In sleep we lose our voices
- Spongecola, Nocturne
---
But in dreams we get to live our own temporal bliss.
Oh please let me dream the best sunset tonight...
---
Nakahubad,
nakadapa
habang ang electric fan ay
nakatapat sa paa.
Kay sarap sanang
may kayakap sa kama.
Saturday, March 29, 2008
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Awakening | Enter Dominus
only in suffering will we find true enlightenment
- Dr. L.R. Tope
kita mo naman, kahit isang taon akong walang trabaho hindi Niya kami pinabayaan.
- Gripen, explaining his spiritual beliefs.
---
Sa panaginip, nakita ko ang aking sarili sa tapat ng Santa Clara Church.
Bumili ako ng itlog na nilalako ng mga tindera sa gate bago pumasok sa loob. Sa tagal ko ng nagagawi sa simbahan na iyon upang humingi ng prayer intercessions kay Santa Clara, panahon naman na suklian ko ang mga sagot niya sa aking mga dasal sa pamamagitan ng pagtulong sa mga madreng nakatira doon.
Naglakad ako patungo sa dulong gusali kung saan inihahabilin ang mga donasyon. Ang daan mula Katipunan pababa ay medyo matarik. Ngunit ito naman ay napapalitan ng pagkamangha sapagkat matatanaw mo ang kapatagan ng Marikina at Pasig sa gawing dulo ng simbahan.
Mangilan-ngilan lang ang mga tao noong hapong iyon. Tila ang katahimikan ng paligid ay nang-eenganyo sa mga bisitang kagaya ko upang magreflect at manalangin ng taimtim sa harap ng poon.
Ngunit sa panaginip na iyon, iba ang pakay ko sa simbahan. Ramdam ko ang napipintong paghaharap namin ng isang taong posibleng magpabago sa aking pagtingin sa buhay. Ilang beses ko ng narinig ang bulong niya sa akin. Sa pagkakataong ito, ako na mismo ang nangahas hanapin kung sino ba ang taong iyon na panay ang sabi sa aking,
"Gumising ka na..."
Nanalangin ako ng mataimtim kay Lord sa harap ng rebulto ni Santa Clara. Sa kaliwa ko ay may matandang babaeng nakabelo na nagrorosaryo. Sa tabi naman niya ay may isang batang lalaking biglang nagtatakbo palabas ng maliit na chapel upang hanapin ang kanyang mga kasama. Susundan ko sana ng tingin patalikod ang bata nang biglang dating naman ng isang binata na tila kasing tangkad at kasing-edad ko kung pagmamasdan mo siya sa malayo.
Sa unang tingin, ang binata ay hindi mo mapapagkamalang nagsisimba. Paano ba naman ay skinhead ito, may hikaw na pilak sa kaliwang kilay, may goatie at soul patch sa kanyang baba at may tribal na tattoo sa kanang braso. Hindi rin nakatulong ang kanyang suot na kulay itim na t-shirt at kupas na grey pants na halatang pinaglumaan na nito. Ngunit sa kabila ng kanyang matikas na itsura, mataimtim na nagdasal ang binata sa harap ng altar. Alam kong mas malalim ang kanyang paniniwala kaysa sa akin. At pilit ko mang iwasan tumitig sa kanya, masyadong maakit ang kanyang dating sa akin. Sa tagal naming dalawa sa loob ng chapel, pakiramdam kong nahalata niya ang aking buong tapang na pagpapapansin sa kanya.
Nauna akong lumabas ng chapel upang magsindi ng kandila malapit sa mismong simbahan. Papalubog na ang araw noon at medyo lumalamig na ang paligid. Akala ko ay doon na nagtatapos ang panandaliang pagtatagpo namin ng binata nang biglang sa aking pagtalikod upang maglakad palabas, naroon siya't papalapit sa akin.
"Pare is there a problem?" Unang bungad niya sa akin?
"Huh? Bakit tol?" Ang mabilis kong tugon sa kanya.
"Bakit ka tingin ng tingin sa akin kanina? May problema ba?" Ang kanyang maangas na boses ay medyo nagpakaba sa akin.
"Ah eh, para kasing kahawig mo yung tropa ko dati sa high school. Hindi naman pala." Sagot ko sa kanya.
"San ka ba nag-aral ng high school?" Tanong niya sa akin.
"Sa PUP. Hindi ka naman dun diba?"
"Hindi." Maikli niyang sagot sa akin.
Akala ko ay matatapos na doon ang aming usapan. Ngunit sa aking pagkamangha, ang usapan namin tungkol sa high school ay nagtuloy-tuloy upang mapag-usapan namin ang aming mga buhay. Nalaman ko na magkasing edad kami, parehong panganay sa pamilya at ulila na sa ama. Sa malapitan, para lang kaming magkambal. Singkit rin ang kanyang mga mata, makapal rin ang kanyang labi at malapad rin ang kanyang pangangatawan. Gusto ko sanang tanungin kung PLU siya na kagaya ko, ngunit dahil inassume kong straight siya sa aming pagtatagpo, pinili kong umaktong straight sa kanyang harapan.
Tinanong ko siya kung madalas siyang magawi sa Santa Clara. Ang sabi niya sa akin, nadiskubre niya ang simbahan dahil sa kanyang nanay. Dagdag pa niya dito, minsan siyang pinagdala ng prayer request ng kanyang lola para isama ng mga madre sa kanilang pagrorosaryo. Matapos noon, sa tuwing madedehado siya sa kanyang mga dala-dalang problema, sa Santa Clara lang siya tumatakbo upang kumuha ng buwelo.
"Wala namang masama diba? Saka sinasagot naman ang mga dasal ko pag dito ako nagpupunta." Pangiti niyang hirit sa akin.
Sa mga oras na iyon ay magaan na ang loob namin sa isa't isa.
Marami pa kaming napagkwentuhan, ngunit hindi ko na matandaan kung ano ang mga iyon. Napansin na lang namin na nagsisilabasan na ng simbahan ang ibang mga bisita, na sa hindi ko malamang dahilan ay nakatingin lang sa akin. Nang mapansin ng binata na nagsisialisan na ang mga tao, dahan-dahan itong tumayo sa aming kinauupuan. Hindi man niya ito sabihin, ngunit malinaw na pinahiwatig niyang kailangan na rin naming lumabas ng Santa Clara.
"Paano tsong hanggang dito na lang." Paalam niya sa akin.
"Sana magkita ulit tayo." Pahiwatig ko naman sa kanya.
"Malay mo, magkasalubong ulit tayo dito." Habang sinasabi niya ito, kinakapa niya ang kanyang bulsa, tila may hinahanap sa loob nito.
"Remembrance ko sayo brod." Isang asul na plastic na rosaryo ang inabot niya sa akin.
"Hindi ako nagrorosaryo eh. Pero salamat dito." Pinagmasdan kong maigi ang rosaryo. Kamukha ito ng rosaryong tinago ko sa aking drawer matagal na panahon na ang nakakaraan.
"Lam mo bro, may narealize akong isang bagay sa buhay." Ang sabi ng binata sa akin. Bago pa ako makapagsalita ay tinuloy niya ang kanyang sasabihin. "I live life in the fast lane. Pasarap dito, kagaguhan doon. Gago ako kung sa gago at ang masaklap dun, pailalim ako kung tumarantado."
"Pero one thing is for sure. I don't want to end things wasted. Sandali lang ang buhay... Parang itong pagtatagpo natin. Despite life's briefness, might as well do something that would make my life meaningful. After all, we don't know. Maraming bagay sa mundo ang hanggang sa ngayon ay hindi pa rin natin maipaliwanag."
"Ano bang pwede kong gawin sa buhay ko?" Tanong ko sa kanya.
"Ikaw ang bahala. Basta ako, binabalanse ko ang sarili ko. Hangga't maari, nag-iiwan ako ng mabuti kesa masama sa kapwa. Yun ako parekoy." Payabang niyang sagot sa akin.
Magsasalita pa sana ako tungkol sa aking kabataan, kung saan naging leader ako ng mga Marian devotee sa aming baranggay. Sasabihin ko sana sa kanya na kahit napakatagal ko nang hindi nagrorosaryo, memorize ko pa sa puso ang mga dasal dito.
Bago sana kami maghiwalay, aaminin ko sa kanya na ang dahilan bakit nag-iba ako ng landas ay dahil nadiskubre ko ang masarap na pakiramdam dulot ng karnal na kaligayahan...
Ngunit, matapos kong mailagay sa kailaliman ng aking bag ang rosaryong bigay ng binata, sa muling pagharap ko'y nawala na siyang parang bula.
Nasa labas na pala kami ng simbahan.
---
Nagising ako bandang alas kwatro ng madaling araw.
Habang pilit inaala ang mga sinabi ng binata sa akin na pinangalanan ko na lang na Dominus, tumayo ako upang kunin ang isang bagay na matagal ko nang pinakatatago sa drawer ng aking kabinet.
"Lagi akong uhaw over something these days... Bakit lagi akong takot..." Tanong ko sa aking sarili.
Hawak ang asul na rosaryong kinuha ko sa drawer ng aking kabinet, ilang minuto ko ring pinagmasdan ito kahit madilim ang aking kwarto at ang tanging ilaw na bumabalot dito ay nangagaling pa sa bintana ng kapitbahay.
Wala namang mawawala kung susubukan ko ulit...
Noong umaga ring iyon, matapos ang mahabang panahong pandededma dito, natuto ulit akong mag rosary.
- Dr. L.R. Tope
kita mo naman, kahit isang taon akong walang trabaho hindi Niya kami pinabayaan.
- Gripen, explaining his spiritual beliefs.
---
Sa panaginip, nakita ko ang aking sarili sa tapat ng Santa Clara Church.
Bumili ako ng itlog na nilalako ng mga tindera sa gate bago pumasok sa loob. Sa tagal ko ng nagagawi sa simbahan na iyon upang humingi ng prayer intercessions kay Santa Clara, panahon naman na suklian ko ang mga sagot niya sa aking mga dasal sa pamamagitan ng pagtulong sa mga madreng nakatira doon.
Naglakad ako patungo sa dulong gusali kung saan inihahabilin ang mga donasyon. Ang daan mula Katipunan pababa ay medyo matarik. Ngunit ito naman ay napapalitan ng pagkamangha sapagkat matatanaw mo ang kapatagan ng Marikina at Pasig sa gawing dulo ng simbahan.
Mangilan-ngilan lang ang mga tao noong hapong iyon. Tila ang katahimikan ng paligid ay nang-eenganyo sa mga bisitang kagaya ko upang magreflect at manalangin ng taimtim sa harap ng poon.
Ngunit sa panaginip na iyon, iba ang pakay ko sa simbahan. Ramdam ko ang napipintong paghaharap namin ng isang taong posibleng magpabago sa aking pagtingin sa buhay. Ilang beses ko ng narinig ang bulong niya sa akin. Sa pagkakataong ito, ako na mismo ang nangahas hanapin kung sino ba ang taong iyon na panay ang sabi sa aking,
"Gumising ka na..."
Nanalangin ako ng mataimtim kay Lord sa harap ng rebulto ni Santa Clara. Sa kaliwa ko ay may matandang babaeng nakabelo na nagrorosaryo. Sa tabi naman niya ay may isang batang lalaking biglang nagtatakbo palabas ng maliit na chapel upang hanapin ang kanyang mga kasama. Susundan ko sana ng tingin patalikod ang bata nang biglang dating naman ng isang binata na tila kasing tangkad at kasing-edad ko kung pagmamasdan mo siya sa malayo.
Sa unang tingin, ang binata ay hindi mo mapapagkamalang nagsisimba. Paano ba naman ay skinhead ito, may hikaw na pilak sa kaliwang kilay, may goatie at soul patch sa kanyang baba at may tribal na tattoo sa kanang braso. Hindi rin nakatulong ang kanyang suot na kulay itim na t-shirt at kupas na grey pants na halatang pinaglumaan na nito. Ngunit sa kabila ng kanyang matikas na itsura, mataimtim na nagdasal ang binata sa harap ng altar. Alam kong mas malalim ang kanyang paniniwala kaysa sa akin. At pilit ko mang iwasan tumitig sa kanya, masyadong maakit ang kanyang dating sa akin. Sa tagal naming dalawa sa loob ng chapel, pakiramdam kong nahalata niya ang aking buong tapang na pagpapapansin sa kanya.
Nauna akong lumabas ng chapel upang magsindi ng kandila malapit sa mismong simbahan. Papalubog na ang araw noon at medyo lumalamig na ang paligid. Akala ko ay doon na nagtatapos ang panandaliang pagtatagpo namin ng binata nang biglang sa aking pagtalikod upang maglakad palabas, naroon siya't papalapit sa akin.
"Pare is there a problem?" Unang bungad niya sa akin?
"Huh? Bakit tol?" Ang mabilis kong tugon sa kanya.
"Bakit ka tingin ng tingin sa akin kanina? May problema ba?" Ang kanyang maangas na boses ay medyo nagpakaba sa akin.
"Ah eh, para kasing kahawig mo yung tropa ko dati sa high school. Hindi naman pala." Sagot ko sa kanya.
"San ka ba nag-aral ng high school?" Tanong niya sa akin.
"Sa PUP. Hindi ka naman dun diba?"
"Hindi." Maikli niyang sagot sa akin.
Akala ko ay matatapos na doon ang aming usapan. Ngunit sa aking pagkamangha, ang usapan namin tungkol sa high school ay nagtuloy-tuloy upang mapag-usapan namin ang aming mga buhay. Nalaman ko na magkasing edad kami, parehong panganay sa pamilya at ulila na sa ama. Sa malapitan, para lang kaming magkambal. Singkit rin ang kanyang mga mata, makapal rin ang kanyang labi at malapad rin ang kanyang pangangatawan. Gusto ko sanang tanungin kung PLU siya na kagaya ko, ngunit dahil inassume kong straight siya sa aming pagtatagpo, pinili kong umaktong straight sa kanyang harapan.
Tinanong ko siya kung madalas siyang magawi sa Santa Clara. Ang sabi niya sa akin, nadiskubre niya ang simbahan dahil sa kanyang nanay. Dagdag pa niya dito, minsan siyang pinagdala ng prayer request ng kanyang lola para isama ng mga madre sa kanilang pagrorosaryo. Matapos noon, sa tuwing madedehado siya sa kanyang mga dala-dalang problema, sa Santa Clara lang siya tumatakbo upang kumuha ng buwelo.
"Wala namang masama diba? Saka sinasagot naman ang mga dasal ko pag dito ako nagpupunta." Pangiti niyang hirit sa akin.
Sa mga oras na iyon ay magaan na ang loob namin sa isa't isa.
Marami pa kaming napagkwentuhan, ngunit hindi ko na matandaan kung ano ang mga iyon. Napansin na lang namin na nagsisilabasan na ng simbahan ang ibang mga bisita, na sa hindi ko malamang dahilan ay nakatingin lang sa akin. Nang mapansin ng binata na nagsisialisan na ang mga tao, dahan-dahan itong tumayo sa aming kinauupuan. Hindi man niya ito sabihin, ngunit malinaw na pinahiwatig niyang kailangan na rin naming lumabas ng Santa Clara.
"Paano tsong hanggang dito na lang." Paalam niya sa akin.
"Sana magkita ulit tayo." Pahiwatig ko naman sa kanya.
