The Art of (Cold) War

June 18, 2008 at 2:03 pm (Drunken Thoughts)

JACK: You know what she needs? A nice warm bowl of Kabbalah.

WILL: It’s not a… [SIGHS] I’ll boil the water.

!!!

I eavesdrop a lot. Oftentimes in the office, I hear people mumbling and talking to each other and I get a lot of free and classified information about them and our other officemates. Before, I thought it was wrong to listen to other people’s conversations, but I really wasn’t doing anything extra but just keeping to myself, slaving away with my work. Which boils down to two things: they talk really loudly as if they’re miles apart with no cellphones to use, or my ears are too big for a person of my built. I thought it was a curse. Now I know it’s a gift.

 

!!!

 

Knowing truly classified office information can be both exciting and dangerous at the same time. The thrill of exclusivity kicks in as I know that I’m one of the people who know very powerful information. Better yet, I am the only person whom they think knows nothing about something but really does. So this gives me a blanket of protection if I decide to utilize this information to my advantage. The fucking dork doesn’t know anything…he’s innocent. Reconnaissance. I should be in the CIA.

 

!!!

 

I don’t have a poker face. You can tell easily if I don’t like you. For the rest, I put on a happy face. In every new interpersonal experience that I encounter, I always give the other person the benefit of the doubt, although I know that sooner or later, one or both of us are going to fuck up the set up.

 

                                                                      !!!

 

Dogs don’t purr. They bark. So before barking at someone, make sure you don’t sound like a cat now…more so later. Waging a war with someone requires the necessary skills of indifference, confidence and tolerance. Luckily for me, I have plenty of the early two and still improving on the last one. I don’t really tolerate enemies. As a teenager back then, I really engage people into a heated verbal or sometimes physical fight when agitated. As I grow older however, God farted and I caught a wisp of his wisdom, and I thank Him for the patience. So I resorted into cold wars. I tell you, it’s better here.

 

!!!

 

I believe in karma. I believe that all of us are made up of energy that’s being transferred from one living being to another. I dunno if it coincides with the concept of karma, but I imagine people doing bad things to others, are transferring negative energies. And as they give out this bad energy, nothing will be left of them -just an empty soul. Like the law of conservation of energy, it can neither be created nor destroyed. So, it will only circle around, transforming its nature but sooner or later it will go back to its original state and will be transferred to the one who’s given it off in the first place, this time double in amount.

 

!!!

 

When you say “sorry” to someone, make sure you surrender all your pride, but not your contention and beliefs. This word is the most humbling expression that I know and I have used it so many times. We often say “sorry” for the trivial things that happen in our lives, like bumping to another person in a busy street, yet it is so hard to say for the bigger reasons.

 

 

 

 

 

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Bottle Sore

May 14, 2008 at 11:49 am (Poetry)

You have been raised

From the cold world

Where you were once

Frozen.

 

He chose you to be his.

As he gently caressed your body

With his fingers,

Lifting you cautiously

To let his lips touch the rim

Where both his want and your need will converge-

Savoring your very being.

 

It all happened too fast.

 

Now you are empty.

And as much as you want him

Tangent to your damp visage,

You have no more to offer

For he sated his thirst

With everything you had.

 

Now,

In the final moment of your agony,

If you where to choose:

Would you rather

Be put in one corner

Of the darkest part of the room,

Or be left

 

Shattered and broken?

 

**I found this ancient poem of mine while googling my name.  thanks Thea Sabrina. At least you dint replace my name with yours. =)

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It’s Bitter to be Better

May 1, 2008 at 9:31 pm (Drunken Thoughts)

Incapable of loving another person. If I say that I care about you, I just mean that in a brotherly sense of the word. I believe people have all the potential they need to become great someday and it really irritates me to see someone wasting away his/her life over nonsensical trivialities. I love singing and I recently purged my long overdue sadness in missing my late brother Julius. I am a broken soul that’s why most of the people who know me think I am a free spirit…and it’s by choice. I choose not to be sad about the things that happened in my life. Oh, which brings me: I have a knack for remembering bad things more over than good things in life. Call me calloused. Call me a scarred person- that’s how I operate. But as Kahlil Gibran said, “Your Joy is your sorrow unmasked…the more that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain”. I am who I am now because of those things in my life. I’m slowly accepting that some things simply could not be changed, and Splender reminded me of that in the song “I Think God Can Explain”. I am a transluscent person (if there’s such a description) meaning, I’m shady enough to cover true joy or sorrow regardless of the reason, yet you can see clearly the blackness of my hatred to you, if you ever get in my bad side. My favorite letter is V for vendetta and I am on a longstanding mission to outlive the crooks who had taken my childhood away from me by being passive-aggressive and curse them and their children that they will die of prostrate or cervical cancer. Then I will spit at their coffins as it is being buried. At my latest count, two died horribly and there’re three more to go. Fun fun. I can be your long-term enemy and I only accept apologies in the surface. No Mastercard, no Visa accepted. Deep inside, there is a hunger for revenge, especially if what you did was intentional. Apologies are always genuinely accepted on my terms, not when you grovel at my feet begging for one. I used to say I am a straightforward buck, but to be frank, I really am not (spot the irony). I am Mr. Sugarcoater so that’s why I don’t speak too much with people I feel I won’t get along very well. A few nods here and there, and that’s enough for me. Force me to smile, I will vomit. Quite different when I’m with friends. I can be as tough as a nail. I can be the biggest bitch with balls you may find in the world, but all the bitching comes from the heart.

 

It’s a rarity to chat with a really dumb yet arrogant person but I really like it a lot when it happens because somehow I know someone is worse than me at that moment. They can just talk and talk and at some points I will nod and smile and ask an inquiring question to engage them to spill out more booboos. Heaven. I feed on their ego. Ego Heaven. Hmmm…

 

I blame my pre-“cool” high school barkadas for always imaging people in nude and humping each other because that used to be one of our stupid past-times during class lunch breaks. Yeah, they’re not cool but they are my real friends. We were all losers. Then I was somehow included to the “cool” group in school and I somehow bridged the gap between the “cool” and the rest of the school’s social strata. I never thought I would grow pubes and now it’s a sting to the memory every time I imagine George Bagsao with pubes longer than his erect penis, or the cropped fuzz of…let’s say Miss Sulit.

 

It’s morning. Mum’s cooked fluffy hotcakes and a warm chocolate drink for me. Yippee! She’s just the best.

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Lyrics

April 3, 2008 at 12:18 am (Drunken Thoughts)

Some of the song lines that has struck a chord and impacted me on how to view life:

1. …i love you more than the sun/and the stars that i’ve taught how to shine/you are mine/and you shine for me too/I love you, yesterday and today and tomorrow i’ll say it again/and again, I love you MORE.

– More by Matthew West

2. …Lord knows/dreams are hard to follow/but don’t let anyone/tear them away…

– Hero by Mariah Carey

3. …they can say/anything they want to say/try to bring me down/but I will not allow/anyone to succeed hanging clouds over me…

– Can’t Take that Away by Mariah Carey

4. …Yes, I’ve Been Bruised/Grew Up Confused/Been Destitute/I’ve Seen Life From Many Sides/Been Stigmatized/
Been Black And White/Felt Inferior Inside/Until My Saving Grace Shined On Me

–My Saving Grace by Mariah Carey

5. …It’s alright/I’m okay/I think God can explain

-I Think God Can Explain by Splender

6. Are You forgiver?/Of my most unknown secrets/Provider of all that I need/Could You be brother/The one who knows better/
Would You now stand in the lead

–Could You Be Messiah? by Gary Valenciano

7. …Pangarap ko’y ‘di maabot/dahil sa bawal na gamot

Bawal na Gamot by Willie Garte

8. I’ll never say goodbye/no matter how they try

–Never Ever Say Goodbye

9. …I look up to/everything you are/in my eyes you do no wrong/and I believe in you/although you never asked me to/i will remember you and what  life you put through…

–You’re Still You by Josh Groban

Music is my way to unwind but these songs and particularly these lines heal me everytime I’m feeling down. They remind me that I am not calloused after all. That I value the people around me. That I value myself. That I value God, although it seems so hard for me to follow all his will.

