We cry. We are most of the time frustrated, why can we not make this place happy? We've been trying. You've been trying. I have been trying more than anything. Patience, I bet a lot of patience. You too, I know you did.

But it seems like we always find a way to drive each other away. You have too much anger. I had too much pain. Did we surrender? Why didn't we?

We only have either too much or too less of everything. Was there anything that's in moderation? Too much is as futile as too less.

What have we done? The feel of the knife's blade in my neck. Your fist against my puny body. The impact in my head it deafens me. My scare. Our horror. Your devil. My life, our lives are on the line. What have we done?

Now that it seems like our lives will end soon, where do we go from here?

I guess with the limited time that we have left, let's settle for something that love can flow, and stop thinking on how it should flow because forcing it is evil.

Crawl
Chris Brown
Graffiti

*I apologize for any resemblance.

The Header That Didn't Make It

2010-01-26T22:06:00.000-08:00

This is the header I call, The Header That Didn't Make It. You see, I just changed my header, but not courageous enough to overhaul the entire design of my blog. I refuse changes, I'm a little stubborn and sentimental specially on things that I think are pretty. I'm a proud mom of my old blog design, I made it without using Adobe, to begin with, I don't know how use the program. I wish I knew though.

The base idea is, it's a montage of details that describe me. Like my old header, it has snippets of the many things that make up who I am. Now, it's a jumble of things that are significant to me, and things that are prominently me.

Disco Ball - Top, left. I don't often go to the gimmick scene anymore. I have acquired the homebuddy-ness of my husband. It's also a personal decision to lie low on partying, to save up some money and to appease with the God (of the house). But from time to time, I sneak out. That's why sometimes I'm thankful if we fight on a weekend, specially Saturdays. The dance floor is heaven, filled with hot bodies, slithered with sweat. The energy is contageous, the smiles and hi's and hello's from strangers are elation. The booze powered confidence, the bottle in your hand and the stick of cigarette in between your fingers, they spell fun in every direction. Infact, this is how I used to describe life.

Britney Spears (the twisted caricature, bottom, left) and Lady Gaga (beside Brit-brit with that cute ribbon on her head) - Who hates Brit-brit? How dare you! Hate yourself! Enough said, I can't get enough of Brit-brit. I will puch you in the face if you say anything mean. I don't care if you call me crazy. I will shave my head, just like her. Infact I already did, reason, I just got bored. I can sing like her, infact I sing her songs on magic sing sounding like strangled Britney. And Lady GaGa, is an epitome of crazy so I like her too. The crazier, the better.

Love (bottom, very obvious) - No pun intended. I've been crazy about love. I don't know why, sometimes I even hate myself why I became so addicted on this exhausting, emotionally draining, finacially depleting, time consuming and socially enabling love. This lovegame is a bad romance.

Friendship Band (stupid looking lock of yarn, at the back of Love) - Is for friendship. I can't live without friends, that's what I know.

SE G705 (beside the pink piggy bank) - That's my phone, it's mine and that's it. I don't necessarily uber love my phone. I uber desire an iPhone, but, yes, but (nickels clanking). I like my phone now because it looks sleek, it has an elegant gold detail, it has wi-fi and it's screen is huge enough.

Piggy Bank (it's pink and huge, bottom) - I have been working for almost 5 years now, but I haven't saved even a cent. I live from pay day to pay day. The piggy bank represents that goal. I need to save up.

Blogger (small icon, orange, bottom, right) - Duh! I have a blogger account.

Facebook (small icon, blue, right below the Blogger icon) - Duh! I have a facebook account too.

Headphones (a little challenging to see, right on top of the piggy bank) - I love music, my taste may not be geniusly eccentric, or I don't really scrutinize it's every aspect, but when I hear good music, it's good music for me. I listen to house, electro, progressive, trance, R&B, soul (I love soul), pop and pop and pop. Wink. ♫ Tick tock, on the clock ♫ But the party don't stop, no ♫ Woah-oh oh oh ♫ Woah-oh oh oh ♫. Well that's the song in my head right now. Current favorite artist: Jazmine Sullivan. Current favorite song: Crawl by Chris Brown. They change frequently.