"Malay mo, magkasalubong ulit tayo dito." Habang sinasabi niya ito, kinakapa niya ang kanyang bulsa, tila may hinahanap sa loob nito.
"Remembrance ko sayo brod." Isang asul na plastic na rosaryo ang inabot niya sa akin.
"Hindi ako nagrorosaryo eh. Pero salamat dito." Pinagmasdan kong maigi ang rosaryo. Kamukha ito ng rosaryong tinago ko sa aking drawer matagal na panahon na ang nakakaraan.
"Lam mo bro, may narealize akong isang bagay sa buhay." Ang sabi ng binata sa akin. Bago pa ako makapagsalita ay tinuloy niya ang kanyang sasabihin. "I live life in the fast lane. Pasarap dito, kagaguhan doon. Gago ako kung sa gago at ang masaklap dun, pailalim ako kung tumarantado."
"Pero one thing is for sure. I don't want to end things wasted. Sandali lang ang buhay... Parang itong pagtatagpo natin. Despite life's briefness, might as well do something that would make my life meaningful. After all, we don't know. Maraming bagay sa mundo ang hanggang sa ngayon ay hindi pa rin natin maipaliwanag."
"Ano bang pwede kong gawin sa buhay ko?" Tanong ko sa kanya.
"Ikaw ang bahala. Basta ako, binabalanse ko ang sarili ko. Hangga't maari, nag-iiwan ako ng mabuti kesa masama sa kapwa. Yun ako parekoy." Payabang niyang sagot sa akin.
Magsasalita pa sana ako tungkol sa aking kabataan, kung saan naging leader ako ng mga Marian devotee sa aming baranggay. Sasabihin ko sana sa kanya na kahit napakatagal ko nang hindi nagrorosaryo, memorize ko pa sa puso ang mga dasal dito.
Bago sana kami maghiwalay, aaminin ko sa kanya na ang dahilan bakit nag-iba ako ng landas ay dahil nadiskubre ko ang masarap na pakiramdam dulot ng karnal na kaligayahan...
Ngunit, matapos kong mailagay sa kailaliman ng aking bag ang rosaryong bigay ng binata, sa muling pagharap ko'y nawala na siyang parang bula.
Nasa labas na pala kami ng simbahan.
---
Nagising ako bandang alas kwatro ng madaling araw.
Habang pilit inaala ang mga sinabi ng binata sa akin na pinangalanan ko na lang na Dominus, tumayo ako upang kunin ang isang bagay na matagal ko nang pinakatatago sa drawer ng aking kabinet.
"Lagi akong uhaw over something these days... Bakit lagi akong takot..." Tanong ko sa aking sarili.
Hawak ang asul na rosaryong kinuha ko sa drawer ng aking kabinet, ilang minuto ko ring pinagmasdan ito kahit madilim ang aking kwarto at ang tanging ilaw na bumabalot dito ay nangagaling pa sa bintana ng kapitbahay.
Wala namang mawawala kung susubukan ko ulit...
Noong umaga ring iyon, matapos ang mahabang panahong pandededma dito, natuto ulit akong mag rosary.
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Tita Cory
Her husband was brutally assassinated two years after I was born.
And from there she became part of my life, even if such connection remains very distant.
The world hails her as the First Female President in Asia, but as far as I can remember, the only thing that comes to mind whenever I think about her presidency are the numerous coup attempts that almost toppled her leadership.
Who would ever forget, we used to live a walking distance away from Malacanang. It was 2 am in the morning. We heard Machine Gun and Armalite sounds everywhere. Mom was pushing our heads under the bed, as she covered our little bodies with all the pillows she could grab on top of the bed. Dad was nowhere to be found. He must have been hiding somewhere. Remembering those days, I rarely saw him being with us.
The next morning, we were picked up by my mother's sister who was worried about our situation. We stayed in her place somewhere in Paranaque for a week until things have settled down and order was restored.
And from there she became part of my life, even if such connection remains very distant.
The world hails her as the First Female President in Asia, but as far as I can remember, the only thing that comes to mind whenever I think about her presidency are the numerous coup attempts that almost toppled her leadership.
Who would ever forget, we used to live a walking distance away from Malacanang. It was 2 am in the morning. We heard Machine Gun and Armalite sounds everywhere. Mom was pushing our heads under the bed, as she covered our little bodies with all the pillows she could grab on top of the bed. Dad was nowhere to be found. He must have been hiding somewhere. Remembering those days, I rarely saw him being with us.
The next morning, we were picked up by my mother's sister who was worried about our situation. We stayed in her place somewhere in Paranaque for a week until things have settled down and order was restored.
In those days, everyone who raised the L or Laban sign were considered good guys. But since my late father belonged to the communist underground during her time and my mother had sympathies with those who were against American imperialism, which apparently she openly supported during her presidency, I never felt her as President. Yes, she was there during the two great disasters - the July 1990 earthquake and the 1991 Mt. Pinatubo Eruption. It was during her time where we experienced collective suffering by enduring an 8-hour brownout for almost half a year. It was also the time when Francis Magalona became synonymous with his hit song "Mga Kababayan (ko)."
I was still in elementary when she stepped down as the Pangulo that's why I don't remember much as to what her contributions were during her presidency.
It was later in life I realized her true worth as the leader.
It was in college at the height of the Estrada Impeachment Trial where our lives crossed paths. There was a rally in the Senate, and by reenacting the Jericho March, which toppled the walls of Jericho during biblical times, the organizers hoped that by peacefully marching around the senate will the senators be awaken to the true voice of the people.
She was there walking among us.
I do not remember much, but I saw myself approaching to shake her hand. Her bodyguards did not force me away, since probably, they felt I was just a student overwhelmed by her gracious presence. I swear, her yellow blazer was a symbol of radiance in that hot January afternoon. She said some words of affection after I shook her hands. I don't remember them anymore but our brief meeting had made me decide to join the rallies, until Estrada was forced out of office a month after our so-called Jericho March.
After the new president took office, I never joined any civil disobedience activities again.
---
Our mother had suffered from an episode of high blood pressure and difficulty in breathing followed by fever during the week in between Christmas and New Year. Since that time, we became concerned because of her consistent cough, loss of appetite and noticeable weight loss,” she said.
---
The news came as a shock yesterday because for some reasons, I felt that a part of me is moved by her children's gloomy announcement.
It's like having an epic heroine you see all the time on television, a Mon Mothma of modern times suddenly capitulating due to failing health. Others hail her as an icon of democracy. There is no doubt about that. Whenever I think of Tita Cory, not only do I see a mother, intervening for the good of the nation, I guess in the long course of things, she has become the best example of what an enlightened and modest leader should emulate.
It's still too early to tell what the future holds for her. But now that she is suffering. Now that her future remains uncertain. My only regret is that of all the times I've been free to join her non-violent crusades - in Makati, Greenhills or elsewhere, I chose to be a fence-sitter.
An apathetic big boy to the realities of the nation.
And as much as I would like to be optimistic about her health, there remain a possibility that her pro-active days are nearing over.
She was there walking among us.
I do not remember much, but I saw myself approaching to shake her hand. Her bodyguards did not force me away, since probably, they felt I was just a student overwhelmed by her gracious presence. I swear, her yellow blazer was a symbol of radiance in that hot January afternoon. She said some words of affection after I shook her hands. I don't remember them anymore but our brief meeting had made me decide to join the rallies, until Estrada was forced out of office a month after our so-called Jericho March.After the new president took office, I never joined any civil disobedience activities again.
---
Our mother had suffered from an episode of high blood pressure and difficulty in breathing followed by fever during the week in between Christmas and New Year. Since that time, we became concerned because of her consistent cough, loss of appetite and noticeable weight loss,” she said.
"Our mom wanted to know what was wrong with her, and with her family by her side, she submitted herself to a check-up and several tests. The results showed that our mother is suffering cancer of the colon," she added.
The Aquino family statement said it was the former president who wanted her condition made public because she “has always believed in being upfront. Over and above anything else, she's a woman who has lived her entire life entrusting everything to the Lord, and she has always been a woman of great faith.”
“Alam po namin na ang buhay ng aming pamilya ay bahagi na ng kasaysayan ng ating bayan. Desisyon po ng nanay namin na mag-release kami ng statement, para maunawaan ng lahat ang kanyang kasalukuyang kalagayan [We know that the life of our family is part of the history of our nation. Our mother has decided to have a statement released so that everyone will understand her present condition],” it added.
- Inq7.net---
The news came as a shock yesterday because for some reasons, I felt that a part of me is moved by her children's gloomy announcement.
It's like having an epic heroine you see all the time on television, a Mon Mothma of modern times suddenly capitulating due to failing health. Others hail her as an icon of democracy. There is no doubt about that. Whenever I think of Tita Cory, not only do I see a mother, intervening for the good of the nation, I guess in the long course of things, she has become the best example of what an enlightened and modest leader should emulate.
It's still too early to tell what the future holds for her. But now that she is suffering. Now that her future remains uncertain. My only regret is that of all the times I've been free to join her non-violent crusades - in Makati, Greenhills or elsewhere, I chose to be a fence-sitter.
An apathetic big boy to the realities of the nation.
And as much as I would like to be optimistic about her health, there remain a possibility that her pro-active days are nearing over.
Monday, March 24, 2008
Bunny Interludes Twenty Five
The chasing ends here, for I have finally caught the bunny.
The long struggle is over. I have succeeded in my aim to get fit.
I went to the gym last night after my shift at work had ended. It was a spur of the moment decision I undertook after realizing that I've stopped working out for the past four days. Lately, my work out routine has been very erratic. Unlike during the first months of the year, where I followed my program as religiously as possible, I feel that my gym activities these days are simply done to maintain my well-guarded achievement.
After I changed to my work-out attire, I went to the weighting scale to check if there's any progress in my weight. What I was hoping for is that I gained some pounds in order for me to have something to trim down again. Honestly, I find this truly ironic because a year ago, I would check my weight hoping that I shed some pounds from my body. Now, I'm checking the scale to see whether I gained some pounds for being very complacent in my activities. Unfortunately, it wasn't the case. For the first time after I stepped out of college six years ago, I am back to what my frame was in those blissful heydays.
The scale registered that I am 160 lbs.
It means that from the time I seriously dreamed of getting fit to the time I checked my weight last night, I already lost around 50 lbs.
I owe a huge part of the success to my alarming eating habits, which I think is already killing me slowly. Since I arrive home late at night, nobody's up to prepare my dinner. Therefore, heavy meals are set during the afternoons - where I combine my breakfast and lunch before heading off to work. Dinners are always oatmeals, a meal which I used to eat at breakfast when I was still in the morning shift. After the great scare of February, I gradually changed my diet to accommodate more steamed vegetables than fried meat dishes. It proves to be a healthier alternative, but the diet denied me a source of protein and other nutrients which my body is in dire need of every time I go to the gym.
Since my work and school schedule had already limited my ability to go out and do other things, my trips to fast food restaurants had also been stifled. Except for munching a large order of French Fries occasionally, I can't remember the last time I had a full stomach after eating in Jollibee or Mcdonalds. Sugar intake has been limited to less than a teaspoon every day. Since i don't often drink carbonated or artificially flavored drinks lately, water has been my constant source of fluids since last January.
If you think about it. I'm doing the extreme. The irony however is that my body has already adopted to take such beating and it doesn't matter how much I deny myself now that my appetite don't find those things appealing anymore.
And in a more ironic twist of fate, I lately realized that the promises I said to myself when I was still dreaming to get fit are not the ones I would take importance now that my aims have been realized.
By now, I should be spending my free time going to boutiques and digging the latest fashion trends so I can finally overhaul my closet. Promise ko talaga dati, kapag pumayat ako bibilhin ko lahat ng damit na pinangarap kong masuot tuwing naliligaw ako sa mall. Na-aastigan saki ako sa mga power dressers eh. It's like you're looking up to them because they exude so much confidence in themselves.
But now the only problem that concerns me is how to acquire cheap but sturdy pants, now that I'm facing a wardrobe crisis because the slacks and pants that I'm wearing all the time had become too loose for me. Mukha tuloy akong shabby and haggard all the time.
By now, I should have reclaimed my spot on the dance floor. If I remember it precisely, the first time I realized that I needed to trim down happened during a night-out with Mami with the rest of the morning shift colleagues three years ago. I found myself dancing with a girl and I danced well. The problem however is that I have grown big that I cannot make the moves to impress the girl I was dancing.
I also have this fantasy of going to the ledge and dance in an arousing way like the half-naked hunky go-go boys do. Nothing really turns me on like when someone dances behind me only to rub his crotch against my butt. In my younger days (like younger than DN and Punked) I used to do exhibitions on the ledge. When an admirer begins to touch my body, I'd insist that he squeeze my crotch instead. That how naughty I was, and if given an opportunity, I wouldn't mind doing it again.
But now that I have the opportunity to do it again, age has gotten over me. Not only have I accepted that I mellowed down, even the thought of going to clubs alone compels me to rush going home. Truly, I have become domesticated.
Finally by now, I should be flirting with everyone who catches my fancy. The truth behind posting some sexy pictures in my g4m account before was that I wanted to be noticed. I wanted to increase my market value and become the guys I used to ogle in that website. There was even a time that I'd open my g4m before going to the gym just to remind myself that I wanted someone else's chest/torso/abs/shoulders to be mine someday. I tried to hide this vanity as much as possible. But the truth is, the more I get closer to my objective, the more I became narcissistic and ego-centric.
My last trip to Club Bath early this year revealed how horrible I could be once my physique gets into my head.
But now...
Now that I have the physique that I could stare for hours in a wall mirror (especially when I'm starved in the morning) I'm beginning to realize that what I'm staring at is just a mere body with a semi-developed chest and a flat tummy and nothing more. I know, nothing beats the pleasure of staring at a hunky man's body especially when he flexes his biceps, abs and firm chest in front of the mirror. (dami niyan sa gym ko!) Just last night, I caught this amboy guy changing clothes across from where my bench was. He was not fair or good looking at all, but to stare at his broad shoulders, flat torso and bulging chest had me a hard time putting on my sando. He was so rugged and brusko that I said to myself...
"I want to be like him."
However when you think deeper, it's not the body that really gets you attracted or stay interested in a person. Of course we put huge premium on what the physical package of a person is, but it is his depth of understanding of things, thoughts of life and your similarity in interest that really draws you closer to a person.
Ang sarap sana gamitin ng magandang katawan for hedonistic pursuits, but for some strange reasons, those things do not appeal to me anymore.
While I was doing my 165 lbs squats last night and groaning from pain, I was asking myself over and over what's left now that I have achieved my objective. I could have easily told the supportive trainers that I would like to stop working out because I don't have a need for it anymore.
I could spend my time doing the more ordinary things, like playing video games on my computer or drinking with my friends.
Is it because I still value my vanity? Or is it because I'm afraid to lose what I already have?
This would be the last of the Bunny Interludes entries for I now declare that I have finally caught the bunny.
But...
If I have to continue my gym activities; If I really have to push my limits and achieve that model-modelan body that never in my life I have dreamed of aiming, then I have to come up with deeper reasons to continue getting fit.
Would it be in the name of health? Too cheesy.
Would it be for market value? Too self-serving. Besides, I always considered myself a class-B hipon.
Then maybe its because it's already a lifestyle that I could not take out easily? Possible.
Looking at how many bunny dreamers out there tries to achieve perfection, could I consider myself a poster boy?
I don't know... Perhaps it would be too much of a grand illusion.