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Julius Adriano (Born: February 4, 1977 Died: ?)

April 1, 2008 at 11:40 pm (Drunken Thoughts)

Music has been pretty much part of my whole life. Ever since I could remember, I would always sing or hum a tune or just sing with foreign lyrics. I love music and somehow, I know it has little affection to me.

My older brother was my biggest influence on music. Between my two brothers, (I was the youngest), my middle brother became closer to me because of it. It was our way of bonding together, well, that and the constant hitting and smacking on the head which I found very healthy. Julius Adriano was seven years older than I, and he always took care of me growing up.

He also had a great voice, very baritone and fit for a balladeer. One time, he and our cousin Gege recorded a song by Nonoy Zuñiga entitled Never Ever Say Goodbye. Little did he know that our Tita was behind him while he rendered a heartwarming version. So at the end of the song, an outburst of laughter could be heard at the recording.

That was a long time ago. Circa 90. We tried searching for the cassette tape with the recorded song but it was gone…like him. He died in a surprising circumstance. It was literally because of a nightmare or bangungot or in medical terms, Acute Pancreatic Hemorrhage. Before, I found it ironic that he sang a song entitled Never Ever Say Goodbye where in only after a few months he would be gone. But back then I didn’t recognize the impact he had on my life and my passion. He was the original Adriano who joins contests and wins. He was the original achiever (if you may consider me as one) and the biggest dreamer of all. Now I think should he be still alive, he’ll join those contests on TV.

Now I realize he was/is my music, my brother. A foolish child before thought that his brother left him to carry his burden on his own but in fact, that brother kept his promise by living in his younger brother’s every breath of tune and lyrics– pitchy or perfect.

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Catching a Bus to Indang

March 13, 2008 at 11:30 am (Drunken Thoughts)

For Khey 

I catch a waft of a promise left

Hanging in my room’s darkness.

My damp visage on the bed

forms words

As silence slices memories

 

Of a bus trip to Indang,

Out of my room

Out of my house

The city

And its insanity.

 

I remember it was

a Sunday morning,

a day when children

could run in the sun,

never minding mending

emotional wounds gaping,

her eyes like daggers on my

mind and then awakened by

the conductor three hours

passed and I thought

I could have picked up

 

Words falling from

Your lips

Along the dusty highway

And collect them to give to you

 

If I could have just brought

Uncle’s bolo, rusty but sharp

As the predicament that

 

I was beating a path to your door?

Heart? Soul?

Or am I traversing other fools’

Trails, either dead-end

Or looping

But hoping

 

That the day will come

That they will stop

And won’t have

To walk anymore.

              

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TAE

February 23, 2008 at 9:00 am (Drunken Thoughts)

Hopefully this will be my first entry for the New Year and as I think about it, it’s only me who’s considering 2008 as a new year, except for the Chinese of course because like real mongoloids they know how to mind and make up their own goddamn business, no pun intended.

 

I’ve attempted to write seemingly interesting topics before, before they all went down the bin. I couldn’t think of anything to write and like what I replied to a friend –a real person, by the way, not existing in my head- following his logic that I should just write the emotions that I feel at that moment, maybe I am already numb inside and the only thing that’s left for me to do is to research on how to make a noose and start hanging myself for no apparent reason at all. Or drink KoolAid with poison ala Jonestown.

 

Right now I feel like shit on every level of its definition, and I thought maybe it’s a good start for me to keep on writing this bullcrap.

 

For the past three days, I’ve been shitting like crazy. It started Thursday afternoon when during a bout of fever and chills while being enslaved by Big Brother, I started developing spasms and had to go to the comfort room, and the funny thing’s coming up next.

 

When you are shitting in the public toilet, is it considered rude when your turd stinks? You don’t have any control over where your shitsmell wafts but should you feel guilty that when an officemate –like me- enters the room then smells what’s cooking, the level of denial and civility become so great that nobody even bothers to point out how foul smelling the whole room is? I mean, you’re the source of the stink bomb, so is it actually your responsibility to apologize or even warn every single person who enters the room right before the very second their sinuses will be clogged up? My point being is that people will be less disconcerted once they enter. By simply shouting “Pasensya na po, tumatae lang…medyo mabaho” will mean a lot to people and will find you thoughtful, right? Anyway…

 

I had to go to the little men’s CR to take a crap and good thing nobody’s in. I picked the farthest cubicle adjacent the wall, the one designed for handicapped people and started dumping down my business. It was effortless. I wish I had a phone camera to take a snapshot of my byproduct but thought that had I had a phone camera I would’ve done it a million times and will find it boring taking a snapshot of my own shit already. It was unstoppable, it was relentless. I didn’t eat anything lunchtime earlier that day and I thought the spasms I felt were due to not having eaten anything…apparently not. So there I was and my spinchter minding our own business (seriously, it’s like my spinchter has a mind of its own and wouldn’t listen to my command) when somebody entered the john and broke our peace.

 

I hate it when it happens, people entering the comfort room when you’re taking a dump. More so, I hated myself for being so ashamed of what I was doing which I thought is very normal for every human being to do. That’s why I blame it to the society that is so superficial to acknowledge that farting and all the “normal” sounds and smell that come along shitting, that one thinks he should constrict his spinchter when somebody enters the room. I am victim of the same society, and we all are. I’d like to say, I don’t give a shit or fart about them, but to further my point, I’d say the opposite.

    

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HNY

December 31, 2007 at 6:27 pm (Drunken Thoughts)

Dalawang oras palang sa bagong taon. Humupa na ang ingay ngunit mangilan-ngilan pa rin ang naririnig sa kalayuan. Sariwa pa ang bagong taon at kinailangan kong sulatin ito.

Kanina, tahimik na ang looban. Wala nang ingay sanhi ng paputok at may mga putok kong kapit-bahay na walang ginawa kundi ang gumawa ng kahit anung tunog masabi lamang na sila’y “in” ngayong darating na taon.

.

Nabubuwisit ako sa ingay na gawa ng bagong taon. Sabi ko nga sa kaibigan kong si Jo, hindi ko makita ang sense ng pagpapaputok tuwing sasapit ang bagong taon. Okay sa akin ang manood ng fireworks display pero kahit may morbid fascination ako sa mga wak-wak na kamay at paa, hindi ko pa rin masakyan ang trip ng karamihan para gumawa ng anu pa mang klase ng ingay. Kanina, habang papalabas sa sinapupunan ng panahon ang bagong taon, nakuntento na ako sa pagninilay-nilay sa lahat ng nangyari sa akin noong nakaraang mga buwan. Lahat ng masasama at mabubuti, mga tagumpay at kasawian, lahat iyon inisip ko at nagplano kung paano maging mas mabuti at epektibong tao sa susunod na taon.

Masaya kanina dito sa looban. Nagsasayawan sa daan ang mga tambay (adik, siga at sugarol). Malakas ang tugtugan, masarap ang mga pagkaing pinamahagi ng ilan at maingay ang lahat. Lahat binubugaw ang malas para hindi kumapit sa taong darating.