Planner - I'm obsessed with planners (Starbucks Planners), but they don't function as planners rather diaries. I love going through the pages and revisit my life bound each year, chronicled through pages and immortalized by ink. I love running through my fingers the bulkness of symbolic items pasted in the pages, the movie tickets, concert tickets, hospital bands, receipts, cigarette butts, etc. It's a planner slash scrap book slash diary slash parteeboi in literature.

An Epiphany of Freedom

2010-01-25T04:02:00.000-08:00

There is a growing epiphany that has been visiting me every now and then. It's frustrating, but it promises a great deal of an unknown relief. It involves a hefty surrender to my childhood ambitions, take a completely different shift in direction, see how it goes and go back to my old ways or abate into some ways more humble if all fail.

When I was in college, our teacher asked us to write about the most important thing in our life, aside from God, family and friends.I wrote about freedom. Without a complete understanding how that word meant to me, I chose it because it was the closest thing that I felt to be true, and I convinced myself. From then on, it affected the way I see life.

For five years I had that taste of freedom. I left Davao for Makati, lived alone, worked, had fun, made friends and some enemies. All my other priorities sidetracked. I said that I will study while I'm here, but it didn't happen. I gave myself smaller goals, like, take the LET (Licensure Examination for Teachers), but it also didn't happen. After 2 years of trying not so hard to realize those goals, I gave up. I said I want to be promoted but my first shot at a promotion in my previous company was made impossible by a warning. I screwed up with my attendance. Such warning made me not eligible to apply for any promotion for a year. I worked hard for a 1 year to get a clean record. I wanted to be a supervisor, when finally my warning slid back to clean slate, I didn't waste anymore time and applied for a supervisory position in a smaller LOB (Line of Business). I aced the first interview, I felt that my manager was really rooting for me. But the final interview didn't happen at all, it turns out that the account didn't really need anymore supervisors.

Because I was so hungry for a promotion, I applied to become an SME (Subject Matter Expert) or a CSA (Customer Service Advisor) in a much bigger LOB. I made it. At first I was proud of it, like how my colleagues in that team were so proud of their positions. But later, I wanted more. I ultimately wanted to become a trainer but there weren't any opening then, if there was, I applied but I didn't hear anything from the Human Resources at all. I learned to love what I was doing. I thought I was good at what I was doing. I got a lot of beautiful feedback from agents and even from the higher tier of advisors from Tacoma, Washington.

One evening while I was in a middle of a call, I felt a hand tapping on my back, it was my manager. She told me that there was another opening for the supervisory position. I dashed the first interview like a trouper and finally I landed the final interview with the director. The interview didn't start well, and it didn't end well too. A manager whom I have never worked before, newer than me in our account, told me that I lacked leadership. I wanted to defend myself, but that very limited time made me just shup up and sucked it all up. He asked me to leave his office and I vented to my friend. I thought despite how crappy the interview was, that I felt, I'm next in line. I really felt that I'm already there, just some time and I will become a supervisor.

Then another manager approached me. A former manager in our account who was then handling a different smaller account, just out of the blue asked me to submit my resume because he wants me to become one of his supervisors in his little account. I thought, that was it. But no, it wasn't my shot. I fucked up the interview. He was the only manager though, who was kind enough to have given me feedback on how I can improve my self on interviews. Very helpful points, very phony, arrogant but effective.

I was at the brink of just giving it all up. I didn't go to work for a week. I talked to my supervisor and said that I want to resign. But she had so much faith in me that she gave me a month-long vacation and just asked me to come back for work with my mojo again. I took the vacation. I gained little energy, been good again at my work and I filed a resignation. I'm sorry.

I took another job. A trainer position. I was clueless if I fit the job description at all. But it was a promotion. Now, it's been two years that I am working as a trainer. If I am happy? I guess.