But one thing I know is that I was once a dreamer. A chubby guy who was pushed back all the time in a world where physique and looks matter above all else.
"Kasi naman yung isa diyan, ang taba-taba, hindi tuloy tayo magkasya sa sasakyan..."
"No chubbies please..."
"Ang laki laki mo, papayat ka nga!!
"Yang boobs mo parang daig mo pa ang sa babae sa laki."
"Kahit anong gawin mo, hindi na liliit yang tiyan mo Joms"
A sudden remembrance runs inside my head. It hurts you know. But without these criticisms, I won't find myself on the spot where I am today.
Looking at how long and struggling the journey has been.
It wasn't that bad, now that you see it at a hindsight.
---
- the end.
The long struggle is over. I have succeeded in my aim to get fit.
I went to the gym last night after my shift at work had ended. It was a spur of the moment decision I undertook after realizing that I've stopped working out for the past four days. Lately, my work out routine has been very erratic. Unlike during the first months of the year, where I followed my program as religiously as possible, I feel that my gym activities these days are simply done to maintain my well-guarded achievement.
After I changed to my work-out attire, I went to the weighting scale to check if there's any progress in my weight. What I was hoping for is that I gained some pounds in order for me to have something to trim down again. Honestly, I find this truly ironic because a year ago, I would check my weight hoping that I shed some pounds from my body. Now, I'm checking the scale to see whether I gained some pounds for being very complacent in my activities. Unfortunately, it wasn't the case. For the first time after I stepped out of college six years ago, I am back to what my frame was in those blissful heydays.
The scale registered that I am 160 lbs.
It means that from the time I seriously dreamed of getting fit to the time I checked my weight last night, I already lost around 50 lbs.
I owe a huge part of the success to my alarming eating habits, which I think is already killing me slowly. Since I arrive home late at night, nobody's up to prepare my dinner. Therefore, heavy meals are set during the afternoons - where I combine my breakfast and lunch before heading off to work. Dinners are always oatmeals, a meal which I used to eat at breakfast when I was still in the morning shift. After the great scare of February, I gradually changed my diet to accommodate more steamed vegetables than fried meat dishes. It proves to be a healthier alternative, but the diet denied me a source of protein and other nutrients which my body is in dire need of every time I go to the gym.
Since my work and school schedule had already limited my ability to go out and do other things, my trips to fast food restaurants had also been stifled. Except for munching a large order of French Fries occasionally, I can't remember the last time I had a full stomach after eating in Jollibee or Mcdonalds. Sugar intake has been limited to less than a teaspoon every day. Since i don't often drink carbonated or artificially flavored drinks lately, water has been my constant source of fluids since last January.
If you think about it. I'm doing the extreme. The irony however is that my body has already adopted to take such beating and it doesn't matter how much I deny myself now that my appetite don't find those things appealing anymore.
And in a more ironic twist of fate, I lately realized that the promises I said to myself when I was still dreaming to get fit are not the ones I would take importance now that my aims have been realized.
By now, I should be spending my free time going to boutiques and digging the latest fashion trends so I can finally overhaul my closet. Promise ko talaga dati, kapag pumayat ako bibilhin ko lahat ng damit na pinangarap kong masuot tuwing naliligaw ako sa mall. Na-aastigan saki ako sa mga power dressers eh. It's like you're looking up to them because they exude so much confidence in themselves.
But now the only problem that concerns me is how to acquire cheap but sturdy pants, now that I'm facing a wardrobe crisis because the slacks and pants that I'm wearing all the time had become too loose for me. Mukha tuloy akong shabby and haggard all the time.
By now, I should have reclaimed my spot on the dance floor. If I remember it precisely, the first time I realized that I needed to trim down happened during a night-out with Mami with the rest of the morning shift colleagues three years ago. I found myself dancing with a girl and I danced well. The problem however is that I have grown big that I cannot make the moves to impress the girl I was dancing.
I also have this fantasy of going to the ledge and dance in an arousing way like the half-naked hunky go-go boys do. Nothing really turns me on like when someone dances behind me only to rub his crotch against my butt. In my younger days (like younger than DN and Punked) I used to do exhibitions on the ledge. When an admirer begins to touch my body, I'd insist that he squeeze my crotch instead. That how naughty I was, and if given an opportunity, I wouldn't mind doing it again.
But now that I have the opportunity to do it again, age has gotten over me. Not only have I accepted that I mellowed down, even the thought of going to clubs alone compels me to rush going home. Truly, I have become domesticated.
Finally by now, I should be flirting with everyone who catches my fancy. The truth behind posting some sexy pictures in my g4m account before was that I wanted to be noticed. I wanted to increase my market value and become the guys I used to ogle in that website. There was even a time that I'd open my g4m before going to the gym just to remind myself that I wanted someone else's chest/torso/abs/shoulders to be mine someday. I tried to hide this vanity as much as possible. But the truth is, the more I get closer to my objective, the more I became narcissistic and ego-centric.
My last trip to Club Bath early this year revealed how horrible I could be once my physique gets into my head.
But now...
Now that I have the physique that I could stare for hours in a wall mirror (especially when I'm starved in the morning) I'm beginning to realize that what I'm staring at is just a mere body with a semi-developed chest and a flat tummy and nothing more. I know, nothing beats the pleasure of staring at a hunky man's body especially when he flexes his biceps, abs and firm chest in front of the mirror. (dami niyan sa gym ko!) Just last night, I caught this amboy guy changing clothes across from where my bench was. He was not fair or good looking at all, but to stare at his broad shoulders, flat torso and bulging chest had me a hard time putting on my sando. He was so rugged and brusko that I said to myself...
"I want to be like him."
However when you think deeper, it's not the body that really gets you attracted or stay interested in a person. Of course we put huge premium on what the physical package of a person is, but it is his depth of understanding of things, thoughts of life and your similarity in interest that really draws you closer to a person.
Ang sarap sana gamitin ng magandang katawan for hedonistic pursuits, but for some strange reasons, those things do not appeal to me anymore.
While I was doing my 165 lbs squats last night and groaning from pain, I was asking myself over and over what's left now that I have achieved my objective. I could have easily told the supportive trainers that I would like to stop working out because I don't have a need for it anymore.
I could spend my time doing the more ordinary things, like playing video games on my computer or drinking with my friends.
Is it because I still value my vanity? Or is it because I'm afraid to lose what I already have?
This would be the last of the Bunny Interludes entries for I now declare that I have finally caught the bunny.
But...
If I have to continue my gym activities; If I really have to push my limits and achieve that model-modelan body that never in my life I have dreamed of aiming, then I have to come up with deeper reasons to continue getting fit.
Would it be in the name of health? Too cheesy.
Would it be for market value? Too self-serving. Besides, I always considered myself a class-B hipon.
Then maybe its because it's already a lifestyle that I could not take out easily? Possible.
Looking at how many bunny dreamers out there tries to achieve perfection, could I consider myself a poster boy?
I don't know... Perhaps it would be too much of a grand illusion.
But one thing I know is that I was once a dreamer. A chubby guy who was pushed back all the time in a world where physique and looks matter above all else.
"Kasi naman yung isa diyan, ang taba-taba, hindi tuloy tayo magkasya sa sasakyan..."
"No chubbies please..."
"Ang laki laki mo, papayat ka nga!!
"Yang boobs mo parang daig mo pa ang sa babae sa laki."
"Kahit anong gawin mo, hindi na liliit yang tiyan mo Joms"
A sudden remembrance runs inside my head. It hurts you know. But without these criticisms, I won't find myself on the spot where I am today.
Looking at how long and struggling the journey has been.
It wasn't that bad, now that you see it at a hindsight.
---
- the end.
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Dark Night Tripping (Epilogue)
Sa taxi kanina, habang pauwi si Joms galing sa kanyang inuman.
---
Darkstar: Oye, sabihan mo Mugen si Joms na huwag ngumiti sa side mirror. Makita siya nung driver, mapagkamalan pa siyang abnoy. Kaw ren, kasalanan mo kapag sa Mental yan dinetso at hindi sa bahay.---
Pulsar: Yaan mo na, lasing na naman eh...
Mugen: As usual. Gaya last week, narito na naman tayong tatlo sa backseat ng taxi.
Darkstar: Honga eh, pero hindi gaya last week, medyo mas magaan na ang aura ng boylet natin ngayon. Bakit nga ba Pulsar?
Pulsar: Malay... siguro dahil lasing.
Mugen: Pwede.
Darkstar: Hindi kaya dahil natatanggap na niyang mas madali siyang makagimik pag night shift siya?
Mugen: Pwede rin!
Pulsar: Let's just say na wala na sa kanya yung burden na dala dala niya last week. He finally learned to keep them aside muna.
Mugen: Magdilang anghel ka sana Pulsar.
Pulsar: Kaya nga siya nagbloblog, para wala siyang kwentuhan ng mga issues niya diba?
Habang binabagtas ng Taxi ang kahabaan ng Bonny Serrano Avenue, kapansin pansin na walang sasakyan sa daanan.
Mugen: Ang linis ng kalsada. Sana laging ganito no?
Darkstar: Yeah... Sarap magsalsal pag ganitong mga panahon.
Pulsar & Mugen: Ish tat yuu Kitsune?
Mugen: Sabi mo eh. Anyway anong plano natin pagkatapos nito?
Pulsar: No change of plan. Gaya pa rin ng dati. What is important is that...
Darkstar: Masaya si Joms. There is no doubt he had a better night out. Kahit yung mga kainuman niya eh nanood ng Naruto samantalang yung dalawa naman sa dulo eh parang love birds na kwentuhan ng kwentuhan.
Mugen: Walang senti moments?
Darkstar: Wala. Just pure fun and nothing more. Let's make love mga parekoy!
Pulsar to Mugen: Lasing siguro kaya bangag. Dalawang bote lang yun infairness.
Darkstar: Dalawang bote nga, ang hapunan naman eh kakarampot na oatmeal. Nasira kaya workout schedule niya!!
Pulsar: He can always work out next time. Wala naman siyang aim na hinahabol eh.
Darkstar: Kaya nga okay lang eh. Basta pag umabot siya ng 165. Serious mode na naman tayo.
Mugen: Serious mode talaga.
Darkstar: So paano mga tsong. Sa susunod na sabado nights ulit.
Mugen: Sa susunod na sabado nights mga parekoy.
Pulsar: Well bukas, bagong pakikibaka ulit.
... : It seems that Joms... is learning to place everything on faith...
Darkstar: WTF sino yun.
Mugen: Ano yun??
Darkstar: May narinig akong boses. Bedroom voice pare, parang trip ko ka SOP!!
Mugen: Di ako yun ha. Tatlo lang tayo dito diba?
Pulsar: Wala akong narinig. Nakatingin ako sa labas eh. Paano, Happy Easter sa inyo mga dudes.
Darkstar: Sure kayo hindi kayo yun???
Mugen: Hindi ako yun.
Pulsar: Wala nga akong narinig, pasaway ka ah!
Darkstar: O siya, baka guni-guni ko lang. Sige mga tsong. Happy Easter senyo.
---
"Manong sa tabi na lang ng Besprend,*" Ang sabi ni Joms sa manong.
Matapos bumunot ng isangdaan at ilang mga barya sa kanyang walet. Humingi siya sa driver ng bente pesos na sukli. Bago siya lumabas ng taxi, naalala niyang espesyal na araw pala ngayon.
"Happy Easter manong."
Matapos bumunot ng isangdaan at ilang mga barya sa kanyang walet. Humingi siya sa driver ng bente pesos na sukli. Bago siya lumabas ng taxi, naalala niyang espesyal na araw pala ngayon.
"Happy Easter manong."
Ang hangin ngayong gabi ay higit na mas mainit kaysa noong isang linggo. Sa kabila nito, higit na mas maaliwalas ang pakiramdam ni Joms sa ganitong mga panahon. Bilog ang buwan sa langit at ang mga simbahan naman ay maagang nagbukas para sa Misa ng Pagkabuhay mamayang umaga.
Isang linggo na ang nakalipas simula ng muling mamulat si Joms sa hatinggabi. Nag-iba man ng tuluyan ang kanyang tingin dito, ngunit ang anyaya ng mga kaibigan ang laging nagpapaalala sa kanyang...
The scene may have changed, but the essence of friendship remains the same.
Tuloy ang nightlife.
The scene may have changed, but the essence of friendship remains the same.
Tuloy ang nightlife.
---
*Bestfriends - isang sikat na bilihan ng Tapsilog at Pares malapit sa lugar nina Joms.
Saturday, March 22, 2008
Brighter Than Sunshine
Sobrang babaw lang ng kaligayahan ko...
Sa sobrang babaw, ang mabalitaan na ang kapatid
ko sa trabaho ay nakumbinsi ng aming nanay-nanayan
na i-postpone ang kanyang pag-reresign ay sapat na
upang makapagpabuo ng araw ko.
Nice to have you back Princess!!
Looking forward to work with you soon.
---
- Sisters Of The Sun, June 10, 2007
Sa sobrang babaw, ang mabalitaan na ang kapatidko sa trabaho ay nakumbinsi ng aming nanay-nanayan
na i-postpone ang kanyang pag-reresign ay sapat na
upang makapagpabuo ng araw ko.
Nice to have you back Princess!!
Looking forward to work with you soon.
---
Soon, everything will be back to normal and I might be humming my way back home alone again. But despite such solitary possibilities, I guess I had already made a mark on Princess' life in many ways that I have never imagined before. Being in the same account at work, our alliance ensures that we would watch each other's back in case the other operators decide to gang-up on us. Since we have become uwian buddies, it may lead to countless night-outs and hang-outs only the two of us could only appreciate. Lastly, because our interests surprisingly complement one another, it may further encourage our creative abilities through each other's mutual support.
The possibilities of influencing each other's lives are actually endless.
And I'm glad that he decided to stay, at a time when lost is imminent to befall on me again.
The possibilities of influencing each other's lives are actually endless.
And I'm glad that he decided to stay, at a time when lost is imminent to befall on me again.
- Sisters Of The Sun, June 10, 2007
Friday, March 21, 2008
Good Friday Joyride
Seven in the evening.
After being stuck in traffic for one hour because of a holy procession, we finally found our way to the main road leading out of Navotas. Every time we visit my late dad's hometown, we get stuck in traffic on the way out.
The last time it happened was during last year's All Saint's Day. I was fuming mad at my mother for insisting that we should park our car near the memorial park, when I don't mind pushing her wheelchair on narrow, bumpy alleys just to avoid parking in places where people passed their way to the cemetery. I lost in our argument and as a result, it took us two hours to get out of that wretched town because we got stuck a mile away from where the people assemble before heading to the cemetery.
But things are different nowadays.
Instead of getting upset at our predicament, I told my mom to pray the rosary to pass the time. We could consider the little delay as our bonding session. However, when my mother started praying, I got nothing else to do. So I left the car to join the crowd watching the long and somber procession pass in front of us. After all, it was the Senor who is being paraded and that icon of Christ is the reason why we went to Navotas in the first place.
---
They say, holy relics can answer a faithful's most fervent prayer.
Somebody must have told mom about this relic they call Senor and that is the reason why we went all the way to Navotas to make a pilgrimage.
When we arrived at the Senor's chapel, his devotees have already carried him to his stainless steel karwahe for the procession later that afternoon. He was lying peacefully inside an encased glass. His carved wooden face and body was buried under bouquets of fresh flowers placed earlier by the faithful. Throngs of devotees waited around the wheeled altar for the slow march to begin. Since it was our first time to see Senor, we felt like outsiders to the people who gathered around him.