Dalawang oras matapos ang pagsasaya, isasara ko na sana ang computer para mamahinga (dahil wala akong nareceive na text na gagala kami ng mga barkada ko) nang biglang may narinig akong sigawan at hiyawan sa labas. Nagsasapakan ang dalawa naming kapit-bahay. Hiyawan ang mga babae, sigawan ang mga lalaki, pero tuloy pa rin sila sa pagbubugbugan.

.

Kailan kaya magkakaroon ng pagbabago dito sa looban, tanong ko sa sarili. Bagong taon na nga, pero hindi bagong mga tao.

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Pagpikit ng Mata, Langit nakatawa — Paalam Rene

December 30, 2007 at 11:06 am (Blogroll)

Hindi kami “Personal” na magkakilala ni Rene Villanueva ngunit ganun pa man ay nagulat pa rin ako nang malamang pumanaw na pala siya noong Dec. 5. Hindi man lang siya umabot sa kapaskuhan. Iyon siguro ang pinaka-aabangan niyang araw sa bawat taong nagdaan dahil alam kong sa puso niya, siya’y isang bata. Kaya siguro naapektuhan din ako sa kanyang pagpanaw. Siya ang Jim Henson ng Pilipinas dahil siya ang pangunahing lumikha ng Batibot. Ang Batibot na lubos kong kinagiliwan noong ako’y bata pa. Ang Batibot na nagturo sa akin ng ABAKADA at Isa Dalawa Tatlo- ang nagturo sa akin ng magagandang asal at masasayang alaala. Ang Batibot- si Rene Villanueva.

.

Dati tuwing gabi, hindi ako makapaghintay para magising upang mapanood lamang ang Batibot. Nasasabik akong mapanood muli sina Kiko Matsing at Pong Pagong. Natutuwa ako habang binibigkas ang “sitsiritsit…alibangbang…” at kapag pinapakita na ang kalahati ng katawan ni Ning-Ning at Ging-Ging. Nabatid ko ang kaibahan ko bilang isang Pilipino at tinuruan ako ni Rene na maging mabuting halimbawa nito. 

Ito ang Batibot ko…at ng marami pang Pilipino. Hindi namimili ng katayuan sa buhay ang Batibot. Lahat kahit matatanda ay kaya nitong turuan ng ginintuang mga aral. Nagpapasalamat ako’t naging bahagi ng aking buhay ang Batibot at sa ganoong paraan ay si Rene.

.

Paalam Rene. Tingnan mo, nakatawa na ang langit…

 

    

Hindi ko man lang napapirmahan ang libro ko sa kanya.      

Batibot Theme Song

PAGMULAT NG MATA,
LANGIT NAKATAWA
SA BATIBOT,
SA BATIBOT

TAYO NANG MAGPUNTA
TUKLASIN SA BATIBOT
ANG TUWA, ANG SAYA
DOON SA BATIBOT
TAYO NA, TAYO NA
MGA BATA SA BATIBOT
MALIKSI, MASIGLA. (2X)
DALI, SUNDAN NATIN
ANG NGITI NG ARAW
DOON SA BATIBOT (2X)

TAYO NANG MAGPUNTA
TUKLASIN SA BATIBOT
ANG TUWA, ANG SAYA

DOON SA BATIBOT
TAYO NA, TAYO NA
MGA BATA SA BATIBOT
MALIKSI, MASIGLA. (2X)

Music by:
LOUIE OCAMPO

Lyrics by:
RENE O. VILLANUEVA

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He Said She Said

December 30, 2007 at 4:46 am (Lucid Interval)

Carel: Ikaw ang anak ni Elizabeth Ramsey!! Bakla Bakla!

Ronald: Hala! Eh pano naman ako lalabas sa puke mo!!??

.

Female Co-trainee: Uy, ang ano gift mo sa akin?

Male Co-trainee: Gusto mo bigyan kita ng gift? Yung dadalhin mo ng siyam na buwan!?

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Carel: Jaime, pakitapon naman (then crumples a paper)

Me: O, akinana…

Carel: Ah hindi ito, yung mukha mo!!

.

Jelda: Tangina huwag kayo madaya! Walang palitan ng baraha!

 Donnie: Sus! Andaming sinasabi! O eto na akin, talo ka jan.

Jelda:… Pow ka!

Donnie: Ui! Anong…

Jelda: Nginig bayag mo noh!?

.

Jelda: Ramil!!

Ramil: oh?

Jelda: Anakan mo ako!

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Watsons Lady: Hi Sir!

Ako: Hi.

Watsons Lady: Baka gusto niyo pong i-try itong Celeteque, panlinis po ito ng mukha tsaka pantanggal ng pimples

Ako: (what the fuck did you just mean by that???)

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Captain Howdy

December 29, 2007 at 10:40 am (Blogroll)

Scary. The kind of image you wouldn’t want to remember when you are about to turn off the light of your room. ShooShoo Fontana has told me Captain Howdy was the image shown for a split second in The Exorcist series. Apparently, the image is the real source of spook in the movie and not Linda Blair’s head “stunts”. Captain Howdy…how welcoming.

A still of one of the images of the demon that appears briefly on screen during The Exorcist. Played by Eileen Dietz, Linda Blair's stunt double in the film

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New things learned today:

December 27, 2007 at 4:34 pm (Lucid Interval)

1.      I can eat lasagna, two garlic sticks, spaghetti, fried chicken breast and four slices of pizza with just a glass of softdrink with lots of ice, in about half an hour.

2.      Jeepney drivers are the missing link in the human evolution. Watching them drive their vehicles is like seeing chimps using sticks to get food for the first time. Taxi drivers on the other hand, are the reincarnations of mosquitos and che che flies.

3.      I always prepare for work very early that I find myself killing time before my shift starts.

4.      Giving can be fun but one should not get used to it.

5.      I’m slowly turning my world into a sitcom. I often hear fake audience laughters after delivering a punchline.

6.      If I were a girl, I would have been pregnant by 16 and a whore by now.

7.      I am now able to screen the punchlines I’m about to say to make it clean and unadulterated. Instead of saying, “Where are you going to swipe your credit card when paying in a brothel?”, I’d say “Do they accept VISA or MasterCard?”

8.      Intellectuals can be funny…because they’re corny.

9.      Even a meek, shy type of a person goes to bars and parties a lot.

10.  Everybody’s mind has already been devirginized.

11.  I miss hearing Alicia Keys’s song “No One”, until my trainer played it…again. Then it annoyed me.

12.  I’m capable of losing my voice

13.  I can mimic a high pitched whistle tone when I lose my voice

14.  Looks can be deceiving, but it will serve you better in the long run.

15.  Women can be so annoying when they are chatting.

16.  I like anything bohemian but don’t have the guts to live the life.

17.  My drinking skills are declining as per the cellphone video mentioned by my cotrainee.

18.  Fat people ≠ Fat IQ/EQ. Maybe the cholesterol didn’t just build up on their arteries; maybe it has clogged up their nerve connections as well.

19. Powerbooks doesn’t sell one lousy notebook. No, organizers don’t count.

20. Freakonomics has been sold out right after I entered Powerbooks Greenbelt. I should have wrestled the guy I came across inside who’s holding a copy.   

21. PHP50K is a lot of money to spend on an uncertain thing and yet I have the faith that I will get what I’m aiming for.

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Go Go Passport Rangers!!

December 26, 2007 at 5:40 pm (Lucid Interval)

seven ako umalis ako ng opis kasi sabi ni Raiz na aking opismeyt eh mahaba na ang pila dun ng ganung oras. sarap na sarap pa naman ako sa panonood ng transformers da movie (salamat Pao! yodaman!!) sa aking makinang tagabilang, pero mahirap nang makipagsabayan sa halu-halong pawis, muta, sipon plema at putok sa kile-kile’t iba pang singit ng ibang tao. mabuti nang maamoy ko ang “maba-ngong” ako. baba ng bilding, para ng taksi. DFA po manong taxi.