Between those failures and victories are more stories of failures. I quit my previous company when I also decided to live with my current boyfriend then. We lasted for six months, and we threw all our dreams away. I hurt him more than he hurt me. Now, we have totally separate lives. He now works in Singapore and I'm stuck here. He was 4 years older than me, and yet I thought he was less serious about his future. But now, he's doing something for his future after all.

I transferred in a bigger house but my stay was short. I've known several guys when I was there. I knew Paul, who broke my heart after I broke his. Now we're friends and we go out sometimes. And I knew Daddy Chicken. Yes, the guy who has been the inspiration of my entries for a while. The one who had 5 boyfriends, that includes me. Down to 3, down to 2 and was a time, down to 1, me. Now, it's up to 2 again. I'm no longer even sure. All I know, he gets money out of him. Something that he cannot get out of me, I'm poorer than his state of poorness.

If Lemony Snicket has "A Series of Unfortunate Events" I have something to write about "A Series of Unbelievable and Unfortunate Events." Who dreamed to become a mistress? I never imagined myself being a paramore, but guess what, I was, or again, maybe it's still, I am. Who dreamed of being battered? I loathe violence. I had enough of it from my father's belt when I was young and I used to call battered wives stupid if not victims. Now I get it, being hit two times? And I still stayed, I guess I ate my words, I might have even flushed them into the toilet already. My departure from his love and violence is long overdue. Until it's spoiled.

He is my longest relationship. 42 days from now is our 1st year anniversary. What have we become in that 1 year? It was a continuous changing and changing ourselves to fit to each others' eyes. Sacrifices so hefty, it's not even funny. Now I'm tired, I guess. I'm 26 and and what have I become? Was I a better person now? Did I gain wisdom? Did I touch lives? Or, how many have I hurt and aggravated? How many people hate me? Or despise me? But, I certainly know that my parents won't be so proud of me.

Nobody is proud of me. I am not proud of myself.

So I am thinking, should I just give up everything, whatever I have invested and triumphed here in Makati and just retreat to my parents, in the province? I am thinking, I could get strength out that slow and silent province. Or, should I try harder to make it here on my own? I don't talk to my friends anymore because I don't have anything that could delight them to tell.

Should I just pick up few clothes and buy myself that plane ticket to Davao? Arrive home, sleep long, eat a hearty dinner cooked by Mom, talk to Mom and Dad, tell them that I am a big failure, cry, apologize, pray and start all lover again?

Lions, Tigers & Bears

2010-01-13T13:06:00.000-08:00

Hi Caramel Popcorn, I know that you are broken-hearted right now. I wish to comfort you, but as you see, circumstances just won't allow it.

I'm not apologizing because I already did. Neither do I expect a "Hi" from you, no. Things are good as they are, just suit yourself. Reconciliation will come, I don't want it forced. It might aggravate healing wounds.

I admire you, you never gave up on love. That's why I never bought your “I'm-jaded” excuse. I think jaded is such a strong word. Most of the time, I don't get it why a person is jaded. I see that as a melodic excuse to, "When are you coming Mr. Right?" He will come, never ever let despondence steal it from you, nor despondence totally consume you.

I'm pretty sure that you have enough shoulders to cry on, so I’m saving mine when you need them the most.

Lions, Tigers & Bears
Jazmine Sullivan
Fearless
Download Song

Randomness

2010-01-11T14:58:00.000-08:00

1. I just read somewhere that back in the nineties, the "cool" kids didn't watch TV. I found out that the so called "cool" kids then, well I guess I am part of that generation, were busy doing their homework and spending most of their time on anything that has something to do with school. And, if you watched TV, quote and quote, you were a "drooling philistine." How ridiculous. I remember, 1990, we had our first TV, it was a Philips black and white humungos TV set with sliding doors and wooden stands, well if you can picture that out. I can vividly remember my amazement, how my eyes were so glued, for the very first time, at that so called TV.