But it didn't stop us from sending our wishes and praying for those we cared.
It doesn't matter whether my prayers would be answered by Senor or not. I could pray anytime, if I'm in dire need of divine assistance. What is important is that I made my mom very happy by being her escort and bodyguard today.
Such opportunity comes rarely these days.
---
I was surfing the cable when I stumbled upon an interview in the Iglesia Ni Kristo channel last week.
The lady being interviewed appears to be a newly kaanib. She was talking about her conversion to INC and how it changed her life for the better. I do not see anything wrong about her testimony, except that in one part of the interview, she began to question the practice of the Roman Catholic Church of giving great importance to relics and believing in the interceding power of the saints.
"Dati-rati, Katoliko rin ako. Sumasama kaming buong pamilya sa mga prusisyon sa lugar namin at humahalik rin ako sa Santo Nino... Nalaman ko pala na bad yun at against sa teachings ng Bible. Tapos naging member rin ako ng isang evangelical movement, tapos sa Methodist rin napasama ako. Tapos naging Born Again rin ako panandalian... Pero sa Iglesia ni Kristo lang ako namulat sa tamang interpretation ng Bible..."
From what it appears, the lady being interviewed has been jumping from one Christian movement to another. What pains me is that her apparent reason for moving is her never ending quest of looking for the most relevant interpretation of the Bible, which she herself, I believe, doesn't understand at all.
Don't get me wrong. I do not wish to sow anger because of this interview. But I think that to mock other people's faith and practice and question them openly is an act of disrespect. Wars, hatred and suffering begin when intolerance finds its way to a person's heart. In the quest to find the real meaning of our existence, I believe that religious comparison is not important. What truly means to be faithful is that you know in yourself what you believe in and that you have the compassion to understand others on what faith means to them.
If I was there in the interview, I'd politely remind the elder lady that if she doesn't want her faith to be questioned, it would be better for her not to question other people's faith.
---
Speaking of faith.
He compared our existence to a tiny flea residing in a dog's fur. In his words, "the dog doesn't give a shit no matter what the flea does to the beast." I cannot deny that my spirit sinks every time he reminds us of what he believes in.
Do you know the reason why?
It is perhaps because I look up to him as a great person. Maybe it's because my faith and my self-proclaimed spirituality isn't that strong enough to stand up to his ideas. Perhaps it's because I do not know any person who strongly shares my beliefs. Maybe it's because I'm still struggling to find my path and that his atheism reminds me that my journey has a possibility to end in futility.
His belief sometimes forces me to question my direction.
Good thing, Gripen is around to speak of miracles whenever I begin to feel that my integrity is collapsing. He may not be aware of it, but during my early attempts to reestablish my faith, his stories of unexplained phenomena strengthens my resolve to follow directions that would make me closer to the divine.
---
And so Good Friday ends and I felt unusually nostalgic for things I never appreciated when I spent most of my waking hours during the day.
The first sign of nostalgia appeared when I never complained of the unbearable heat inside my room when I woke up this afternoon. In the first place, who am I to complain that it's terribly hot when I almost cursed myself for being alive during the coldest months of February?
The second sign of nostalgia appeared when I texted my blog friend Brian about how blissful it felt to be seated in the front passenger seat of your car, the rays of the late afternoon sun toasting your jeans while you look outside your half-open window envying the masa gentlemen while they make tambay naked in front of their barong-barong and looking for something better to do than idle around and wait for the nightly inuman to begin.
The third sign of nostalgia appeared after I texted Punked telling him that I could close my eyes and see myself basking under the sun in a secluded beach somewhere in Ilocos when in fact, the only body of water I could see with my two eyes is the stretch of Manila Bay along the shores of Navotas, the sun ray's glittering like gold amidst the clear blue sea.
Finally, I realized that I am suffering from a serious case of nostalgia on our way home after we got stuck in a procession. The entire stretch of C3 Road from Navotas to Dagat-Dagatan in Caloocan was unusually unlit for a Friday evening. I thought that maybe, since it's Good Friday and there were very few cars on the road, the local government could save money by leaving those main roads in the dark.
Despite the pitch black darkness, the tepid yellow full moon shone brightly above the eastern sky. The air was warm and humid. On the opposite side of the road, a procession was being held with flickering long candles and altar boys and pious old ladies leading the slow march around the neighborhood.
In the serenity of my surroundings, my memory pulled me back to a time when all those things I saw, or imagined were still accessible to me. I remember joining processions in our neighborhood when I was still a kid. I remember being seated in front of my dad's L300 delivery truck as it speeds its way in those same streets when we drive home my aunt at 3 in the morning. I remember the last great family outing in Batangas, where I wrote a four-part entry about how I followed the sun.
And I remember getting sunburned all the time after my shift at work ends in the afternoon. In those days, I am free to go whenever my feet wish me to be.
But now that I am stuck in a swirling, monotonous cycle of waking up, going to work, and then going home only to sleep through another day,
It sometimes makes me wonder, could there be a more meaningful life now that I feel trapped in my present existence?
After being stuck in traffic for one hour because of a holy procession, we finally found our way to the main road leading out of Navotas. Every time we visit my late dad's hometown, we get stuck in traffic on the way out.
The last time it happened was during last year's All Saint's Day. I was fuming mad at my mother for insisting that we should park our car near the memorial park, when I don't mind pushing her wheelchair on narrow, bumpy alleys just to avoid parking in places where people passed their way to the cemetery. I lost in our argument and as a result, it took us two hours to get out of that wretched town because we got stuck a mile away from where the people assemble before heading to the cemetery.
But things are different nowadays.
Instead of getting upset at our predicament, I told my mom to pray the rosary to pass the time. We could consider the little delay as our bonding session. However, when my mother started praying, I got nothing else to do. So I left the car to join the crowd watching the long and somber procession pass in front of us. After all, it was the Senor who is being paraded and that icon of Christ is the reason why we went to Navotas in the first place.
---
They say, holy relics can answer a faithful's most fervent prayer.
Somebody must have told mom about this relic they call Senor and that is the reason why we went all the way to Navotas to make a pilgrimage.
When we arrived at the Senor's chapel, his devotees have already carried him to his stainless steel karwahe for the procession later that afternoon. He was lying peacefully inside an encased glass. His carved wooden face and body was buried under bouquets of fresh flowers placed earlier by the faithful. Throngs of devotees waited around the wheeled altar for the slow march to begin. Since it was our first time to see Senor, we felt like outsiders to the people who gathered around him.
But it didn't stop us from sending our wishes and praying for those we cared.
It doesn't matter whether my prayers would be answered by Senor or not. I could pray anytime, if I'm in dire need of divine assistance. What is important is that I made my mom very happy by being her escort and bodyguard today.
Such opportunity comes rarely these days.
---
I was surfing the cable when I stumbled upon an interview in the Iglesia Ni Kristo channel last week.
The lady being interviewed appears to be a newly kaanib. She was talking about her conversion to INC and how it changed her life for the better. I do not see anything wrong about her testimony, except that in one part of the interview, she began to question the practice of the Roman Catholic Church of giving great importance to relics and believing in the interceding power of the saints.
"Dati-rati, Katoliko rin ako. Sumasama kaming buong pamilya sa mga prusisyon sa lugar namin at humahalik rin ako sa Santo Nino... Nalaman ko pala na bad yun at against sa teachings ng Bible. Tapos naging member rin ako ng isang evangelical movement, tapos sa Methodist rin napasama ako. Tapos naging Born Again rin ako panandalian... Pero sa Iglesia ni Kristo lang ako namulat sa tamang interpretation ng Bible..."
From what it appears, the lady being interviewed has been jumping from one Christian movement to another. What pains me is that her apparent reason for moving is her never ending quest of looking for the most relevant interpretation of the Bible, which she herself, I believe, doesn't understand at all.
Don't get me wrong. I do not wish to sow anger because of this interview. But I think that to mock other people's faith and practice and question them openly is an act of disrespect. Wars, hatred and suffering begin when intolerance finds its way to a person's heart. In the quest to find the real meaning of our existence, I believe that religious comparison is not important. What truly means to be faithful is that you know in yourself what you believe in and that you have the compassion to understand others on what faith means to them.
If I was there in the interview, I'd politely remind the elder lady that if she doesn't want her faith to be questioned, it would be better for her not to question other people's faith.
---
Speaking of faith.
The great Milflores admitted to class that he is an atheist for the longest period of time. He said that he doesn't believe in god and that the universe exist to be chaotic.
He compared our existence to a tiny flea residing in a dog's fur. In his words, "the dog doesn't give a shit no matter what the flea does to the beast." I cannot deny that my spirit sinks every time he reminds us of what he believes in.
Do you know the reason why?
It is perhaps because I look up to him as a great person. Maybe it's because my faith and my self-proclaimed spirituality isn't that strong enough to stand up to his ideas. Perhaps it's because I do not know any person who strongly shares my beliefs. Maybe it's because I'm still struggling to find my path and that his atheism reminds me that my journey has a possibility to end in futility.
His belief sometimes forces me to question my direction.
Good thing, Gripen is around to speak of miracles whenever I begin to feel that my integrity is collapsing. He may not be aware of it, but during my early attempts to reestablish my faith, his stories of unexplained phenomena strengthens my resolve to follow directions that would make me closer to the divine.
---
And so Good Friday ends and I felt unusually nostalgic for things I never appreciated when I spent most of my waking hours during the day.
The first sign of nostalgia appeared when I never complained of the unbearable heat inside my room when I woke up this afternoon. In the first place, who am I to complain that it's terribly hot when I almost cursed myself for being alive during the coldest months of February?
The second sign of nostalgia appeared when I texted my blog friend Brian about how blissful it felt to be seated in the front passenger seat of your car, the rays of the late afternoon sun toasting your jeans while you look outside your half-open window envying the masa gentlemen while they make tambay naked in front of their barong-barong and looking for something better to do than idle around and wait for the nightly inuman to begin.
The third sign of nostalgia appeared after I texted Punked telling him that I could close my eyes and see myself basking under the sun in a secluded beach somewhere in Ilocos when in fact, the only body of water I could see with my two eyes is the stretch of Manila Bay along the shores of Navotas, the sun ray's glittering like gold amidst the clear blue sea.
Finally, I realized that I am suffering from a serious case of nostalgia on our way home after we got stuck in a procession. The entire stretch of C3 Road from Navotas to Dagat-Dagatan in Caloocan was unusually unlit for a Friday evening. I thought that maybe, since it's Good Friday and there were very few cars on the road, the local government could save money by leaving those main roads in the dark.
Despite the pitch black darkness, the tepid yellow full moon shone brightly above the eastern sky. The air was warm and humid. On the opposite side of the road, a procession was being held with flickering long candles and altar boys and pious old ladies leading the slow march around the neighborhood.
In the serenity of my surroundings, my memory pulled me back to a time when all those things I saw, or imagined were still accessible to me. I remember joining processions in our neighborhood when I was still a kid. I remember being seated in front of my dad's L300 delivery truck as it speeds its way in those same streets when we drive home my aunt at 3 in the morning. I remember the last great family outing in Batangas, where I wrote a four-part entry about how I followed the sun.
And I remember getting sunburned all the time after my shift at work ends in the afternoon. In those days, I am free to go whenever my feet wish me to be.
But now that I am stuck in a swirling, monotonous cycle of waking up, going to work, and then going home only to sleep through another day,
It sometimes makes me wonder, could there be a more meaningful life now that I feel trapped in my present existence?
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Signs Of His Awakening (Episode II)
"Marunong ka ba magdasal?" The old lady asked me.
Her oily wrinkled hands run across my head as I slouch on a candy blue plastic stool at the center of the common alleyway which leads to her tiny apartment. In front of me is a white pan with coal stacked together and whose burning embers melt the Incense, Alum and Myhrr I bought from a nearby Sari-sari store. The heavy white smoke from the concoction swallows my being. It is as if my recovery depended on that burning white pan and its exotic contents.
"Opo, marunong akong magdasal." I told her.
"Sigurado ka ba hijo?" She repeated her question, as if sensing that my faith isn't that strong enough to believe in her powers.
"O sige basta manalig ka sa akin ha. Huwag mong kokontrahin ang dasal ko at hindi tatalab ang ginawa natin. Magtiwala ka sa Kanya. Malakas ang mga kalaban mo, pero gagaling ka."
Her soothing, assuring words warms me despite the bitter cold winds of mid-February. The lady who introduces her to me seats impatiently in a monoblock chair lent by the Mangtatawas' neighbor, her eyes asking for proof whether the old lady is able to heal me.
"Bago ka matulog, magdasal ka ng tatlong Ama Namin, tatlong Aba Ginoong Maria, at tatlong Luwalhati Sa Ama. Huwag mong kalilimutan iyan." Her commands remind me of my job as a Psychic Service agent. The only difference now is that I am the one to believe her, while she is the one to convince that her faith healing will work on me.
---
I went home that night wearing a white bandana on my head.
And inside the bandana were three slices of ginger and garlic. When my mother saw me looking like Mang Kepweng, the quack doctor who appeared in movies in the late seventies, I sense her reaction borders on faith and mockery. Imagine an info-age boy who believes in the boundless power of computers and technology submitting to the will of the Mangtatawas. That is something truly ironic.
But the true irony is, I felt better after her healing session.
And whether it is because of her faith or my faith, our encounter had changed me.
In the weeks after our lives first crossed, I became inward-looking.
I began praying on my own.
But the true irony is, I felt better after her healing session.
And whether it is because of her faith or my faith, our encounter had changed me.
In the weeks after our lives first crossed, I became inward-looking.
I began praying on my own.
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Ti-vo-li
A few workstation from mine seats a plumpy lady who just caught my attention lately.
I wrote an entry about this lady some months ago after her live-in boyfriend dumped her out of the house. She was then forced to stay with a girl friend for a few weeks who lives a few blocks away from where we work. As in, I felt pity for her. But since we're not close, I checked her situation from a distance. I asked our colleagues about her. Apparently, her issues with her live-in boyfriend got resolved a few weeks ago and they're living again together. Since work had become so petiks lately, I would see her playing online games whenever we don't have anything to do at work.
Now this lady, who I consider one of the most gorgeous in my shift confessed something that raised some eyebrows last week. In her words she said:
"Ay gusto ko yun, babae sa babae. Nasubukan ko na siya one time. Yung friend ko sobrang girl rin. Aliw nga eh. Ayoko dun sa mukhang lalaki. Mas maganda pa sa akin, mas okay."
She was talking to a colleague of ours who is a femme lesbian.
Now to give you an idea how this lady looks like, imagine an Ameriasian chick in her early twenties. She has long black-brown hair, a set of small brown eyes, her fair skin resembling a shiny porcelain and a pointy, high bridged nose which rivals those of P-man's. She's not skinny and obviously, her size would already give a hint that she's a proud mother of two kids. At times, I confess that I would love to get distracted by staring at her tear-drop shape boobies. However, being a PLU, I thought it was just mere remnants of my former straighthood.
I'm not sure if she's just joking or making a fuss at those around her. I never had suspicions that she might have a tendency to shift preferences. But if what she said was true, then I guess the lines between straights, bisexuals and non-straights have already been blurred.
From her recent confessions, it's almost like imagining Dennis Trillo making out with Jericho Rosales.