After thirty mins ng pakikipaghututang dila kay manong taxi, ibinaba na niya ako sa tapat ng DFA, along Roxas. Ayos, may pila pero hindi ganung kahaba. maaga akong matatapos. pipila na dapat ako nang sigawan ako ng sekyu.
“Passport ka ba totoy? dun sa kabila un, hinde dito”
ako: “…ah…okey.”
suspicious looking character: “boss, passport po kayo, hindi dito, dun sa kanto pasok kayo dun.”
hindi ko pinansin.
“oi, boss, dun ha…”
diredirecho lang ako papunta dun sa sinabing direksyon nung sekyu kahit hindi ko pa talaga alam kung saan eksakto.
“kulit nito, boss dun oh..dun sabi eh”
“pota, huwag mo akong sundan!!! (with matching UST tiger look)”
matapos ko kasing maholdap ni ate at kuya holdaper, naging parte na sila ng aking puso’t isipan. sila ang dahilan kung bakit paranoid na ako pag may suspicious looking stranger sa paligid ko. alam ko namang fixer lang ung si totoy sunod, pero may daga pa rin ako sa dibdib.

eksaktong pagliku ko sa kanto, pagtaas ng aking mga mata ay tumambad sa akin ang isang tanawing halos ikahiwalay ng kaluluwa ko sa aking pisikal na sarili.
iba’t-ibang klase ng tao ang nasa tapat ng gate ng DFA. sari-saring mga manong at manang, kuya at ate. may baguhan na kagaya kong mang-mang, may sanay na sa pagpapabalik-balik at meron ding pabalik-balik na pero hindi pa rin alam kung ano ang tunay na proseso. may mukhang mabaho, may mabaho talaga, may libaging mabango up close and personal, may kagaya kong fresh…from night shift, may mandurukot, mukhang mandurukot, tindera ng hopyamanipopcornaatViiiicks!, may magjjapan, magbbrunei, magyayaya, maghohosto, kusinero, magbabakasyon, magbabakasakali. halu-halo talaga. lahat may layuning umalis ng bansa (except ako. hindi pa ngayon. mabuti lang na handa, I guess.) ay oo nga pala!! meron ding palang fixers.
tumpak: fixer. FIXER. F-I-X-E-R. kung may kinokonsider siguro ang Diyos dati na gawing hayop pero nag-iba ng isip at ipinasa na lang bilang tao, siguro ito ay ang mga hinayupak na fixers.
hindi naman sa hindi ko alam na may ganun sa DFA. bago pa nga lang ako pumunta, sinabi ko sa isip kong hindi ako makikipag-usap sa mga nasa labas. dun lang ako makikipag-usap sa mga nakabihis sekyu sa harap ng DFA. na hindi ko nagawa. kasi, kinonsidera kong security guard rin ung mga manong na mukhang taga-doon lang pero kuntodo bihis ng polo barong at black slacks with matching laminated na IDs at hawak na maliit na pat-pat. kahit kasi nasa labas sila eh hinaharap nila ung gustong pumasok sa loob, sinisita at tinuturo ung helera ng mga photocopy at picture-picture dun sa gilid ng gate. dun daw ang first step. (hint: hindi sapat na tingnan niyo lang ang ID sa malayo. Pansining mabuti. Ano ang inyong nakikita? Ellen’s PhotoShop! Hi I’m nonoy, may I help you?)

ako ay tanga. Oo naman ako kay manong “guard” at nagpasalamat pa sa matapat na pagtupad sa kanyang tungkuling lokohin ako. punta tuloy ako sa isang mainit na silungan sa gilid.
Ate frontdesk: fill-up niyo po itong application. may picture ka na?
Tanga: opo. (sabay abot ng pix)
Ate FD: ha? ikaw ba ito?
maliang size (ano naman ang koneksyon ng size sa hitsura??) hindi ikaw to eh.
Tanga: ako po yan.
ate FD: ang haba na ng buhok mo dito eh
Tanga: …hindeeee haaaa, kahapon lang ako nagpakuha niyan. (may halong kaba)
Ate FD: …hindi to puwede (sabay baba ng mga papel ko)
Tanga: …
Tanga: (alam ko na ang initial na katangahan ko) ah ganun ba? o e di magpapapiktyur ako seño!! o san ba? e di sige picture lang pala eh. Picture? Picture!!
Ate FD: (luminaw ang pagmumukha sabay smile) dun sa loob
labag man sa loob ko, hindi ko na ininda pang magpapictorial at mahuthutan ng karagdagang 155 pesos para sa mukha kong nasa papel. eight pieces.
isa lamang un sa series ng mga binayaran ko sa mainit na silunang iyon na may photocopy at photoexpress in one. meron ding bayad sa photocopy ng dokumentong, hindi ko naman napansin na kung saang may sabit sa puwet na kamay napunta. total gantso: 180

nandun ako, nag-iisa at naghahanap ng karamay. ikanga ng kaibigan kong si Gadia eh: Adversity breeds friendship.
Nakilala ko si Manong Arvy (sana eh tama ang rinig ko’t spell sa pangalan niya) sa silungan. nagpapicture rin pala siya dun at ung mga hinayupak ang nagstapler-staple at dikit-dikit ng mga picture niya sa mga karampatang lugar sa mga papel namin. matagal na raw niyang ginagawa un. magrrenew daw siya ng passport kasi aalis na ulit siya papuntang Libya. Cook raw siya. hindi ko na inintriga si Manong Arvs kung magaling ba siya talgang magluto dahil concern ko ngayon ang aking passport. ayos, sabi ko. ngayon sigurado akong tama itong tinatahak kong landas.
next stop daw namin ung agency dun sa orange na building, medyo malayo na sa DFA. lakad. lakad. usap. hututang dila sa buhay abroad. Welcome to Brave Travel Agency, where your money is our business.

ito na ang hardcore na part ng Passport experience ko. pagpasok na pagpasok, amoy ko na agad ang anomalya ng lugar na ito. si manong arvs naman eh mistulang sanay na sa mga nangyayari sa loob. maraming taong naka-upo, iniinterview, namumutla dahil kinukuwestiyon ang mga dokumento, daig pa US visa. talagang kung gusto mo ng total at ultimate power tripping, magtrabaho ka sa Brave Travel Agency. walang pakundangan ang mga “employees” dun. lolokohin ka na, pagttripan ka pa.
gayako na muntik nang matodohan.
isinama ako ni Manong Arvs (heretowith known as Manong Tanga x4 dahil pang-apat na balik na raw niya) sa isang desk.
Manang Desk: new passport po?
Semi Tanga: Opo.
Manang Desk: akinana ung documents niyo.
Semi T: (abot papeles)
Manang D: hmhuhmhuhm (tatak tatak) (ilan kaya mabibiktima namin, la lala lala). okay na po (sincere na ngiti kuno), dun na lang po sa cashier for 700 initial fee. bale po may balance pa pong 1,000 upon receipt of the passport. dito niyo na po kasi kukunin dahil kami na maglalakad.
Semi T: ahh…salamat po!
bayad 700. sulat resibo. hindi ko napansing nasa kanila pala ung resibo at hindi rin binigay sa akin (later ko pa malalaman). pagkatapos nito eh pinasunod nila ako sa isa pang desk kung saan mayroong dalawang lalaki “ag-eevaluate” ng papeles bago dalhin sa DFA. ung isa eh si Kuya Suave at Kuya LongHair. alam niyo na naman siguro ang dahilan kung bakit un ang pangalan nila. mahabang usapan. paliwanagan. wala po akong Jr. dyan kasi…pero…kahit na ganun po hindi pa rin puwede? Hinde sa lahat. Ang bottomline, kailangan kong magproduce ng affidavit para patunayang ako ung nasa photocopy ng UST id kong walang Jr. at ung applicant ng passport. kung ayaw ko raw lakarin, mas mabuti nang sila ang maglakad, 300 dalawang letra lang un at isang tuldok, pero malaki ang ikababago ng buhay mo!! Sige kayo na lang, sabi ko. Okei, sabi ni kuya suave. Ibigay ko na lang daw kay kuya longhair ang 300 pagbalik naming galing ng DFA. (after kasi sa Brave Travel eh sasamahan kami ni Kuya longhair sa DFA para i-assist sa pagpprocess.)