2. I can't forgive myself for watching "Panday" and "Ang Darling Kong Aswang."

3. Jazmine Sullivan rocks! You should try and listen to Bust Your Windows and Lions, Tigers & Bears.

4. I watched a season finale of Biggest Loser, and it totally blew my mind off. Their transformation is so inspiring. It's like magic, totally drastic and dramatic.

5. I just finished ANTM 13 and, it was OK. I think Tyra is losing her magic, and oozing with her craziness. But I still like Tyra, I'm still going to support her.

7. I can't wait for Glee's next season. I think I can relate to Rachel. Hehe. I remember, my mom used to place me on a table, every night to entertain everybody in the family. They had me dance, sing, and do a monologue. And until now, I'm still anxious if my father knows that I'm gay. Good Lordie.

8. I'm sorry Line of Flight that I was not able to go to dinner. Sad face. I bet you guys had a blast.

9. I think people should shop at Power Plant. I was in Power Plant last month with Mayumi, to buy some clothes for the Christmas Party. After I have finally sat on a chair in Mongkok, totally frustrated that I wasn't able to find a good pair of pants, I realized that I lost my iPod Touch. Damn, I just bought it like two months ago. My normal self said, "Ok, it's gone. Now, just learn to accept it. Don't be a wussy. Don't cry, forget it." But Mai said to look for it and go the stores I visited and so I did, but without any ounce of hope. I only visited four stores that time and so I first went to Topman, it wasn't there. I went to Anthology, it wasn't there, I went to People Are People and it wasn't there. And I remember I tried on a pair of pants at Bench and so I tried it there too. Two stores away, I saw that the rolling door half closed, I scampered and lucky to talk to the guy by the entrance. I greeted him and he flashed a cardboard, it says, "hearing impaired." So I waved a big question mark in the air. The nice gentleman, let me through and I talked to the attendants busy behind the counter. And I found my iPOd. Relief. I went back to Mai, who was eating already and she said, "If we went to a different mall, you wouldn't have found your iPod anymore." I couldn't agree more.

Done (10.30.2009)

2009-11-02T18:49:00.000-08:00

My heart never got tired. My eyes were red, my mouth was dry, my chest was heavy.
We've gotten into another fight last night. He blew cuss after cuss, hurt like bullet down to my soul. Anger, the only shield available. It wrapped me, until I was feverish, red like flame. It blocked some of my senses. I was driven by my pride and self-preservation.

Earlier, I was "done" and later I was "wait, I'm sorry, please let us work it out." No braveness nor a tad of pride have lifted my weary and defeated spirit. I was down on my knees despite distance and walls, consumed by desperation. Crying all my regrets.

I said things that I don't mean and now I'm paying its price. He said, he is done.

Ondoy

2009-09-27T17:09:00.000-07:00

I watched the morning news today and so far, there were 73 casualties, mostly children due to typhoon Ondoy.

I woke up one Saturday morning, immediately noticed the howling of the strong wind outside and the hard rain smashing through our window. I took a glance of the surroundings, and from our veranda was Makati City under water. Long lines of stuck vehicles occupied the South Super Highway, the city was dead that day.

I thought, nobody really expected this severeness.

Let us all offer our prayers to all the victims of this calamity, to the souls of those who had not survived the flood, to those who have lost their loved ones, to those who are still stranded and in need of help, to the souls of those who have gave up on hope and to those who are still holding on.

You can give your donations by clicking on these links:

Bayanihan Fund Drive: Donate to Ondoy Flood Victims

THE PHILIPPINE NATIONAL RED CROSS

abs-cbnNEWS.com

GMANewsTV

The Battle

2009-09-08T00:15:00.000-07:00

I will be happy. I should know that. I'm sure he is not the only person, capable of causing me happiness. I'm sure that there are other better guys who could make me happier.

It's just painful, even just the thought of leaving. I always see his face and the days that I will not have with him if I leave. And everytime he is in my head, it becomes very difficult to bear.

He's been trying to put up a very pleasant facade for over 3 days now, but it's pleasantly annoying and pleasantly empty and it's killing me. He has turned into this Stepford Wife soul-less mannequin.