I wrote an entry about this lady some months ago after her live-in boyfriend dumped her out of the house. She was then forced to stay with a girl friend for a few weeks who lives a few blocks away from where we work. As in, I felt pity for her. But since we're not close, I checked her situation from a distance. I asked our colleagues about her. Apparently, her issues with her live-in boyfriend got resolved a few weeks ago and they're living again together. Since work had become so petiks lately, I would see her playing online games whenever we don't have anything to do at work.
Now this lady, who I consider one of the most gorgeous in my shift confessed something that raised some eyebrows last week. In her words she said:
"Ay gusto ko yun, babae sa babae. Nasubukan ko na siya one time. Yung friend ko sobrang girl rin. Aliw nga eh. Ayoko dun sa mukhang lalaki. Mas maganda pa sa akin, mas okay."
She was talking to a colleague of ours who is a femme lesbian.
Now to give you an idea how this lady looks like, imagine an Ameriasian chick in her early twenties. She has long black-brown hair, a set of small brown eyes, her fair skin resembling a shiny porcelain and a pointy, high bridged nose which rivals those of P-man's. She's not skinny and obviously, her size would already give a hint that she's a proud mother of two kids. At times, I confess that I would love to get distracted by staring at her tear-drop shape boobies. However, being a PLU, I thought it was just mere remnants of my former straighthood.
I'm not sure if she's just joking or making a fuss at those around her. I never had suspicions that she might have a tendency to shift preferences. But if what she said was true, then I guess the lines between straights, bisexuals and non-straights have already been blurred.
From her recent confessions, it's almost like imagining Dennis Trillo making out with Jericho Rosales.
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Once There Was An Expedition - Hope For The Gutterflower
After A. Hidalgo
---
And I call him the great Milflores.
There is no doubt that such nickname would raise some eyebrows from my classmates. But surely, they would all agree that he is great - no matter how his teaching methods seem brutal and cold-blooded in many ways.
He is our teacher in one of the subjects I took up in the Master's Program this semester. It is a special subject addressing the problems of writers in reaching out to their target audience. The great Milflores thought that the problem lies with the writer's lack of grasp of the history of the nation and so for the most part of our course, he discussed in class the underlying literary theories that should serve as a guide for us to understand our readers.
The great Milflores tried to awaken the burning nationalism in each one of us. In my case he successfully did.
But my problem was never my national consciousness in the first place. He even said that among his students, I was the most accommodating when it came to embracing his concepts. My problem is with my writing. He said that what I lack is the mastery of the language and also the literary register to serve as the foundation of my works.
When my time to be critiqued in class drew near, I felt his eagerness to crush whatever faith I still have with my writing. A previous workshop before, a classmate submitted a fiction which received some scathing remarks, not only from class but from the great Milflores himself. She was asked to drop out of class that same evening for reasons everyone found too harsh for him to do. He said that her writing was so terrible, she shouldn't have been admitted to the program in the first place.
What saved me was my Filipino essay, which he said was far more tolerable than the English ones I submitted to class. He even suggested that I should transfer to the Filipino Department instead since my talents would prove more useful to them than in the department I am right now.
I told the great Milflores that I would seriously think of his suggestion. After all, I am not merely receiving a suggestion from a teacher, I am also receiving a suggestion from the publisher of so many successful books who has years of experience being a grammar police of a broadsheet, a Palanca winner for several consecutive years and a column writer for several newspapers. He has all the right to stomp me to the ground as he wish, for I accept all the failings he pointed out to me.
Nevertheless, after getting a bone-crushing advice from him, the great Milflores in the end said I still have hope.
In six months, 24 weeks and 47 days, I stood my ground by humbly accepting my hierarchy in the class. the great Milflores seems to have judged me according to the strength of my essays. But so long as I have my Filipino Essay to prove that I'm not as a bad writer as I thought I am, I listened to what he would teach us and smile at others who were having a hard time coping up while their egos were being crushed by him.
In fairness to his draconian methods, I learned so many things from the great Milflores that my other teachers did not emphasized to me. One of them is Post-Colonialism and the Theory of Hybridity, which state that writers like me should expand our horizons and write as many subjects as we want. That is, so long as we would always keep ourselves rooted to the "point of anti-colonial rupture" as our reference. He also made me proud of my roots by encouraging me to write in the language I am most comfortable using which is Filipino. Finally, he taught us to be honest when it comes to writing. The truth behind my classmate's expulsion in class was revealed this evening after he told us that though some of us maybe lacking in skills, he honestly felt that we were true to our work - except that one person he asked to drop out of his subject.
---
Today was our final meeting in his class.
And after weeks of speculating whether I would be able to finish his subject after all the troubles of the world had suddenly crushed me, Mami Athena's timely intervention this morning had saved my essays from utter shame. The truth is, I owe her my existence in the Master's Program because she is the one who tirelessly correct my works when my own familiarity with the language begins to fail me. Many times I wondered whether she should be the one to take my place in the academe. But at some point in my own little internal awakening, I realized that there must be a reason why I am in the Masters. Perhaps, I carry not only my dreams but her dreams as well. Maybe in some future, I would become the Athena, Mami should have always been.
With just one more paper to go, I would be cleared of my responsibilities for this semester. A semester more next year and I'm ready to take the final plunge, where I would start working for my MA Thesis. A few years ago, I would think that the thesis is the end of my project. But the great Milflores changed my way of thinking.
Looking back, I would remember him seated at his armchair that his wife used to occupy. His stiff figure, bald hair and silver-rimmed eyeglasses reflect the firmness of his personality. He would look at his paper before delivering his speech in class, while those of us who are present would gape at his every last word. With our jaws wide open, he would end his discussion by saying "Frantz Fanon said..."
The yellow brick road leading to perfection is now open. It may take years or even forever to further improve my language. But I swear, time would come when images would come alive by merely using words I would paint inside my head.
---
And I call him the great Milflores.There is no doubt that such nickname would raise some eyebrows from my classmates. But surely, they would all agree that he is great - no matter how his teaching methods seem brutal and cold-blooded in many ways.
He is our teacher in one of the subjects I took up in the Master's Program this semester. It is a special subject addressing the problems of writers in reaching out to their target audience. The great Milflores thought that the problem lies with the writer's lack of grasp of the history of the nation and so for the most part of our course, he discussed in class the underlying literary theories that should serve as a guide for us to understand our readers.
The great Milflores tried to awaken the burning nationalism in each one of us. In my case he successfully did.
But my problem was never my national consciousness in the first place. He even said that among his students, I was the most accommodating when it came to embracing his concepts. My problem is with my writing. He said that what I lack is the mastery of the language and also the literary register to serve as the foundation of my works.
When my time to be critiqued in class drew near, I felt his eagerness to crush whatever faith I still have with my writing. A previous workshop before, a classmate submitted a fiction which received some scathing remarks, not only from class but from the great Milflores himself. She was asked to drop out of class that same evening for reasons everyone found too harsh for him to do. He said that her writing was so terrible, she shouldn't have been admitted to the program in the first place.
What saved me was my Filipino essay, which he said was far more tolerable than the English ones I submitted to class. He even suggested that I should transfer to the Filipino Department instead since my talents would prove more useful to them than in the department I am right now.
I told the great Milflores that I would seriously think of his suggestion. After all, I am not merely receiving a suggestion from a teacher, I am also receiving a suggestion from the publisher of so many successful books who has years of experience being a grammar police of a broadsheet, a Palanca winner for several consecutive years and a column writer for several newspapers. He has all the right to stomp me to the ground as he wish, for I accept all the failings he pointed out to me.
Nevertheless, after getting a bone-crushing advice from him, the great Milflores in the end said I still have hope.
In six months, 24 weeks and 47 days, I stood my ground by humbly accepting my hierarchy in the class. the great Milflores seems to have judged me according to the strength of my essays. But so long as I have my Filipino Essay to prove that I'm not as a bad writer as I thought I am, I listened to what he would teach us and smile at others who were having a hard time coping up while their egos were being crushed by him.
In fairness to his draconian methods, I learned so many things from the great Milflores that my other teachers did not emphasized to me. One of them is Post-Colonialism and the Theory of Hybridity, which state that writers like me should expand our horizons and write as many subjects as we want. That is, so long as we would always keep ourselves rooted to the "point of anti-colonial rupture" as our reference. He also made me proud of my roots by encouraging me to write in the language I am most comfortable using which is Filipino. Finally, he taught us to be honest when it comes to writing. The truth behind my classmate's expulsion in class was revealed this evening after he told us that though some of us maybe lacking in skills, he honestly felt that we were true to our work - except that one person he asked to drop out of his subject.
---
Today was our final meeting in his class.
And after weeks of speculating whether I would be able to finish his subject after all the troubles of the world had suddenly crushed me, Mami Athena's timely intervention this morning had saved my essays from utter shame. The truth is, I owe her my existence in the Master's Program because she is the one who tirelessly correct my works when my own familiarity with the language begins to fail me. Many times I wondered whether she should be the one to take my place in the academe. But at some point in my own little internal awakening, I realized that there must be a reason why I am in the Masters. Perhaps, I carry not only my dreams but her dreams as well. Maybe in some future, I would become the Athena, Mami should have always been.
With just one more paper to go, I would be cleared of my responsibilities for this semester. A semester more next year and I'm ready to take the final plunge, where I would start working for my MA Thesis. A few years ago, I would think that the thesis is the end of my project. But the great Milflores changed my way of thinking.
Looking back, I would remember him seated at his armchair that his wife used to occupy. His stiff figure, bald hair and silver-rimmed eyeglasses reflect the firmness of his personality. He would look at his paper before delivering his speech in class, while those of us who are present would gape at his every last word. With our jaws wide open, he would end his discussion by saying "Frantz Fanon said..."
The yellow brick road leading to perfection is now open. It may take years or even forever to further improve my language. But I swear, time would come when images would come alive by merely using words I would paint inside my head.
Monday, March 17, 2008
Once There Was An Expedition - Tongue Twisting Bilingual
Ayoko sanang isipin
na matapos kong pag-aralan
ang wikang Ingles ng napakahabang
panahon ay lilitaw lamang na
higit na mas magaling akong magsulat
sa Filipino.
Ngunit sa aking nakikita, mukhang
tama nga ang sabi ng aking propesor
na manlilimbag ng libro.
Tunay na napakalaki ng sablay ko
sa wikang Ingles pero napahanga siya
sa aking galing sa paggamit ng Filipino.
---
And it sometimes makes me wonder.
Would I shine brighter if I have taken
Filipino, instead of forcing myself in
the English Creative Writing program?
But it's too late now.
With only a remaining semester to go
before my Master's Thesis, all I could do
is accept whatever my shortcomings are,
While hoping that I could catch up
on the race to become a better English Writer
before I find myself just a single dash away
from the program's finish line.
na matapos kong pag-aralan
ang wikang Ingles ng napakahabang
panahon ay lilitaw lamang na
higit na mas magaling akong magsulat
sa Filipino.
Ngunit sa aking nakikita, mukhang
tama nga ang sabi ng aking propesor
na manlilimbag ng libro.
Tunay na napakalaki ng sablay ko
sa wikang Ingles pero napahanga siya
sa aking galing sa paggamit ng Filipino.
---
And it sometimes makes me wonder.
Would I shine brighter if I have taken
Filipino, instead of forcing myself in
the English Creative Writing program?
But it's too late now.
With only a remaining semester to go
before my Master's Thesis, all I could do
is accept whatever my shortcomings are,
While hoping that I could catch up
on the race to become a better English Writer
before I find myself just a single dash away
from the program's finish line.
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Dark Night Tripping
Sa taxi, kaninang madaling araw habang pauwi si Joms galing sa kanyang inuman.
---
Mugen: Kulit rin nitong si Joms no?
Pulsar: Honga eh. Weirdo talaga.
Mugen: Nagtaxi nga pauwi pero wag ka, pinapatay na ang aircon, nagpabukas pa ng bintana ng taxi. Para namang ang lamig-lamig ng paligid. Sobrang init na kaya!
Pulsar: Ganun talaga, pagbigyan mo na. Nagfreak-out na naman siguro.
Mugen: Bakit?
Pulsar: Naninibago sa kanyang paligid. Ang nakakatuwa pa roon, gabi naman siya kung umuwi galing sa trabaho pero naninibago siya kasi sa halip na galing sa gym, galing siya sa inuman kagabi.
---
Mugen: Kulit rin nitong si Joms no?
Pulsar: Honga eh. Weirdo talaga.
Mugen: Nagtaxi nga pauwi pero wag ka, pinapatay na ang aircon, nagpabukas pa ng bintana ng taxi. Para namang ang lamig-lamig ng paligid. Sobrang init na kaya!
Pulsar: Ganun talaga, pagbigyan mo na. Nagfreak-out na naman siguro.
Mugen: Bakit?
Pulsar: Naninibago sa kanyang paligid. Ang nakakatuwa pa roon, gabi naman siya kung umuwi galing sa trabaho pero naninibago siya kasi sa halip na galing sa gym, galing siya sa inuman kagabi.
Mugen: Anong bago dun? Diba lasenggero naman talaga siya kahit noon pa?
Pulsar: Malaki bro. Ang Joms natin noon ay hindi na ang Joms natin ngayon.
Darkstar: Por que?
Pulsar: Malaki bro. Ang Joms natin noon ay hindi na ang Joms natin ngayon.
Darkstar: Por que?
Pulsar: Uy nanjan ka pala kaibigang Darkstar. Tatlo pala tayo dito sa likuran ng taxi. Anyway, hindi niyo ba napapansin, tuluyan na siyang nag lie-low sa lahat ng night activities niya?
Mugen: Bakit nga?
Pulsar: Malay. Basta ang alam ko, nagsasawa na siya.
Darkstar: Bakit nga, sagutin mo kami.
Pulsar: Alam ko ang tunay na sagot, pero sa akin na lang yun. Sabihin na lang natin na ngayong bahagi na siya ng gabi, nais naman niyang bumalik sa liwanag.
Darkstar: Labo mo talaga brad.
Mugen: Pansin ko tahimik ka ngayon Darkstar?
Darkstar: Hindi ako kailangan ni Joms eh, anong magiging silbi ko?
Mugen: Role model para sa mga malilibog na bata? Ha ha.
Darkstar: Gagu!
Pulsar: Nasaan na pala yung alaga mong si Kitsune?
Darkstar: Matagal ng wala. Ang hirap i-control nun. Kahit ako eh tinatabla. Napagkasunduan namin ni Joms na ibalik na siya sa kanyang pinanggalingan.
Mugen: Sa CB?
Darkstar: Yep, isinusumpa ko, ayaw ko na siyang makasama.
Pulsar: Sabi mo eh.
Habang binabagtas ng taxi ang kahabaan ng Shaw Boulevard, may mangilan-ngilang mga motorbike ang nag-cut sa right of way ng kanyang sinasakyang taxi.
Mugen: Iba na talaga ang mga bata ngayon no? Lakas ng loob, walang helmet bike pa rin ng bike.
Darkstar: Kaya naman kapag natepok, luwa pati utak.
Pulsar: Morbid mo pare! Tandaan mo, may isang panahon ring ganyan si Joms.
Mugen: Yun ba yung nagkaroon siya ng scooter noong third year high school siya?
Pulsar: Yep, pero gaya ng mga bata ngayon, mapusok rin si Joms noon. Lakas ng loob niya magbike kahit wala siyang lisensya at yung scooter na bigay ng dad niya eh smuggled galing Ilocos.