Total Gancho: 155+20 (photocopy)+700= 875

nakilala ko si Daisy dun sa second floor ng building dahil nagpapaphotocopy siya gaya ko ng ID bago pumuntang DFA kasama ni longhair. Hindi lang mukha ni Daisy ang mataray, talagang certified mataray pati asta at pananalita. Perfect, sabi ko. Nga pla, nung mga oras na un eh wala na si manong arvs dahil tapos na ang kanyang “application process”. Ika ko kay daiz, “bakit may processing sa labas ng DFA?”
“hindi ko nga rin alam eh. Sabi kasi ng kapatid ko wag makikipag-usap sa mga nasa labas ng DFA, direcho lang daw sa loob.”
“may kasama ko kaninang mama, matagal na raw niyang ginagawa ung pagpunta dito. Apat na beses na nga raw eh.”
“ewan ko, pero naghihinala pa rin ako”
“ako rin eh”
Habang nag-uusap kami nito eh sumasabad ung si neneng photocopy ng “licensed naman po ng DFA ung mga agency eh. Katulad rin po nila kami” hindi namin siya pinapansin.
DFA here we come! Habang nasa daan, narinig ko ang isang tinig sa megaphone na paulit-ulit sa kanyang mensahe.

“Paunawa po sa lahat ng applikante. Huwag po kayong makikipag-ugnayan sa mga tao na nasa labas ng DFA. Dumirecho lamang po tayo sa guard at ilabas ang inyong dokumento at tuloy-tuloy po tayo sa court sa loob. Maraming salamat po.”

Moment of illumination. Ang absolute ng mensahe. Short but simple rule, isang sampal sa katalinuhan ko. Narealize ko kung gaano ako…alam niyo na ang susunod.
Habang papasok, nag-uusap-usap kami ni daizy at iba pang biktima. Nag-isip. Naghaka-haka. Conflict of the story.
Taray mode si daisy; kalmado lang kaming tatlong lalaki pero bukas ang tenga at mabilis ang mga mata sa kung anong mangyayari. Sinunod-sunod ni Daisy si Kuya LH. Talak. Tanong. Suspecha.
Para matapos ang usapan, sabi ni LH, eh i-pullout na lang namin ung application. Na siya naman naming ginawa.
Balik ng Brave, direcho sa cashier (na by the way ay ngongo pala. Grabe, ngongo na nga, kasabwat pa sa ganitong gawain.)

Daisy the Group Leader: MISS. Mag-ppullout na kami ng application.
Ate NGO: Hnga? Ngullout? Ngasan ngesibo niyo?
Daisy the GL: Wala di ba, hindi niyo binigay sa amin? Nasaan na????…!!!
Ate NGO: (medyo nagulat but maintains composure) …ngandun sa ngakamink!
Daisy the GL: ano? Nakapink?
Semi Tanga: Oo, dun sa ngakamink!! (first time kong nangiti sa buong experience na ito)

Punta kami sa ngakamink. Hiningi namin ung resibo namin. Kunwari ay nagbisi-bisihan ang drama ng best actress na mukhang nasa menopausal stage na. may hawak na logbook ung ngakamink, at sa isang kamay naman niya eh ung mga resibo naming (natanaw ko kasi ung resibo nung kasama naming isa. Hindi ko tanaw ung pangalan, pero alam ko ung kurba nung sulat niya dahil kasunod ko lang siya kanina). Inipit ung mga resibo sa ngagbuk ngapos tumayo sa desk niya dala ung ngagbuk.

Hindi alam ni manang ngakamink, sinundan ko siya sa loob, doon sa initial na pinagdalhan sa akin. Iniabot niya ung logbook sa kasama niya- si aling nene (later ko pa malalaman pangalan niya)- at bumalik na sa desk, hindi ako napansing sumunod. Saktong ipapasa naman ni aling nene (mahiya siya. Lola na siya tapos manggagantso pa rin siya) kay totoy binatilyo with young mustache ung logbook (na sa tingin ko’y para itago) pero bago niya magawa iyon eh nakita kong inginuso na ako ni totoy binatilyo kay aling nene sabay lingon naman sa akin ng hitad na matanda.

Sakto naman nun eh dumating naman ung rest ng power rangers at hinahanap this certain person who goes by the name of “Nene”.

Red power Ranger este Daisy the GL: ASAN SI ALING NENE????
Semi Tangang Ranger: heto si aling nene, ung pinagpasahan ng resibo nung ngakamink!!!

In short, walang nagawa ang halimaw sa lakas at determinasyon ng mighty morphin passport rangers!! Ops, ops, hindi jan nakaipit ung resibo namiiiin, you naughty grandma! Ayun oh, ung makapal, ni hindi nga resibo ung hawak mo eh.

“may 100 pesos charge para sa service fee.”
Bago pa sumabog si Daisy eh pinigilan ko na’t nagrationalize na lang ako, para wala nang gulo

“sige na, okay na un. Pinagkaabalahan naman nila tayo ng oras eh, tama na un. Sige na, 600”

Sa hinaba haba ng tinagal ng oras naming dun, nabawi rin namin sa wakas ung 600 namin. Sabay-sabay na dapat ang passport rangers ng pagpunta sa DFA pero kinailangan ko pang magpagawa ng affidavit dahil wala ngang Jr. ung isa kong papel (which later on ay nalaman kong wala naman palang problema un, dahil iba kami ng middle initial ng tatay ko.)

Total Gantso: 875 -600= 275-155 (dahil nabawi ko naman ung pix ko)= 120

Maaliwalas sa loob ng DFA, di katulad sa Brave na nangangakong magiging maayos ang proseso ng application ko. 45 minutes lang ay natapos ako. Total na bayad sa loob ng DFA ay 500, plus 180 na home delivery charge dahil ayoko nang bumalik dun. July 14, asahan ko raw na nasa palad ko na ang aking pasaporte.
Thankful na rin ako pagkatapos ng experience kong ito kanina. Buti na lang at hindi ako natodohan ng organized na panggagantso na itow.

Sanaay may napulot kayong aral sa aking munting katangahan. Hanggang sa susunod na pagbblag!
(closing muzak: Babalik ka rin)

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Fellatio ng Malakanyang

December 26, 2007 at 3:39 pm (Poetry)

Sam(Originally posted in http://tulang1017.blogspot.com/ as a protest against GMA’s Presidential Proclamation 1017. This Filipino form of poetry, called Tanaga is similar to the Japanese Haiku only that it’s measured in seven syllables and four lines.) 

Si Big Brother may bading
Sa bahay humalinghing
Ang palasyo may Gloria
Kalayaa’y hinada

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Celebrities

December 26, 2007 at 2:45 pm (Lucid Interval)

SamA conversation between a co-trainee and our trainer earlier:

Co-trainee: Mina, has someone told you that you look like Anne Curtis?

Mina: Yeah… (caught off guard) Do I look like I’m happy about it?