What did I do? He got up early on Sunday, he went out to have the car battery re-charged. His sister and I woke up late. I bought food for us, I texted him. His sister and I finished the eggplant and the chop-suey and what left was the pork. He cried, he felt that I had him eat our left over. If I'm not around, he said he keeps food for me before they eat.

You see, I was all ready and unafraid of the thought of leaving. But now it's different. The desire for his forgivenss, despite how his reaction have blown out of proportion, is more powerful than my desire for emancipation.

I guess being strong is mind over desire. I guess this is the right battle that I should focus on right now. I need to love myself more and take care of myself more. It is selfish, but I think the universe says it's right. It's me against the universe for quite sometime anyway.

I went to a party a couple of weeks ago and a complete stranger told me this, "Don't listen to your heart, it is a liar." I don't get this, but I wanna give it a shot.

Battlefield
Jordin Sparks

Smoothie

2009-09-03T19:02:00.000-07:00

6 months. Dilemma.

I don't know where my anger is coming from. I don't know if they are even valid. I keep on complaining and keep on going back. It doesn't stop.

Am I angry because of my pride? Am I frustrated because I want more?

It doesn't end. I want it to end but extremely incapable of putting it an end. Love.

What do I want? I want to stop thinking about him, to stop wanting him, to stop missing him. Or, think less about him, want him less, miss him less. It can continue, but I want him to occupy lesser part of my thoughts, and lesser part of my desire.

My brain speaks up sometimes, if this heart is angry. But this heart rules most of the time, and this brain just stops working.

Where is the challenge here? Is it making your brain overpower your stubborn heart? Or, is it dealing with your angry heart well, so no evil shall take over the brain?

Though, there is a lost Me. The Me is so repressed. Fear stifled it. Did he lose some of his Me too? If lovers are like fruits in a smoothie, they should well blended. One fruit can lose some of its original characteristics, like its color as well as the other fruit should lose some of its characteristics, like its sourness. Both fruits should blend well to be called as the a fruit and b fruit smoothie. Add some milk and some sugar, roll with the blade for some time, and it should be perfect.

It is a Disorder

2009-08-28T10:17:00.000-07:00

I don't know where I am right now. I'm confused.

I'm torn. Should I leave or should I stay? If I leave, I feel emancipation. I see new clothes, I see Saturday nights, I see my DVD's, I see my TV set infront of me, no a/c, just a fan, but I am absolutely umhampered to satisfy what I want to do. But I think it is selfish. To leave a mess, leave behind a person, and totally forget about the "us" and just be "me" again. It's the guilt that is holding me back. As well as dreams, our dreams.

But if I stay. I see stress, uncertainty, hurt, tears, a lot of patience. Empty closet, sacrifices, household chores, massage every night, get me this, get me that. Don't expect anything in return, just wait for what he'll provide, be content with what you have. Self-pity, selflessness, empty pocket, obligations, be careful, don't lie on the sofa, don't touch the wall it might get dirty, don't push the chairs too close to the wall, missing boyfriend, no right to be mad. No license to be sad nor wear a sad face. No time to be upset, it is prohibited. He is the boss, I am his acessory. I am part of him, and he is never part of me. Reproach, anger, hate, fights.

I might be subjective, because I am unhappy. Unhappy but still trying to hold on.

I am in a relationship made in frail faith. Might be, could be, what if. Love is a disorder. It is a psychological condition that makes a person stupid, incapable to believe the rationalness.

Babae Sa Elevator

2009-08-24T00:08:00.000-07:00

Sa loob ng elevator.

May isang babae at isang lalake. Ang babae ay nasa kanyang kahinugang 35 habang ang lalake naman ay di nalalayo sa edad ng babae.

Ang babae ay may hawak na spill-proff mug na hindi Starbucks. Transparent yong mug niya kaya kita ko na medyo nabawasan na ang kanyang kape na halatang hinaluan ng Coffeemate. Si ate ay hindi talaga kapayatan, kaya naman laking gulat at taas ng kilay ko noong nagsimulana siyang magcomplain.