Darkstar: That's my boy. Minsan iniisip ko saan nanggaling ang tigas niya noon.
Mugen: Kanino pa edi sayo. Buti na lang at hindi siya buminggo no?
Pulsar: Anong hindi buminggo. Nahuli kaya siya ng Hagad! Tapos muntikan na siyang makulong kung hindi nakiusap yung kapitbahay nila at sinabing anak siya ng isang reporter. Malupit dun, hindi pa nadala itong si Joms.
Mugen: Eh ano itong nakapagpatigil sa kanya mag-scooter?
Pulsar: Hindi mo matandaan. Namatay yung bodyguard ng erpats niya kasi binangga ng L300 yung motorbike na sinasakyan nito tapos tumilapon siya sa isa pang sasakyan? Hayun patay.
Mugen: Honga no? I remember it now. Mula noon hindi na siya nagscooter ulit.
Pulsar: At yung scooter niya ay kinalawang na lang sa tapat ng bahay nila.
Darkstar: Sayang... ang scooter.
Pulsar: Natatandaan niyo ba noong natuto siyang magdrive dahil lamang sa isang arcade game sa Megamall? Lupit niya rin noon ah!
Mugen: Oo naman. Binigyan pa nga siya ng kotse ng dad niya. Yung bulok na Izuzu Gemini. Ha ha.
Pulsar: Pero huwag ka. Bago siya nagkaroon ng kotse noon, Isang taon rin niyang tinatakas yung FX nila tuwing madaling araw. Wala rin siya lisensya noong magdrive siya noon.
Darkstar: Ha ha. Pangarap nga niyang iakyat yung FX nila sa Antipolo noon, dun sa overlooking daw. Balak niyang isama yung tropa niyang madalas makitulog sa kanila. Senti nights sila magdamag habang pinagmamasdan ang kumukuti-kutitap na mga ilaw ng Metro Manila. Musta naman yun!
Mugen: At kilala ko kung sino ang binatang iyon. Sobrang gwaping kasi eh.
Pulsar: Ako rin naman eh. Kilala ko siya.
Darkstar: Kung alam ko lang na magiging PLU si Joms balang araw, dapat tinabla na namin siya noong madalas siyang mag-sleep over sa kwarto niya. Willing naman yata ang tropa niya eh.
Pulsar: Pero you know that it's not our way. Ikaw na rin ang nagsabi, let them make the first move.
Darkstar: Kaya nga wala akong pakielam noon eh. Straight pa si Joms nun. He he.
Mugen: Pero bakit natigil magdrive si Joms? Bakit hindi na siya humawak ulit ng manibela?
Pulsar: Naalala mo, nilalabas niya yung Gemini isang gabi, tapos natabig niya yung FX ng kapitbahay nila? Laki ng binayaran ng dad niya dahil dun sa maliit na yupi ha!
Mugen: Honga no? Haha. Takot niya talaga noon no? Paano wala kasing lisensya nagdri-drive ng sasakyan.
Pulsar: Tapos sinabon siya ng nanay niya ng todo todo. Sinabihan pa siyang arogante at mayabang. Hayun simula noon, hindi na siya nagdrive.
Darkstar: Sayang, pangarap pa naman niya makakita ng drag racing noon sa C5.
Mugen: Iba talaga ang nagagawa ng gabi kay Joms no? To think times have changed.
Darkstar: Malay natin, ito'y pansamantala lamang.
Pulsar: Ewan ko. Pero mas kuntento na ako sa ganito. Tumatanda na tayo eh.
Mugen: Ramdam mo na ba Pulsar?
Darkstar: Aga pa ng gabi. Bakit naman nag-aastang kwarenta si Joms?
Mugen: Naghahabol sa oras? Nagpapaka-hermit?
Pulsar: Nagpapakaspirituwal? Sabi niya he's looking for something sublime.
Darkstar: Nosebleed! Arte lang yun.
Pulsar: Hindi nga, nararamdaman ko na iba na ngayon.
Pulsar: Habang pinagmamasdan niya ang opposite lane ng kalsada na puro taxi lang at mangilan-ngilang jeep ang pumapasada...
Pulsar: At ang mga japorms na mga bata naman ay papunta pa lang sa kanilang party ala una ng madaling araw...
Pulsar: At ang mga binatilyong nagbibike ng walang helmet na nakikipagpustahan kay Kamatayan...
Pulsar: Alam niyang kelangan na niya mag-move on.
Darkstar: Drama naman.
Mugen: Naks ang senti ah!
Pulsar: Tingnan natin. Maaga pa ang taon. Pero matagal ko nang alam na hindi na siya ganoon ka thrilled mag night-out... hindi gaya dati.
Darkstar: Talaga lang ha. Hayaan mo sa next reincarnation ko, top na si Joms! Ha ha.
---
Ngunit bago pa may nakahirit kay Darkstar, biglang nagsalita si Joms upang nagbigay direksyon sa taxi driver.
"Manong sa kaliwa po... Para na ho diyan sa tabi..."
Matapos ang mahigit isang buwang hibernation. Si Joms ay umuwing may tama ng alak galing sa kanyang inuman.
Pero ang tingin niya sa gabi ay lubos na nag- iba na. Hindi gaya ng mga magdamag na minsang nakapiling niya sa kanyang kabataan.
Pulsar: Malay. Basta ang alam ko, nagsasawa na siya.
Darkstar: Bakit nga, sagutin mo kami.
Pulsar: Alam ko ang tunay na sagot, pero sa akin na lang yun. Sabihin na lang natin na ngayong bahagi na siya ng gabi, nais naman niyang bumalik sa liwanag.
Darkstar: Labo mo talaga brad.
Mugen: Pansin ko tahimik ka ngayon Darkstar?
Darkstar: Hindi ako kailangan ni Joms eh, anong magiging silbi ko?
Mugen: Role model para sa mga malilibog na bata? Ha ha.
Darkstar: Gagu!
Pulsar: Nasaan na pala yung alaga mong si Kitsune?
Darkstar: Matagal ng wala. Ang hirap i-control nun. Kahit ako eh tinatabla. Napagkasunduan namin ni Joms na ibalik na siya sa kanyang pinanggalingan.
Mugen: Sa CB?
Darkstar: Yep, isinusumpa ko, ayaw ko na siyang makasama.
Pulsar: Sabi mo eh.
Habang binabagtas ng taxi ang kahabaan ng Shaw Boulevard, may mangilan-ngilang mga motorbike ang nag-cut sa right of way ng kanyang sinasakyang taxi.
Mugen: Iba na talaga ang mga bata ngayon no? Lakas ng loob, walang helmet bike pa rin ng bike.
Darkstar: Kaya naman kapag natepok, luwa pati utak.
Pulsar: Morbid mo pare! Tandaan mo, may isang panahon ring ganyan si Joms.
Mugen: Yun ba yung nagkaroon siya ng scooter noong third year high school siya?
Pulsar: Yep, pero gaya ng mga bata ngayon, mapusok rin si Joms noon. Lakas ng loob niya magbike kahit wala siyang lisensya at yung scooter na bigay ng dad niya eh smuggled galing Ilocos.
Darkstar: That's my boy. Minsan iniisip ko saan nanggaling ang tigas niya noon.
Mugen: Kanino pa edi sayo. Buti na lang at hindi siya buminggo no?
Pulsar: Anong hindi buminggo. Nahuli kaya siya ng Hagad! Tapos muntikan na siyang makulong kung hindi nakiusap yung kapitbahay nila at sinabing anak siya ng isang reporter. Malupit dun, hindi pa nadala itong si Joms.
Mugen: Eh ano itong nakapagpatigil sa kanya mag-scooter?
Pulsar: Hindi mo matandaan. Namatay yung bodyguard ng erpats niya kasi binangga ng L300 yung motorbike na sinasakyan nito tapos tumilapon siya sa isa pang sasakyan? Hayun patay.
Mugen: Honga no? I remember it now. Mula noon hindi na siya nagscooter ulit.
Pulsar: At yung scooter niya ay kinalawang na lang sa tapat ng bahay nila.
Darkstar: Sayang... ang scooter.
Pulsar: Natatandaan niyo ba noong natuto siyang magdrive dahil lamang sa isang arcade game sa Megamall? Lupit niya rin noon ah!
Mugen: Oo naman. Binigyan pa nga siya ng kotse ng dad niya. Yung bulok na Izuzu Gemini. Ha ha.
Pulsar: Pero huwag ka. Bago siya nagkaroon ng kotse noon, Isang taon rin niyang tinatakas yung FX nila tuwing madaling araw. Wala rin siya lisensya noong magdrive siya noon.
Darkstar: Ha ha. Pangarap nga niyang iakyat yung FX nila sa Antipolo noon, dun sa overlooking daw. Balak niyang isama yung tropa niyang madalas makitulog sa kanila. Senti nights sila magdamag habang pinagmamasdan ang kumukuti-kutitap na mga ilaw ng Metro Manila. Musta naman yun!
Mugen: At kilala ko kung sino ang binatang iyon. Sobrang gwaping kasi eh.
Pulsar: Ako rin naman eh. Kilala ko siya.
Darkstar: Kung alam ko lang na magiging PLU si Joms balang araw, dapat tinabla na namin siya noong madalas siyang mag-sleep over sa kwarto niya. Willing naman yata ang tropa niya eh.
Pulsar: Pero you know that it's not our way. Ikaw na rin ang nagsabi, let them make the first move.
Darkstar: Kaya nga wala akong pakielam noon eh. Straight pa si Joms nun. He he.
Mugen: Pero bakit natigil magdrive si Joms? Bakit hindi na siya humawak ulit ng manibela?
Pulsar: Naalala mo, nilalabas niya yung Gemini isang gabi, tapos natabig niya yung FX ng kapitbahay nila? Laki ng binayaran ng dad niya dahil dun sa maliit na yupi ha!
Mugen: Honga no? Haha. Takot niya talaga noon no? Paano wala kasing lisensya nagdri-drive ng sasakyan.
Pulsar: Tapos sinabon siya ng nanay niya ng todo todo. Sinabihan pa siyang arogante at mayabang. Hayun simula noon, hindi na siya nagdrive.
Darkstar: Sayang, pangarap pa naman niya makakita ng drag racing noon sa C5.
Mugen: Iba talaga ang nagagawa ng gabi kay Joms no? To think times have changed.
Darkstar: Malay natin, ito'y pansamantala lamang.
Pulsar: Ewan ko. Pero mas kuntento na ako sa ganito. Tumatanda na tayo eh.
Mugen: Ramdam mo na ba Pulsar?
Darkstar: Aga pa ng gabi. Bakit naman nag-aastang kwarenta si Joms?
Mugen: Naghahabol sa oras? Nagpapaka-hermit?
Pulsar: Nagpapakaspirituwal? Sabi niya he's looking for something sublime.
Darkstar: Nosebleed! Arte lang yun.
Pulsar: Hindi nga, nararamdaman ko na iba na ngayon.
Pulsar: Habang pinagmamasdan niya ang opposite lane ng kalsada na puro taxi lang at mangilan-ngilang jeep ang pumapasada...
Pulsar: At ang mga japorms na mga bata naman ay papunta pa lang sa kanilang party ala una ng madaling araw...
Pulsar: At ang mga binatilyong nagbibike ng walang helmet na nakikipagpustahan kay Kamatayan...
Pulsar: Alam niyang kelangan na niya mag-move on.
Darkstar: Drama naman.
Mugen: Naks ang senti ah!
Pulsar: Tingnan natin. Maaga pa ang taon. Pero matagal ko nang alam na hindi na siya ganoon ka thrilled mag night-out... hindi gaya dati.
Darkstar: Talaga lang ha. Hayaan mo sa next reincarnation ko, top na si Joms! Ha ha.
---
Ngunit bago pa may nakahirit kay Darkstar, biglang nagsalita si Joms upang nagbigay direksyon sa taxi driver.
"Manong sa kaliwa po... Para na ho diyan sa tabi..."
Matapos ang mahigit isang buwang hibernation. Si Joms ay umuwing may tama ng alak galing sa kanyang inuman.
Pero ang tingin niya sa gabi ay lubos na nag- iba na. Hindi gaya ng mga magdamag na minsang nakapiling niya sa kanyang kabataan.
Friday, March 14, 2008
Borderline | Hibernation
Kapag naglakad ka sa ilalim ng Carriedo LRT Station noong araw ay may mapapansin kang isang grupo ng mga kalalakihan na animo'y mga callboy na nakatayo sa tapat ng Uniwide Mall.
Madali mo silang makikita sapagkat bukod sa karamihan sa kanila ay mga bata pa, laging may malaking karton na kadalasan ay sigarilyo ang nasa tabi nila. Kung iyong titingnang mabuti, may nakasulat na malaking titik X sa kanilang karton. Halatang pentel pen ang ginamit na panulat dito sapagkat hindi lamang laging kulay itim ang pinansulat na tinta sa karton, minsan ay malabo pa ito dahil ang Pentel Pen ay pinagpasa-pasahan na ng mga tindero.
Dahil sa lagi silang nababagansya ng mga pulis sa lugar na iyon, nasanay na silang hindi mamansin ng mga dumaraang tao. Sa halip, hinahayaan nilang ang mga kalalakihan ang siyang lumapit upang magtanong ng kanilang paninda.
Minsan, dahil sa aking curiousity ay sinubukan ko ring lumapit sa mga tinderong iyon. Noong una'y kabado pa ako sapagkat nararamdaman kong magkakakuntsaba ang mga kalalakihang nagtitinda sa bahaging iyon. Nalaman ko na ang kanila palang binebenta ay mga X-Rated na VCD. Sa aking kalibugan ay napabili rin ako, hindi lang isang beses sa mga tinderong ito.
Isang hapon, tanda ko pa, galing ako sa OJT ko noon sa Manila Times. Mag-isa kong binabagtas ang kahabaan ng Rizal Avenue nang mapadako ako sa lugar na kinatatayuan nila. Para silang mga punong kawayan na gagalaw-galaw sa kanilang kinatatayuan. Ang iba ay nagyoyosi habang nakatulala, samantalang ang iba naman ay lalakad-lakad upang ang binti ay hindi pulikatin.
Gaya ng nakagawian, magtititigan kami ng suki kong tindero bago ko siya bigyang hudyat na lumapit sa akin. Ngunit noong hapong iyon ay wala roon ang suki ko. Sa halip, iba ang lumapit sa akin at ang kanyang mga binebenta ang siyang nagpabago ng takbo ng mundo ko.
"Boss X," pabulong niya sa akin. Dahil sa ako naman ay kating-kati na magjakol pagdating sa bahay, nagbigay hudyat akong mag-usap kami tungkol sa bentahan.
Gaya nga ng sabi ko, uso ang hulihan sa lugar na iyon. Bago pa lang kasi ang bentahan ng mga X-Rated at hindi ko pa nadidiskubre noon ang eskinita sa Hidalgo kung saan lantarang nakasabit sa dingding ang mga binebentang Porn VCD sa lugar na iyon. Ilang buwan pa ang lumipas bago ko nadiskubre ang eskinitang iyon na matatagpuan sa loob ng palengke.
Naglakad kami papasok sa isang makitid na eskinita papalayo ng Rizal Avenue. Akala ko ay tatagusin pa namin ang kalyeng kahilera ng nasabing kalsada, ngunit bago pa kami makalabas ng eskinita ay huminto kami sa isang gawaan ng mga Name Pins kung saan niya ipinapatago ang kanyang tindang mga epektos.