It reminded me of Lourd De Veyra’s fhm interview wherein his answer to the question, “Who is your pet peeve?” was, “Sam Milby. Kung alam mong guwapo ka, ‘wag ka nang magpa-cute, nakakaasar lang eh.”

Lourd                     Sam   Sam

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A Bad Investment

December 26, 2007 at 2:32 am (Book Material)

There was once a Yuppie who had become one of the bigwigs in the local financial industry. Barely five years after graduating and full of energy, was he blessed with the body of a tall and strong athlete, a square manly face with piercing eyes and all the success in almost everything which he had invested his time in to. What he lacked in experience in his field was always compensated by his physical attributes.  His usual prospects were matured women at the early dusk of their lives, sometimes a widow, oftentimes separated from their husbands. He would always lure them to signing up by using his skills in seducing women and his famously huge penis that –more often than not– everything boils down into a raunchy yet sometimes tender sex, or whatever the madam requested. Cougars may be the better term nowadays and he may be the budding cub, but definitely not the prey. 

And with every success, money easily flowed in.  There was nothing to stop him. The Yuppie had as much appetite in working harder each day as to gorging himself in a feast of sexual pleasure almost each night. Who could blame him? He was a bachelor without any commitments, as free as a proud lion patiently waiting for his next prey. One time, he even had the chance to have four beautiful young women in his pad. They did not know each other but only he knew at least of their names, for they all came up to him expressing their interest to experience his adroitness in bed and his huge dick. He would often use this episode as a joke among his peers. “There were so many limbs protruding in the dark, the Hindus were praying at us!” he often quipped. 

After working hours, he would usually head for cavorting watering holes. He would always have the best seat inside for he had become friends with the owners. But he did not usually stay for long, because within an hour, a waiter would approach him with a drink bought by some lady or ladies from the other table. This was always the sign for him to size up the generous buyers and if all things were okay, he would take them to his bed and harvest their willing and blooming flesh. But for all of these luxuries and pleasure, he still felt something was missing…something he had not achieved. 

It began one night when he was teaching some girl he met in the club one of the hardest phases of female adolescence. She was still tight and her teeth often scraped around his manhood, but she was not difficult for him to conquer. After close to an hour of teaching the art of making love, he became proud of her as she gradually forgot about the searing pain between her thighs and started working her way up and down faster every second to both their satisfaction. After this, she kissed him fervently and uttered, “Thanks, Kuya, now I can teach my boyfriend.”             

And so he found himself one typical evening in one of those places. The booze was overflowing, there were many gorgeous ladies frolicking and at least three of them made the first move. But he did not wish to stay for any longer –try as he might– for the unexplained void inside of him was constantly eating up his mind and soul. Then just as he formally decided to call it a night, he saw her at a distance.    

The very glance at her made him stare and probe at the divine sight for more details. Her hair, black as the innocent night, was waist-long. He couldn’t see her face from where he sat so he stood up and clambered up at another bar stool, his eyes still transfixed on her. And he was not disappointed. Unlike the other women he penetrated before, she had the face of an innocent, wingless angel brought down from the heavens; her skin as white as the clouds from where she must have come from. He felt a familiar warmth between his legs as he gazed down further into her fine breasts that were half concealed and were creating a deep vertical chasm in the middle. He instantly imagined himself lost in that chasm as he sought her hidden treasures with his tongue. Finally, her overall black sleeveless dress fell just above her knees, revealing a pair of slender, ivory legs. And between those legs, he knew he would find the most precious pearl.  For the first time for so long, he felt more than the urge to conquer another woman’s body. And so just as he decided to call it a night, he was enamored of her.            

Situations like this usually wrapped up shortly and favorably for him. He would prowl around the prey while looking at it with all malice and lust his eyes could muster. One stare and the willing victim would give back a smile and a slight but evident blush. He would then intentionally walk towards the lady and would accidentally let his shoulders touch the supple breasts lightly or if it was a crowded bar, his front against her back. But it seemed that he forgot all what experience had taught him. He –one of whom Adam would have been very proud of among his race– suddenly became a little boy thirsty for milk instead of nipples.            

Nevertheless, one thing was clear on his mind: he would have her tonight.       

An old flame of excitement and adventure was rekindled inside of him. Glasses of martinis made it burned bigger and he started strategizing how to get her attention. He knew she saw him staring at her with his usual grin and intense eyes but she seemed to ignore him, just like the rest of the men. He also noticed that she was alone and looked very close to be bored amidst the pounding beat of the music, just contented of sipping her drink from a straw he imagined as his penis as she stroke it along its length. But enough about the visions! The fact that he had been denied made his ego grow bigger like a fiercer warrior after a limb had been cut off. Now he was more determined to have and fuck her…and know her better afterwards, this time around.             

Should he approach and rub himself against her like a crazy animal marking a territory? No, there was a prerequisite to do that and the lady did not eat the bait. There was one way he wished he did not resort into doing though –for he was too proud to do so–  but thought it may just work well to get the end that he wanted. Besides, it cost only a few hundred bucks.           He observed as the waiter approached her with a glass of margarita. Her lovely face proved to be slightly startled but immediately understood the situation. The waiter pointed at the Yuppie’s direction and left while the lady in the black dress with the waist-long hair, angelic face, supple, half exposed white breasts and ivory legs with the most precious white pearl between them turned at his direction only with a blank face, the margarita untouched in front of her.            

There was a brief awkward moment as their eyes met–  him, with a smile across his face and her, with an unresponsive countenance. At last she broke the connection but not to his relieve when he saw her stood up and made her way into the middle of the dancing crowd. Just as she vanished, he got up to his feet as well, much more unwavering than ever to talk to her.              

He followed her past the crowd to the back of the other bar where some women waited in line for their turn to piss. He was directly behind her now, clearing his throat but unsure of what to say when suddenly she turned around, grabbed his softening crotch and french-kissed him. There were kinky laughs and hushed whistles along the aisle but the two did not seem to mind, especially him, as his penis started to grow back what with all the caresses of the angel’s hand. She spoke to him. “I don’t drink margarita. But I can have you”.            

They kissed intensely in front of his condominium door, impatient to arrive at his bed. As he pushed the key inside the hole, his other hand proved futile to cover her huge, supple breasts. His fingers playfully squeezed her nipples though, while she felt his stiffness inside which was already wet with her saliva when they drove home. As they approached the room, he recollected his thoughts about the women he had encountered before. He was sure this was going to be the best. He smiled at the thought that he may have well met his match. His grin turned suddenly into an expression of surprised pleasure and all that he could utter was the most important vowel of the night as she started to put his whole manhood inside her mouth. She did that for a couple of minutes much to his bliss and was only cut short when she stood up, took off her clothes, revealing her beautiful vagina and climbed on the bed and said, “Now eat me”. He dutifully followed her orders and he was actually motivated by the fruity scent. His hands supported her butt as she gyrated her waist around his face. He knew he was doing a good job because of the satisfactory expression on her face and moans but she did not utter a single syllable. In fact, she was not a noisy partner at all. In all his adventures in bed, all of his partners screamed of how good he was, and often requested faster and harder and to put it inside me now please, but this flesh in his face seemed to be, enjoying it, yes, but more in control of what it wanted. There was a sudden jolt of her thighs and his mouth received the first gush of her nectar. She received him inside with much warmth. He was in nirvana and their mouths found each other once again as he pushed himself inside her, harder and faster every minute as he felt his impending explosion. As he neared his climax, he could not control himself anymore and uttered the most dreadful words.            

“The fuck, you love me? What’s that about?”, she said as she pulled herself away from him. His penis still spewed wads of semen on his stomach and he could not believe of what he just said more than her reaction.