“Ano ba naman yong photographer, talagang finocus talaga sa mukha ko, sobrang lapit… feeling ko tuloy ang lake lake ng mukha. Sabi ko talaga, magjo-jogging na talaga ako araw araw.”

Tiningnan ko si Ate. Kitang kitang mo sa mukha ni Ate ang pagkabahala at pagkabalisa. Hindi ako makapaniwala sa nakita ko. Hindi ba niya alam na malake talaga ang mukha niya? Ang panget naman kung bibigyan siya ng maliit na mukha sa lapad ng leeg niya. Magmumukha siyang pugot na manika.

Hinintay ko kung ano ang magiging reaksyon ni Kuya na kasama ni Ate. Hindi ko alam kung sadyang hindi na nagsalita si Kuya or hindi nalang talaga siya nakapagsalita. Nakatingin na lamang siya kay Ate, habang si Ate ay nakatitig sa saradong pintuan ng elevator. Although, may tila nakakubling ngiti sa mukha ni Kuya.

Hindi pa natapos duon si Ate, patuloy pa rin siya sa pareklami sa ginawa ng photographer. Naku Ate, sinisi mo pa ang photographer. Feeling ko, nagpapakyut ka lang kay Kuya.

Morning Sickness

2009-08-20T19:16:00.000-07:00

This morning, I woke up and tried to hug him. He was repulsing. With an irritated tone he said, "Yong buhok mo makati." I asked him if I did something again, considering that we were just sleeping and I just woke up. We've been quarrelsome lately, two point five fights a week in average.

His sister heard his complain and checked us out, asked me if he was crying. I was not in my most lucid state so the question blew me with concern. I asked him again, "OK ka lang Dad?" He said "U-um" sternly.

Then he rose up and went to the bathroom. I got up and followed him, checking for the third time. "OK ka lang Dad?" I asked concernly. He had the same answer but more irked, "OK nga lang ako Mi."

We went back to bed together and the nagging started. "Tanong ka nang tanong kung OK lang ako. Ang kulit kulit, nakakairita. Bwisit!"

I turned my back, closed my eyes for 5 minutes, his sister came inside the room and I walked off to the dark and empty living room. I lit a cigarette and headed to the bathroom, hoping that the cold water will wash off the confined anger.

Closed Coffin, Semi-closed Closet

2009-08-17T00:41:00.000-07:00

I'm scared, not because my grandmother died, not because the last time I saw her was 5 years ago and not because I lost my college ring that my uncle bought me as a present in college.

Because, I'm turning 26 and all my other cousins 25 and above got married and they have children already.

Because, I'm the fairest in the family and the most vain. I wear bangs down to my eyes, I sport an uber-sized sunglasses and I am going to wear a grey vest over a black cap sleeved shirt and a white pair of skinny jeans. Top it with a bright yellow gym bag.

Because, the memories that I have of my uncles, whom I have last seen more than 10 years ago were calling me in my feminized name.

Because, only my mother and my sister know that I am gay and the rest, only suspecting or some are convinced or trying to convince themselves that I am straight.

Because, my father is there and he doesn't know.

I went home after 5 years to Agusan del Sur where I finished high school. My emotions were a mixture of excitement and terror.

My grandmother, who took care of me for three years, while I was in high school, died. Our last conversation was on her birthday, a month before she died. I promised to buy her a new pair of eye glasses. July 14, I woke up with a text message from my mom that "Lola Juanita" died. I didn't receive my pay until the 15th, when I was planning on sending her money for her eye glasses. I guess it was too late. She slipped in the path walk at the back of the house while watering her orchids. She was a healthy woman at 77. It was one of her prayers, that if He took her, she wanted it fast and easy. She didn't want her children to suffer for her slow death.

July 20, my flight to BXU at 9:50 in the morning left without me. I had to rebook my ticket to the next flight, with insufficient cash in my wallet and no ATM that dispenses money for my card. I hailed a cab to find a BPI ATM, I was already close to crying when the cab driver asked me curiously, "Sir, Pililipino ho ba kayo?" and I said, "Opo. Pilipino po. Bakit po?" I saw him smirked through the car mirror, "Akala ko po kasi Korean kayo!" Then I was close to cackling, but I remember, my grandmother died.