Sa totoo, noong mga araw na iyon ay parang bentahan ng droga ang pinapasok ko. Isipin mo na lang, habang nilalabas niya ang kanyang backpack na puno ng mga X-Rated na VCD ay titingin pa siya sa kaliwa at sa kanan sa pag-aalalang baka buminggo siya sa mga pulis na umoorbit sa lugar na iyon. Gaya ng sa aking suki, puro M2F ang una niyang nilalako sa akin. Habang namimili ako ng mga pamagat, pinagmamasdan ko muna kung gaano kabata at kakisig ang bidang lalaki, at kung gaano kalaki ang kanyang kargada.
Aaminin ko, hindi kailanman ako naging interesado sa mukha babae kahit na pilit kong tinatanong sa sarili ko, bakit ganon ang takbo ng utak ko. Basta ang sa akin, tinitigasan ako habang sarap na sarap sa pagkadyot ang bidang lalaki, samantalang ang babae naman ay mababakas sa mukha ang hirap na kanyang dinadanas sa bawat pag-ulos ng lalaki.
Yun ang trip ko.
Babayaran ko na sana ang napili kong X-Rated nang mapansin kong may naligaw na kakaibang VCD na iba sa mga unang titles na nakita ko. Sa halip na babae at lalaki ang nasa litrato, parehong lalaking hubad ang nasa kalakip na papel ng VCD. Noong una ay pilit kong dinedma ang nadiskubre ko. Tutal, kahit na lumalaban ako sa tendencies ko noon, alam kong hindi ako basta-basta bibigay nang dahil sa isang X-Rated lang.
Ngunit, nagkamali ako...
Pitong taon na ang lumipas, sa Hidalgo Quiapo kung saan matatagpuan ang palengke at eskinita kung saan hile-hilarang nakasabit sa dingding ang mga X-Rated na binebenta sa lugar na iyon. Dito, kung saan naglipana ang iba't ibang Male to Female Kantutan na VCD, DVD pati na rin Gangbang, Girl to Girl, Bestiality, Lolita at Anime;
dito rin matatagpuan ang...
---
"Boss anong bago niyong M2M?" Tanong ng binata.
"Meron dito, heto o, paubos na nga eh. Maganda iyan! Madami na nga ang bumili sa akin." Sabay abot ng tinderong Maranao sa binata.
"Bareback, Bel-Ami, ayus to!" Bulong ng binata sa sarili.
"Kunin ko dalawa sa sandaan. Ok ho ba?"
"Sige ba, basta balik ka dito suki ha." Pangiting sagot ng tindero sa binata.
"Dito naman ako laging bumibili eh. Basta gumagana to manong ha?"
"Soli mo lang kung ayaw gumana. Palitan natin ng iba."
---
Mula sa kabadong paghugot sa nag-iisang M2M Bisidi na nabili ko sa Carriedo sabay mataimtim na pag-abot ng isang-daang piso sa tindero ng hindi tumitingin rito, hanggang sa lantarang pamimili ng X-Rated M2M Dibidi sa Quiapo Hidalgo na pangiti at may apog pang nakikipagbiruan sa tindero,
Ang lahat ay parang evolution lang.
Thursday, March 13, 2008
Bunny Interludes Twenty Five: The Journey Of The Bunny Chaser
A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.
- Lao Tzu.
---
"All in all, I needed 3 sets with 15 reps for every exercise in my weight-training program. Most of the exercises were easy and less strenious. I feel my fats burning especially when I did the crunches. Man! I was doing 15 reps when after I stopped doing the exercise, cramps suddenly hit my abs. It's like, I couldn't get up because I feel that my stomach is contracting. I told the sensation to my instructor, so we stopped the other abs exercises for the meantime.
The most difficult exercises I've done was those involving the arms, particularly the biceps/triceps area. The punishment was too much that I have to change my dumbell because of the strain. I was also worried that since the instructor was nowhere in sight, I might be doing the wrong thing. But just the same, I tried to complete the program despite its difficulty. After all, one thing I've learned from the other guys is that do not push the limits especially if you know that your body couldn't do it."
- Lao Tzu.
---
"All in all, I needed 3 sets with 15 reps for every exercise in my weight-training program. Most of the exercises were easy and less strenious. I feel my fats burning especially when I did the crunches. Man! I was doing 15 reps when after I stopped doing the exercise, cramps suddenly hit my abs. It's like, I couldn't get up because I feel that my stomach is contracting. I told the sensation to my instructor, so we stopped the other abs exercises for the meantime.
The most difficult exercises I've done was those involving the arms, particularly the biceps/triceps area. The punishment was too much that I have to change my dumbell because of the strain. I was also worried that since the instructor was nowhere in sight, I might be doing the wrong thing. But just the same, I tried to complete the program despite its difficulty. After all, one thing I've learned from the other guys is that do not push the limits especially if you know that your body couldn't do it."
- Calling From Powerflex, March 14, 2004
---
"Why should I postpone something important for tomorrow, when I can do it today?
Going to the gym and trimming myself is important. In fact, I think its one of the most important thing that I should do right now.
However, at the back of my mind, the only thing that hesitates me from doing so is could I commit myself to it? Do I have enough motivation for me to change my way of life?
Well, I think I dont have answer for that yet..."
- Dreams Of Being A Gym Bunny (Again), August 9, 2005
---
"Sa pag-gygym ko ngayon, target ko lang naman ang maging malapad pero mapayat ang katawan eh. Gusto ko lang na kapag tumingin ako sa salamin, walang beelbeel at tiyan na tatambad sa harap ko.
Wish ko lang na kapag tumingin ako sa salamin habang nakasuot ng white tank top, ako mismo eh mababakla sa sarili ko.
Hindi ko na bet magkaroon ng sixpacks o kaya pang-model modelan na katawan
Sapat na sakin ma-achieve ang pinaka-minimum objectives ko.
Pero who knows..."
- Hopes of Becoming A Super Gym Bunny, August 31, 2005
---
But one thing is sure though. I would prove that Pipay was wrong when he said that my flabs would stay forever. In eight months I would make sure that I would have some major improvements on my body.
Until then. I would stay quiet. I'm even thinking whether it would be good to be isolated for the mean time so that my developments... would just be for my eyes alone.And no matter how many times it would take before I may become successful in taming my own frame. I would never stop nor surrender.
For I'm beginning to get tired hiding behind my own shadow.
And I'm getting weary thinking about if I would last a decade with the abuses I'm giving to my deteriorating body.
Lastly, I'm beginning to get tired oogling at some other buff bodies when I can develop mine.
I guess, it's time to claim my own place.
After all, whatever happens, It's my body and my health that mattered.
- Act of Liberation, February 13, 2006
---
"Lastly, I found out that I am now officially below the 200th pound mark. It was my weight last September - right after I decided to stop my work out. If things go as planned, I could loose another 10 pounds in just one month."
- Bunny Interludes Two, March 1, 2006
---
"Attending the work-out three times a week is like a protracted war. You would never know who's side is winning; how much fat you lost and how many muscles you gained in a span of time. It's like a long term battle aimed at exhausting both sides of the conflict - it's either you surrender the struggle, or your fats finally withdraw from your lousy body. In any case, it is something I have to face in this work-out. Nobody knows - except my own skin, how much I lost or won since I started the gym almost a month ago."
- Bunny Interludes Three, March 7, 2006
---
"Lubhang matagal pa siguro bago ako makaapak muli sa non-overweight status na ineenjoy ko tatlong taon na ang nakakaraan. Marahil aabutin pa ng taon, bago ako makakita ng pandesal sa aking abs, kung mangyayari man ito. Kung meron man akong tagumpay sa mga oras na ito, ang attempt ko sa pagwowork out ngayong taon ang siyang pinakamatagal ko na - simula ng tinuruan ako ng tatay ko magbuhat ng dumbell."
- Bunny Interludes Five, March 27, 2006
---
"7. It takes around 2 weeks before improvements begin to appear. Give it another 2 weeks and with extreme discipline, significant changes are already visible."
- Bunny Interludes Six, April 5, 2006
---
"The four-day hiatus only tells that I am in the verge of surrendering this enterprise for an indefinite period. If I decide not to renew my membership for three months, this entry might be my last post about my three-month stint at the gym. If ever that happens, at least I should appreciate the fact that I already lost 20 pounds from such activity. I should be happy with it. "
- Bunny Interludes Nine, June 5, 2006
---
"Two years, eight months, countless sessions and several failed attempts before, here I am still holding on to my gym routine. So far it has never been broken for so long and it's result on my body, vanity and self-confidence would have been unthinkable. I never had expected that such tranformation is possible when I was just merely attempting. In fact, my built is slimmer now compared to my body size two years ago.
Gym instructors come and go, work-out buddies take breaks in training which span for months only to return after. In my case, there is no stopping. my longest break so far was one week. I am so concerned that stopping for too long would encourage me to break my routine. Breaking it also would revert me back to my body size before I enrolled at the gym.
Which is one of my greatest fears right now.
-
In the long run, I believe that those who really succeed in bodybuilding are those who have the vision and patience to adopt the entire activity as a lifestyle. Nobody would be crazy enough to spend three hours in the gym every other day just to satisfy his objective."
- Bunny Interludes Eleven, August 28, 2006
---
"Thus, it leaves my blog as the silent witness to all the hardships and battles I fought just to keep my built in line with my objectives. I remembered someone saying that the gym is the homo's temple. He may be right in many ways, for the homo looks up to everything that is masculine. I keep on fighting this never-ending Jihad to emancipate myself from such mindset. I feel that the more I get to control my body, the lesser I depended on the masculinity and confidence of others."- Act of Liberation, February 13, 2006
---
"Lastly, I found out that I am now officially below the 200th pound mark. It was my weight last September - right after I decided to stop my work out. If things go as planned, I could loose another 10 pounds in just one month."
- Bunny Interludes Two, March 1, 2006
---
"Attending the work-out three times a week is like a protracted war. You would never know who's side is winning; how much fat you lost and how many muscles you gained in a span of time. It's like a long term battle aimed at exhausting both sides of the conflict - it's either you surrender the struggle, or your fats finally withdraw from your lousy body. In any case, it is something I have to face in this work-out. Nobody knows - except my own skin, how much I lost or won since I started the gym almost a month ago."
- Bunny Interludes Three, March 7, 2006
---
"Lubhang matagal pa siguro bago ako makaapak muli sa non-overweight status na ineenjoy ko tatlong taon na ang nakakaraan. Marahil aabutin pa ng taon, bago ako makakita ng pandesal sa aking abs, kung mangyayari man ito. Kung meron man akong tagumpay sa mga oras na ito, ang attempt ko sa pagwowork out ngayong taon ang siyang pinakamatagal ko na - simula ng tinuruan ako ng tatay ko magbuhat ng dumbell."
- Bunny Interludes Five, March 27, 2006
---
"7. It takes around 2 weeks before improvements begin to appear. Give it another 2 weeks and with extreme discipline, significant changes are already visible."
- Bunny Interludes Six, April 5, 2006
---
"The four-day hiatus only tells that I am in the verge of surrendering this enterprise for an indefinite period. If I decide not to renew my membership for three months, this entry might be my last post about my three-month stint at the gym. If ever that happens, at least I should appreciate the fact that I already lost 20 pounds from such activity. I should be happy with it. "
- Bunny Interludes Nine, June 5, 2006
---
"Two years, eight months, countless sessions and several failed attempts before, here I am still holding on to my gym routine. So far it has never been broken for so long and it's result on my body, vanity and self-confidence would have been unthinkable. I never had expected that such tranformation is possible when I was just merely attempting. In fact, my built is slimmer now compared to my body size two years ago.
Gym instructors come and go, work-out buddies take breaks in training which span for months only to return after. In my case, there is no stopping. my longest break so far was one week. I am so concerned that stopping for too long would encourage me to break my routine. Breaking it also would revert me back to my body size before I enrolled at the gym.
Which is one of my greatest fears right now.
-
In the long run, I believe that those who really succeed in bodybuilding are those who have the vision and patience to adopt the entire activity as a lifestyle. Nobody would be crazy enough to spend three hours in the gym every other day just to satisfy his objective."
- Bunny Interludes Eleven, August 28, 2006
---
- Bunny Interludes Thirteen, November 7, 2006
---
"The efforts of ten months, gone in just the month of January."
- Bunny Interludes Fifteen (Panic House Remix) January 21, 2007
---
"Ngunit, ang nagawa ng minsan ay maaring ulitin. Ang work-out ay isang life-long affair, na kailangang i-maintain at balik-balikan kung talagang seryoso sa training ang isang estudyante. Alam kong ang laban dito ay puno ng sakripisyo at disiplina. Hindi gaya ng iba na payatin, ang effort ko dito ay doble dahil na rin sa aking tabaing pangangatawan na dapat I trim down para na rin sa aking kalusugan."
- Bunny Interludes Sixteen, April 16, 2007
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"The program given to me by the head coach is significantly easier compared to the program I had in my first gym. This time, instead of focusing my energy doing an hour of cardio exercise, my main thrust is the free weights. If I had to do a bench press or a military press exercise, there are no machines to assist me. All I have are brute force and stored fat to help me execute my program.
The fitness instructors - who are not only gym professionals, but geniuses in their own respective careers are helpful and meticulous enough to correct my executions - to the point of achieving perfection. Without them, injury might have already taken its toll on me. Besides, the camaraderie I have with them is encouraging enough to make me endure walking the extra mile just to continue my program without any man-made interruptions. "
- Bunny Interludes Nineteen, June 3, 2007
---
"I maybe a hunk - like what the guys in G4M or Club Bath would often complement just to catch my attention, but in your presence,
I would always remain an apprentice.
You will always be the master that I would try and constantly emulate.
So do not admire me bud, for the drive to get back on track always remain with you. We don't talk that much anymore, I know. But every time I groan from pain whenever I lift some heavy weights in the gym;
Whenever the word jubesity is mentioned by someone during a conversation and whenever the thought of Pampanga comes across my mind,
I still remember bud. There are so many cherishing things that are not easy to forget."
- Bunny Interludes Twenty Two (A Ballad For XP), October 6, 2007
---
"Nevertheless, I have come a long way to achieve this body, which in many ways I could already be proud of. In the long course of chasing the bunnies, I have never dreamed I would this be fit. I can confidently say that my strength had increased significantly even if my weariness often fails me. I may still continuously suffer, not only from fatigue but from work-out failures as well. The temptations to break my efforts may become more intense as the year comes to a close."
- Bunny Interludes Twenty Three, November 15, 2007
---
"But as a beginner's luck, I have high hopes that I may finally get what I'm aiming for this year. The program, which was designed to increase my metabolism significantly appears to be working. Beating my conservative assessments of a ten-pound increase in weight. The scale revealed a two-pound gain this Christmas Break.
If and ever I'd get serious with my workout and diet until summer, there is a huge possibility that I might be sporting a flatter tummy come the beach days begin."
- Bunny Interludes Twenty Four, January 03, 2008
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Signs Of His Awakening (Episode I) | Hibernation
Vassago in demonology, is a mighty Prince of Hell, ruling over twenty-six legions of demons. He can be persuaded to tell the magician of events past and future, can discover hidden and lost things, and has a "good" nature.
One early description of Vassago was that he appeared "as an aged man riding a crocodile and carrying on his right wrist a Goshawk. His eyes are hollow and see into other dimensions, but he is blind in this dimension.