“You’re fucked up, I’m going.”

The cunt left. He wiped himself clean and lit a cigarette. His wood was now gone but he realized that an angel left a bigger hole in his soul.                                                               

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I Think God Can Explain by Splender

December 25, 2007 at 8:41 am (Scala Thoughts)


There’s a lot of things I understand
And there’s a lot of things
That I don’t want to know
But you’re the only face I recognize
It’s so damn sweet of you
To look me in the eyes
Chorus:
It’s alright, I’m okayI think God can explain
I believe I’m the sameI get carried away
It’s alright, I’m okayI think God can explain
I’m relieved, I’m relaxedI’ll get over it, yeahYeah…

The scent of vaselineIn the summer time
The feel of an ice cube
Melting overtime
Well, the world seems bigger
Than both of us
Yet it seems so small
When I begin to cry

(Chorus)

I’m so much better than you guessed
I’m so much bigger than you guessed
I’m so much brighter than you guessed

Yeah…It’s alright, I’m okay
I think God can explain
I believe I’m the sameI get carried away
It’s alright, I’m okayI think God can explain
I’m relieved, I’m relaxedI’ll get over your back…
I think God can explain
I think God can explain
I think God can explain

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The Armani Attitude

December 25, 2007 at 7:53 am (Book Material)

(first published in The UST Commerce Journal Magazine 2006)

Standard Chartered Bank, 8 a.m.

Three hundred sixty-seven pesos and fifty-five centavos. The figures flashed before my face against the blue screen of the ATM, and it spelled to me that I would not have a few decent days to live by. So much for budgeting, I mumbled, as I took my card back in my wallet. Three hundred sixty seven and fifty five cents! If I needed to survive the next few days before the 28th, I had to stretch those three digits and two decimal places up to its maximum value. I meant to withdraw some money but thought otherwise. Besides, I still had enough in my pocket to spend. I stepped out of the bank sighing, but not losing hope. It had been a long day and I needed some rest. So I started walking towards the tunnel, to the other side of the road, wearing my usual sneakers, jeans and polo shirt – my office attire.

Eight in the morning was sure late – at least for me. Working on a night shift really had changed a lot in me, especially when I saw the people in blazers and long sleeves with neckties and suitcases, “busy as a bee”, and walking ninety kilometers per hour (like asteroids that never collide) to beat the clock and heavy traffic. Had I experienced this just after I graduated, I would put up a bitter smile with my face looking at the pavement as I walk the along the hot and dry Ayala Avenue. It was my childhood dream, you see – to be able to wear business attires, probably Armani suits with a nice convertible car for a ride.

It has been more than a year now since I graduated from UST and still, I do not have a single Armani suit, and not even a unicycle as my “cool” ride. Instead, I wear civilian clothes while taking jeepney rides to and fro my work. All the things that I imagine to be doing while in that classy suit are totally different from what I am doing now. I do not shout “Sell!” or “Buy!” in my job. I am not also made to conceptualize for the next hit commercial or novel product. Instead, I have struggled my way to get a job in one of my preferred companies with decent pay for fresh grads. I work in a fixed ten in the evening till six in the morning shift; reading company press releases and squeezing my brains oftentimes to analyze the things you still would not understand as a student (try as I may to explain).

It came to me that the “real world” has welcomed me with a kick in the stomach and a slap across the face. But I do not whine anymore about my career (or life for that matter). Instead, I just smile and say “thank you”.

I bet all of us have an ambition – a vision of what we would like to be in the future. Mine was deeper than wearing an Armani. It is just a representation of the status it connotes to having to wear one, like power, high skills and success. But ambition is more than just a dream; it is a carefully planned one. That is why at some point in our lives, we go to college, choose a major and learn something on which we can be called successful on in the future. I guess if we only live in a “ceteris paribus” world, things will be easier. We study hard, we succeed. We study harder, succeed even more!

Sad to say, but we live in a place that is full of probability, consequences and unfairness. Things here cannot be solved by a simple one plus one, or by finding the variables for X and Y. Most times, there is no formula for a straight line. Most times, we struggle so hard but just fail without even grace. This can be further summarized as the law of the real world in three words: DEAL WITH IT.

But take heart, because not all things are bad when you are on your own. Yes, there may be things that we might not have or achieve, but it should not keep us from hoping that someday, somehow that “we can”. Ate Jenny, my former Editor-in-Chief, said in one of her articles that life throws us many pairs of shoes to try on. I agree. And also, it might be quite disappointing to learn that the “shoe” we desire do not fit us, but maybe we should just realize that perhaps in due time, we will grow just for it. Better yet, we will outgrow it and we can now fit in to a bigger “pair”. All it takes is patience, determination and faith in God and our capabilities.

I may not be trading stocks and commodities or drafting a SWOT analysis of a company or product, but I still do my work with diligence, commitment and best efforts – as if I am in my Armani. I have come to love the terms of it, and how it sometimes makes me want to split my head apart. For now, I realize that I have to prove to myself that I can do the things I am tasked to do, to prepare myself for the bigger things that will come my way. Do not dream more than we can actually do because we cannot reach greater heights without first stretching our limits. Remember: People will judge you by your work and not by your words alone. So do not be discouraged if you do not have a CPA, ENGR. ATTY. and other titles on either side of your name. It does not automatically mean that we will succeed in life if we have one. More importantly, that does not mean you are lesser of a person, and them, superior, for learning does not stop after college (and I am not talking about graduate studies specifically). You may even learn a lot of valuable things only you can teach to yourself.

As for me, the numbers under my name may increase into millions or decrease into zit. I may or may not wear an actual suit, and I might be a commuter forever. But they do not matter as of the moment. For as long as I do the right things, the chances of achieving my dreams in this non-ceteris paribus world have just increased, thanks to my Armani attitude.

  

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Quarter Life Crisis

December 25, 2007 at 7:44 am (Lucid Interval)

  

When you’re in your 20’s and feel purposeless, a book won’t really help you.

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Ano Palayaw Mo?

December 25, 2007 at 7:16 am (Book Material)

Chuy ang palayaw ko. Bunso ako dati sa magkakapatid kaya naging bunsuy, na naging Unsoy na pinabango ko lang nung college kaya’t ako’y naging Chuy. Ang totoong Chuy ay si Renante Nudo, kaklase ko noong elementary. Pasensya na lang sa kanya at hindi niya naipa-patent ang palayaw niya. Hindi niya rin alam hanggang ngayon na ginamit ko ang palayaw niya. Belat. Karamihan sa atin ay may palayaw. Si Michael ay nagiging Mike. Si Isabella ay nagiging Isay at si Renato, dahil napakatandang pakinggan ng kanyang pangalan, ay nagiging Nate (ayaw niya ng Nato, yuckie!!). Dito sa looban, hindi batid ng karamihan ang tunay na pangalan ng isa’t-isa. Madalas ay nalalaman lang namin ang tunay na pangalan, kunwari ay ni Mang Kardo, ‘pag natigok na siya. Mababasa ko na lang sa isang malapad na ribbon na naka-pin sa itim na trapal ang isang “Enrico Ricardo Fernandez” at ang lugar na kanyang pinagbuburulan. Wala pala kaming Mang Kardo dito, pero at least nakuha mo ang ibig kong sabihin. Pero sige, eto: may pinsan akong namatay, tawag sa kanya dito ay Enteng. Real name: Vincent.Ang mga sumusunod ay ilan lamang sa palayaw ng aking kapit-bahay, kasama na ang kanilang katangian.

1. Codename Mang Texas: Matagal na itong character sa aming looban, pero hanggang ngayon e hindi ko pa rin mapinpoint kung sino siya. basta legendary itong si Mang
Texas at lagi ko na lang naririnig dati na pinaguusapan ng mga tatay ko si Mang
Texas.