I arrived home with P100.00 in my pocket. Then I saw my grandmother's casket. I didn’t cry, but surely sad. I didn’t expect that the next time I will see her; she is already inside a white coffin, motionless, lifeless. She’s gone. Every time I think about it, I still feel heavy hearted. I know how proud she was every time I bring home a trophy for winning school contests and how disappointed when I come home defeated. She was so proud of me, through a friend of mine, she expressed that she knew I was gay, and accepted it. How I wish we could have talked in my gay self, it could have been very liberating. There is nothing more liberating than being yourself in front of your family. Something that I don’t have.

On my first night, I went to the kitchen because I have literally noone to talk to. If they are not busy, they're old ladies, they're unfamiliar faces, or they're my male relatives. And I seem like from another planet if I'm with my uncles and grandfathers. I stood at the back doorway and I saw my little cousins playing in the dark. And I saw my 8-year old cousin's face became visible in the busy blur of the evening darkness. He smiled at me and stared at me with so much curiosity. Then he sang, "babae po ako..." with a step that sways his hips to his left and right. I was caught off guard. I quickly departed and looked for a safer place. I redeemed myself on a seat in the mass in the living room, with my father, mother and sister seated at my back.

On my second night, I was busy serving coffee. While all my other cousins, uncles and grandfathers are busy gambling, I was busy in the kitchen with my aunts, sister, my cousins' wives and other old ladies. We were preparing sandwiches, packing biscuits and making juice and coffee. Who would question my sexual orientation with the role that I chose? Hmm...

So there I was, resting a tray of coffee in my right hip and holding the other edge of the tray with my both hands. I have a hanky worn on my head ribboned in my nape, tucking a plaid sarong and sporting a lose plain bodice with oversized sleeves, calling the attention of everybody with my clanking pair of wooden slip-ons, "bakya." The wind blowing the rice field and my skirt, my eyes squinting in the siesta sun, swaying to the tune of a folk music, "te-de-te-de-den-ten, ten-ten, te-de-den-ten..."

Thanks for not buying it. But of course, it's a sure way to a butt stroke with my father's M16. Going back, I was serving coffee to this table with my father playing mahjong and an unfamiliar, supposedly, uncle of mine. "Kape po." I politely said. This supposedly uncle looked at me and said, "Hindi ko kailangan ng kape, kailangan ko ng ka-table." then a smirk. What the hell! And he didn't stop there, there was a slight grab in my ass that made me just want to disappear in thin air. My freaking father is in my left, his face 3 inches away from my elbow. Everything went blur and I didn't see anyone except the door to the house and the staircase going up stairs to my room.

The day of the burial came. All of my relatives clad a purple shirt with a print in the back, I call it our burial uniform. Having slept for 2 hours my mom woke me up to ask me if my shirt should be altered. My mom knew that I won't wear a shirt that is a size bigger. I said yes with my impaired judgment.

And, I looked like Winnie the Pooh with a Roxy board shorts. Spell H-A-N-G-I-N-G. But I didn't care, I'm pretty sure that they won't bother asking me, it was my grandmother's burial for crying out loud. No one dared to ask though.

I left the small town with people, I'm sure with heightened suspicions. I hope that they are still proud of me. No matter what my sexual preference is, I'm still the same grandson who brought home awards in high school, who was captain in the CAT, who was the valedictorian in my class, who represented CARAGA region in Baguio City and won 2nd Runner Up Mr. PASSA Ambassador, who won the RH Club Extemporaneous Speech two years in a row in the province. I was still the same nephew who jumped off from the top load of a running jeepney that almost made him blind, the one who crashed his aunt’s motorcycle. I hope that in their eyes being gay doesn't make me less of who I am.

I want to be FREE!

2009-06-29T08:51:00.000-07:00