Vassago enjoys changing form and has been known to play games with magicians that call on him. Once seen as a dark and menacing entity, in recent years he is now being thought of as being, playful, and mostly harmless.
- Wikipedia entry on Demons
---
I got acquainted with a PLU who dabbles into occultism a few weeks before I deleted my G4M account. In those days, I was beginning to feel sick and tired of sex threads becoming too recycled with the usual guys looking for orgies, threesomes or malicious "sleep-overs" again and again. With my home thread already buried under heaps of threads seeking sexual invitations or accusations of unspeakable illness, I decided to move into other forums where people talk about something else aside from looking for hook-ups day and night.
One thread that caught my attention was the Wiccan Thread found in the Spirituality Forum. It was my desperate need of a Mangtatawas that drove me to that place and the first person I ended up talking to appears to be a conjurer of demons.
For those who are not into esoteric matters, a conjurer is someone who invokes earth-bound spirits or demons to do their bidding. Whether these were done to gain more knowledge, wisdom or even to play malicious trick with someone is something I don't know. The guy and I talked about his interests in Alchemy. I even encouraged him to continue his passion even if his family strongly disapproved of it.
We then talked about Theosophy and my growing interest in that subject. You see, Theosophy is a religious philosophy that states that all religion are attempts by the "Spiritual Hierarchy" to help humanity in evolving to greater perfection, and that each religion therefore has a portion of the truth. I told him of my keen interest in joining the Theosophical Society. He said that once he went to their gathering where he drank so many cups of strong coffee because "their discussion made him feel sleepy. "
Though he said that the members of the society were "nice and helpful," what bothered me was his claim that he "sensed some of them were closet Satanist." It doesn't matter if these people are, but what made me back-off was the fact that I might be talking to a practicing one.
I don't find anything wrong talking to a Satanist. In several occasions, I found myself throwing my sympathy to one after a bunch of religious bigots ganged up on him in one of the threads in the same forum before. He did find my support unusual so I told him that the reason why I agreed with him is because he knows and understands the underlying tenets real Satanist adhere to.
You see, a true Satanist is proud, cold-blooded and abhors any form of hypocrisy displayed especially by those ruled by dogmatism and narrow-minded practice of faith. They resort to Black Magik (as they call them) to invoke spirits and demons to guide them in their dark lives. I never met one personally, but I am certain that I would sense their brooding darkness when I see one, and this brooding attitude and ability to use dark energy is what I'm not comfortable with them.
The conjurer I've talked to encouraged me to summon Vassago on several occasions. Since I don't know anything about demonology or conjuring before I met him, I turned to Wikipedia to find out who Vassago is. It turns out he is a prince of darkness who controls vast legions in the underworld. Though he appears harmless according to those who have summoned him, I prefer to have no dealings with the demons no matter how open my mind is to their presence.
We gradually lost contact after we have talked about the demons and summonings. I realized that he is not the right person who could show me the way in any personal spiritual journey I would like to undertake in this lifetime.
Nevertheless, for a moment in our conversation, I had an inkling thought of what powers to ask if a demon would grant me one.
True to my nature.
What I would ask for is the power to take away fear, pain and suffering of those who would ask it humbly from me.
One early description of Vassago was that he appeared "as an aged man riding a crocodile and carrying on his right wrist a Goshawk. His eyes are hollow and see into other dimensions, but he is blind in this dimension.
Vassago enjoys changing form and has been known to play games with magicians that call on him. Once seen as a dark and menacing entity, in recent years he is now being thought of as being, playful, and mostly harmless.
- Wikipedia entry on Demons
---
I got acquainted with a PLU who dabbles into occultism a few weeks before I deleted my G4M account. In those days, I was beginning to feel sick and tired of sex threads becoming too recycled with the usual guys looking for orgies, threesomes or malicious "sleep-overs" again and again. With my home thread already buried under heaps of threads seeking sexual invitations or accusations of unspeakable illness, I decided to move into other forums where people talk about something else aside from looking for hook-ups day and night.
One thread that caught my attention was the Wiccan Thread found in the Spirituality Forum. It was my desperate need of a Mangtatawas that drove me to that place and the first person I ended up talking to appears to be a conjurer of demons.
For those who are not into esoteric matters, a conjurer is someone who invokes earth-bound spirits or demons to do their bidding. Whether these were done to gain more knowledge, wisdom or even to play malicious trick with someone is something I don't know. The guy and I talked about his interests in Alchemy. I even encouraged him to continue his passion even if his family strongly disapproved of it.
We then talked about Theosophy and my growing interest in that subject. You see, Theosophy is a religious philosophy that states that all religion are attempts by the "Spiritual Hierarchy" to help humanity in evolving to greater perfection, and that each religion therefore has a portion of the truth. I told him of my keen interest in joining the Theosophical Society. He said that once he went to their gathering where he drank so many cups of strong coffee because "their discussion made him feel sleepy. "
Though he said that the members of the society were "nice and helpful," what bothered me was his claim that he "sensed some of them were closet Satanist." It doesn't matter if these people are, but what made me back-off was the fact that I might be talking to a practicing one.
I don't find anything wrong talking to a Satanist. In several occasions, I found myself throwing my sympathy to one after a bunch of religious bigots ganged up on him in one of the threads in the same forum before. He did find my support unusual so I told him that the reason why I agreed with him is because he knows and understands the underlying tenets real Satanist adhere to.
You see, a true Satanist is proud, cold-blooded and abhors any form of hypocrisy displayed especially by those ruled by dogmatism and narrow-minded practice of faith. They resort to Black Magik (as they call them) to invoke spirits and demons to guide them in their dark lives. I never met one personally, but I am certain that I would sense their brooding darkness when I see one, and this brooding attitude and ability to use dark energy is what I'm not comfortable with them.
The conjurer I've talked to encouraged me to summon Vassago on several occasions. Since I don't know anything about demonology or conjuring before I met him, I turned to Wikipedia to find out who Vassago is. It turns out he is a prince of darkness who controls vast legions in the underworld. Though he appears harmless according to those who have summoned him, I prefer to have no dealings with the demons no matter how open my mind is to their presence.
We gradually lost contact after we have talked about the demons and summonings. I realized that he is not the right person who could show me the way in any personal spiritual journey I would like to undertake in this lifetime.
Nevertheless, for a moment in our conversation, I had an inkling thought of what powers to ask if a demon would grant me one.
True to my nature.
What I would ask for is the power to take away fear, pain and suffering of those who would ask it humbly from me.
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
A Little Piece Of Paradise
Wala nang hihigit pa
sa kapanatagan ng
pakiramdam ang magkulong
sa iyong kuwartong
pagkainit-init, habang
ang iyong butihing ina ay
na nanonood ng Senate Hearing sa ANC
at ang iyong kapatid naman
ay nasa job interview
kasama ang driver at ang kanyang
kanang kamay.
Malayo man ang buddy
ngunit dahil sa strike ngayong araw
ay napilitan rin siyang mamalagi sa
kanyang bahay.
Siya man ay may sakit,
ngunit alam mong ang kanyang
pagtigil sa kanyang tinutuluyan ay
katumbas rin ng isang araw na pahinga.
I guess this must be the closest
thing of what heaven is to me.
sa kapanatagan ng
pakiramdam ang magkulong
sa iyong kuwartong
pagkainit-init, habang
ang iyong butihing ina ay
na nanonood ng Senate Hearing sa ANC
at ang iyong kapatid naman
ay nasa job interview
kasama ang driver at ang kanyang
kanang kamay.
Malayo man ang buddy
ngunit dahil sa strike ngayong araw
ay napilitan rin siyang mamalagi sa
kanyang bahay.
Siya man ay may sakit,
ngunit alam mong ang kanyang
pagtigil sa kanyang tinutuluyan ay
katumbas rin ng isang araw na pahinga.
I guess this must be the closest
thing of what heaven is to me.
Monday, March 10, 2008
The Lives Of The Excessively Rich and Super Decadent | Hibernation
If not for AJ's visit to my blog. I would not find out what this Gucci Gang and their infamous scandal is all about.
The truth is, I've heard about them and their kind many times before. They were not given names by my informant but their activities were so familiar, it didn't give me a jaw-dropping shock anymore when I learned about the scandal through AJ. To give you an idea, these ladies and gentlemen are God's children. They are from very powerful families that control vast swaths of our nation's fortunes. I say that they are from the old rich clans, except that they were never involved in the process of accumulating their family's wealth. Life was too easy for them that they become spoiled the moment they realized that they have nothing else to do with life except to race against one another to the top of the social ladder.
For them, life is a party. Their necessity lies on the fact that they use their influence to further advance their family's connection. So long as they have the money to burn, they spend it on material things average people like us would never imagine ourselves spending our hard-earned cash for.
I remember a classmate in graduate school who had once been connected with these people. It used to be part of her job being in a lifestyle industry to rub elbows with these socialites. She told us that in order to fit in a crowd where everyone knows one another, one must resort to snorting coke and hard drinks to socialize comfortably at a party. She said that coke costs thousands a gram to obtain. For a socialite who attends social gatherings almost every night, it's not unusual for that person to throw 10,000 a night.
I haven't even mentioned what happens after the parties are over. Since sex is not my favorite topic to talk about at the moment, let's just say that its not unusual for a socialite to sleep with someone else's wife or lover or even to join a couple for a night-long menage a' trois. From the impressions people who have told me, it seems like sex for these people is as easy as reciting the letters A, B and C.
Now going back to the Gucci Gang Scandal, a blog was set up by an Aussie expatriate who still has a score to settle with his ex-boyfriend who owes him $70,000. I think the money was spent to run their restaurant business that had recently gone bankrupt. What makes matters worse is that his ex-bf allegedly stole some things from him like his brand-new Tom Ford shades and a pair of Yogi shoes from his hotel room. I am not familiar with these brands, but they do appear to be very valuable for the blogger.
Since his ex-bf is also connected to a younger generation of socialites often seen at Manila's finest party spots, this aussie had also revealed a basket-full of rotten tomatoes exposing the decadent lifestyles of these alta sociedad people. In his words:
There are many other passages implicating these people of their crimes. I am most certain these "God's Children" have already hired the best lawyers and the most gutless hit men to kill this Aussie wherever his nook is. Like AJ, I won't mention names. After all, I'm just a bystander who accidentally stumbled a highly scandalous blog that involves very prominent people. I know, everyone has a nasty secret to hide. But you know what, the more I get exposed to the revelations written on his blog, the more I become sick of everything they do - The coke, the things people do when they get high on cocaine, the sex and the betrayal part, the things they buy when they are out of ideas of how to burn their money. It's like a life going in circles and the more they twist themselves, the more they get distorted.
In my younger days, I dreamed of living a socialite's life even for a week. You know, living in an expensive two-room pad somewhere in Makati, being invited to parties where what everyone does is fill their head with hot air and smoke, and then driving to some far-flung province such as Aurora with my hunky boyfriend holding my hand as I drive my Benz C-Class along the highway.
I once dreamed of a life like that.
But now that I've been aware of how shallow and sick such life could be, I think I'm better off remaining a hermit/domesticated for the rest of my life.
---
Link to the Gucci Scandal Blog.
The truth is, I've heard about them and their kind many times before. They were not given names by my informant but their activities were so familiar, it didn't give me a jaw-dropping shock anymore when I learned about the scandal through AJ. To give you an idea, these ladies and gentlemen are God's children. They are from very powerful families that control vast swaths of our nation's fortunes. I say that they are from the old rich clans, except that they were never involved in the process of accumulating their family's wealth. Life was too easy for them that they become spoiled the moment they realized that they have nothing else to do with life except to race against one another to the top of the social ladder.
For them, life is a party. Their necessity lies on the fact that they use their influence to further advance their family's connection. So long as they have the money to burn, they spend it on material things average people like us would never imagine ourselves spending our hard-earned cash for.
I remember a classmate in graduate school who had once been connected with these people. It used to be part of her job being in a lifestyle industry to rub elbows with these socialites. She told us that in order to fit in a crowd where everyone knows one another, one must resort to snorting coke and hard drinks to socialize comfortably at a party. She said that coke costs thousands a gram to obtain. For a socialite who attends social gatherings almost every night, it's not unusual for that person to throw 10,000 a night.
I haven't even mentioned what happens after the parties are over. Since sex is not my favorite topic to talk about at the moment, let's just say that its not unusual for a socialite to sleep with someone else's wife or lover or even to join a couple for a night-long menage a' trois. From the impressions people who have told me, it seems like sex for these people is as easy as reciting the letters A, B and C.
Now going back to the Gucci Gang Scandal, a blog was set up by an Aussie expatriate who still has a score to settle with his ex-boyfriend who owes him $70,000. I think the money was spent to run their restaurant business that had recently gone bankrupt. What makes matters worse is that his ex-bf allegedly stole some things from him like his brand-new Tom Ford shades and a pair of Yogi shoes from his hotel room. I am not familiar with these brands, but they do appear to be very valuable for the blogger.
Since his ex-bf is also connected to a younger generation of socialites often seen at Manila's finest party spots, this aussie had also revealed a basket-full of rotten tomatoes exposing the decadent lifestyles of these alta sociedad people. In his words:
"*** dear, charity, charity, charity. Not drugs, drugs, drugs. Why do you think that some people need five mobiles and three watches and six ipods and blah blah blah? No one in your Manila set deserves a 'swag bag' They should all be sent to the provinces with the bags to do an honest days work. Pathetic greedy grubby 'young' society. Selvish collective of everything that is wrong with your country. People are rewarded for being rich and punished for being poor. It truly makes me sick.---
You ***, make me sick."
There are many other passages implicating these people of their crimes. I am most certain these "God's Children" have already hired the best lawyers and the most gutless hit men to kill this Aussie wherever his nook is. Like AJ, I won't mention names. After all, I'm just a bystander who accidentally stumbled a highly scandalous blog that involves very prominent people. I know, everyone has a nasty secret to hide. But you know what, the more I get exposed to the revelations written on his blog, the more I become sick of everything they do - The coke, the things people do when they get high on cocaine, the sex and the betrayal part, the things they buy when they are out of ideas of how to burn their money. It's like a life going in circles and the more they twist themselves, the more they get distorted.
In my younger days, I dreamed of living a socialite's life even for a week. You know, living in an expensive two-room pad somewhere in Makati, being invited to parties where what everyone does is fill their head with hot air and smoke, and then driving to some far-flung province such as Aurora with my hunky boyfriend holding my hand as I drive my Benz C-Class along the highway.
I once dreamed of a life like that.
But now that I've been aware of how shallow and sick such life could be, I think I'm better off remaining a hermit/domesticated for the rest of my life.
---
Link to the Gucci Scandal Blog.
Sunday, March 9, 2008
Between Light and Shadows
In a moment's sense of tranquility, I would like to share you this passage I read from one of my favorite novels.
---
---
Tripitaka: Monkey, how far is it to the Western Heaven, the abode of Buddha?
Wu-Kong: You can walk from the time of your youth till the time you grow old, and after that, till you become young again; and even after going through such a cycle a thousand times, you will still find it difficult to reach the place where you want to go. But when you perceive, by the resoluteness of your will, the Buddha-nature in all things, and when every one of your thoughts goes back to the fountain of your memory, that will be the time you arrive at Spirit Mountain.
- The Journey to the West, Opening Words to the novel, The Years of Rice and Salt.
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