2. Codename Itik: Si Mang Vic, tatay ni Ton-ton Noo. Hindi ko alam kung bakit Mang Itik ang tawag sa kanya. May myth dati na mahilig siya sa pagkain ng itik, pero hindi ako naniniwala. Hindi naman siya mukhang itik. Ah ewan.

3. Mel Paa: matangkad si Mang Mel Paa. Paa ang shorter version ng nickname niya. Ang cute no? bagay siyang mag-kristo sa mga senakulo kasi long hair rin itong si Paa. Malakas rin ang sense of humor. Jesus Christ with a punchline, astig! Siya rin pala ang takbuhan ng mga tao kapag problemang kuryente na ang pag-uusapan. Magaling siyang magkabit ng kuntador, magkumpuni ng linya ng kuryente pag alis ng meralco at uminom. One of the loyal friends ng tatay ko, if I may add.

4. Boy Paos: Patay na si Mang Boy Paos, pero hindi ko pa rin malilimutan ang kanyang ginintuang boses. Boy Paos ang tawag namin sa kanya kasi, uhm…paos siya magsalita. Hindi ko alam kung hereditary yun, pero hindi na bumalik sa normal ang boses niya. Malamang nga na iyon na ang normal na boses niya. Naalala ko dati, nalimutan kong wala palang brake ang bike ko. Tapos pagliko ko eh nandun si Paos at nasalpok ko, head on collision. Hindi siya makasigaw kasi Paos nga siya. Hehe, I like that guy.

5. Bogart: hindi ito ang tunay na pangalan ni bogart at misteryo pa rin kung ano talaga ang birthname niya. Mula pagkabata eh hindi ko na nakitang may suot na kamiseta itong si mang bogart. Laging siyang hubad sa pang-itaas at ibinibilad ang kanyang sandamakmak na tato sa katawan. May tato rin pala siya ng mga naging babae sa buhay niya, with matching replica ng mga mukha nila. I must say magaling ang taste niya sa babae. Si aling Brenda na kanyang balo eh nandun rin, siya ung nasa bandang puso. How sweat!!!

6. Pepay: hindi kikay si Mang Pepay at siya ay isang mama, napaka-ironic sa kanyang kikay na pangalan. Malaking mama si Pepay, at may gintong cast ang kanyang isang ngipin sa kaliwa. Laging malinis sa katawan itong si Mang Pepay. Mukha pa siyang suplado, pero mabait naman kapag nakahututan dila mo na. last na update ko sa kanya e hiwalay na sila ng asawa niya at may kinakasama na siyang iba. Tsk tsk tsk…

7. Boy Bulag: Siya ang asawa ni Jenny, ang object ng mga “baho” jokes ng mga bata sa amin. Well, you guessed it right! Bulag si Boy, thus the nickname. Masigasig sa buhay itong si Bulag. Kahit maralita at hindi nakapagtapos, sa malinis na paraan pa rin niya kinukuha ang perang pang-tongits ng asawa niya at pagkain ng mga anak niya. Last update ko eh kinuha siyang janitor ng elementary school ko dati.

8. Dyablo: tito ko si Dyablo or Uncle Dyab sa aming magpipinsan. Hindi kami close nitong si Uncle Dyab pero wala naman kaming masamang tinapay sa isa’t-isa. Bihira na siya pumunta sa compound namin, pero nung dating madalas eh paborito niyang gawin ang tumae sa kahit saang bahay ng mga kapatid niya. Ang asawa niya ngayon ay kanyang ginapang dati. Bente taon mahigit ang agwat nila. He’s my man!! May sipa pa si Uncle Dyab. At may asim pa (literally) 9. Puso: isa sa mga kababata ko itong si Puso. Edward ang tunay na pangalan niya. Puso kasi isa siyang blue baby o ung mga taong may butas sa puso.
Para siyang anak ni mr. shooli kasi singkit at mukhang laging basag sa droga kung magsalita. Nakakatuwang bata itong si Puso kasi off-beat ang sense of humor, kaya astig siya. Namatay na pala si Puso. Guess why?
 

10. Joy Bukol: isa rin si Joy sa mga kababata ko, although mas bata siya sa akin. Nung bata pa ako’t may uhog sa ilong, si Joy ang favorite na tampulan ng tukso ng mga bata, lalung lalo na ni Ricking anak ni Aling Martina. Galit na galit si Joy sa tuwing sinasabihan siyang Bukol! Bukol! Bukol! Hindi naman lampayatot si Bukol. Lampa lang tlaga ito dati at laging nadadapa nang mag-isa, nauuntog sa mga bahay-bahayan at buro sa tumbang preso.

11. Jun Payat: pinsan ng tatay ko si Tito Jun Payat. Matangkad na tao rin ito, mas matangakad pa kay Paa. Lahat ng mga anak niya eh nagmana sa height ng tatay nila. Matangkad man, sobrang payat naman niya. Isa siyang perfect example ng stick man. Mahilig rin palang maggitara si tito jun. un lang.

12. Boy Bicol: hehe, secret lang natin itow. Si mang boy bicol eh kalapit-bahay lang namin, kahit taga-bicol siya. nasa itaas ng gripo namin sa labas ang bintana ni mang boy bicol. Isang hapon na maghuhugas ako ng bigas para isaing, may narinig akong mga impit na iyak mula sa bintanang un. Tumuntong ako sa gripo at sumilip. Laking gulat ko nang makita kong inaararo ng halik ni mang Bicol ang kasama nila sa bahay ng asawa niya!!! Dose anyos ako nun kaya medyo alam kong hindi lang isang klase ng laro ang ginagawa nila. After how many years ko na lang nalaman na pamangkin pala iyon ng kanyang asawa. Hiwalay na si Mang Boy Bicol at yung asawa niya. Nagasasama na ngayon si Mang Boy Bicol at kanyang pamangakin este bagong asawa.

13. Neneng Tiwang: kahit na ganito ang tawag ng ilan sa tita ko (pinsan ng tatay ko) eh may paggalang ako kay Ate Ne…neeeng tiwang Dati nung bata ako eh takot ako sa kanya kasi nga ang pangalan niya eh tiwang meaning: baliw o sira ang ulo. Ngayong sira-ulo na rin ako’y nagkakaintindihan na kami.

14. Ton-ton Noo: si ton-ton noo ang pinakasikat na bata sa amin dati. Paano ba nman, after weeks na nawala siya, natagpuan si Ton-ton sa kung saang lupalop ng Pilipinas at dinala sa studio ni ate luds. Eye to eye man!!! Instant celebrity si Ton-Ton at nanay niya nung pinakita sila sa channel seven, dun sa lost and found portion ng eye to eye. Uhm, malaki pa rin hanggang ngayon ang noo ni ton-ton na parang may sariling buhay.

15. Nineng Muta: asar na asar ako sa kapatid ko dati kapag tinutukso ako kay Nineng Muta. Bakit? Ang tantalizing kasi ng mga mata ni Nine. Kumikinang kasi sa sikat ng araw ang kanyang mina ng mga muta sa mata. Hardcore man! Kung may nakapasok sigurong buhangin sa mata ni nine, ngayon eh perlas na ito.            Palayaw man o tunay na pangalan, kilala namin ang isa’t-isa bilang kapit-bahay, noon man o hanggang sa ngayon. Sana lang ay laging may nakapaskil na itim na trapal sa bukana ng aming looban, para malaman namin kung sino si Francisco Alejandro Santibañez ‘Y Zaragoza – Si Boy Bote ba ‘to o si Dodong Tulak (ng shabu)

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