A Brighter Future

Sometimes, when melancholy grips you, it grips you like it's the end of the world. Sometimes, when you think of the good things you've lost, you lose the reason and the sense why you lost the good things in the first place. All is left in the realm of conjecture, of the what ifs.

Until you focus and try to remember the well-thought of logic behind the actions. Until the associated aches and stress once more comes to fore.

Then you begin the process again. You filter out the what ifs, and hold on to the facts. Cold and hard. Like a splash of cold water in a sleeping facade.

So you realize the eventuality. The reality. And the future.

Which should start in the now. Right here. At this moment. To forget the less worthy lessons of the past, and to continue the legacy of the right.

By then, you will have realized how the world works. How it moves on despite the seemingly insurmountable suffering. And that as a result thereof, you are a better person.

And it's a brighter future.

Twisted

Passing by the City of Tagbilaran in Bohol reminded me so much of my hometown. The way I used to see it. In the eyes of a child taking everyting in, acknowledging every wonder that each story brings.

I have often told myself, I'm never going back to San Pablo. I can't work in the suburbs when the whole city is waiting for me to seize every moment. But somehow, being in a place free from the noise pollution, free from neon lights that obstruct our vision of the stars, somehow, being here makes me rethink my decisions.

Perhaps, I do need to return to San Pablo. If only to quiet my restless soul. If only to find myself once more.

Perhaps, Bohol is there to unknot my twisted soul. So that, once and for all, I'll see the path where I need to go.

Madness

There is madness in deleting memories. Especially if it were a person’s memory you’re deleting. Worse, if it were someone special’s memory you’re forgetting.

It flashes quite distinctly every so often, the glimpses of the past. On the way to the trash, it comes to fore. Looming over your eyes, threatening with a resounding echo of what you’re about to lose.

Until it disappears. With the conscious effort of not remembering. Leaving the pain behind, convincing disillusion on the happiness. Suddenly, what once was, is no longer.

There is madness in deleting memories.

And sometimes, it has to be done.

Waiting

Last week, when I wrote this entry, seemed so long ago. Nothing and everything has changed since then. I suppose this is the fate that has always been written for me. I just didn't want to accept it. Now, I have to.

It's just that, sometimes, it is difficult to imagine life more cruel than this.

---

So I'm here in PGH, waiting, again. I have often wondered how it will be if I didn't choose this life with that someone. Will I be happier? More fulfilled with my life? Will I have more friends? These are questions that are all subsumed in the realm of conjecture. All that I will have no way of knowing. That is,

until I break free.

Totally. Completely.

That kind when I could look back at all these and laugh at how consumed I was with how I felt. That kind when I would neither feel hurt nor bitterness. That kind when I would already be with someone else.

But I haven't reached that stage. And I could not see how I could in the near future. And so, I'm here.

Waiting. And waiting. And waiting.

Sana may dumating na.

In dreams

So I dreamt of him again last night, my dad. And like the others before, the dream wasn't pretty. Something almost always happens which is reminiscent of how he used to be. With one difference: I always fought back in my dreams. And I always win. How I envisioned myself acting now that I can stand on my own feet is how the dreams end. It's sort of a major production finale--except that he's no longer around to see how it turned out.

Which bothers me.

After 7 long years, am I still clinging to a hatred I swore I would forego all these years? Was I in that much pain that, until now, the feeling lingers, albeit subconsciously?

He died 7 years ago. And after 7 years, I know I should now forego all these.

The only question is, could I?

Good Morning

I still greet you good morning everyday--even if you don't get to hear it anymore. Not lately, at least. I recognize the fact that it has been difficult for us both to start something anew, if both of us still had strings hanging in our old lives. I do not blame you, really, nor do I blame myself. It is what it is. The fates have brought our paths together and it is only the same fate that shall determine our future--be it together or not. I believe, our timing could not have been more significant--nor as destructive. We met each other at a time when we both dearly needed people to hold on to--yet it was also a time when we both knew we cannot hold on for long.

And so we let ourselves get swayed by the tides; and patiently waited where the water will lead us.

Not knowing it was leading us here--where there is no us. Where there could never be an us.

Now, as I look back to our time together, I see it was time spent healing our broken hearts, washing away the pain of our experiences, and mending that part of ourselves that was ripped apart. But like disinfectants to a raw wound, we were there merely to pass each other by, to touch just a small part of each other's lives. With no purpose of staying. With no capability of being attached.

So the good mornings I give you shall never reach your ears, the heartfelt thanks I feel for you, you will never know. But if, in the future, you do remember me, and think about those brief moments we were together, know this: you will forever be the one that ushered me to a new life, one where I have moved on, and for that, a million good mornings will never ever suffice.

Good morning, K. And thank you.

Discombobulated

How come happy faces pervade the whole gamut of pictures posted in social networking sites all over the net? Where are those that highlight the hurt that any one of us may feel at any given time? Where are the emotions that pierce the veil of our contoured countenances? I want to get real. I want to feel what I feel intently. I no longer want to deny and hide. This whole dance of breaking up and making up is making me tired. And hurt. But it also makes me realize why I always go back in the first place. The closest friend that I have says it's merely a phase. It's just a habit that needs breaking. A conglomeration of safe routines established in a span of less than a year. But I miss the sweet banoffee pie, the hot chocolates, and the late night cuddling that lasted the whole night. Yet it may never happen again. In fact, it nearly never happened. It is the fear of the unknown, of the separation that brought it about in the first place. It is one incoherent stream of colors dancing along a wide spectrum that I could not even begin to grasp and accept.

I am scared and afraid.

Bob Ong

"Alam mo ba kung gaano kalayo ang pagitan ng dalawang tao pag nagtalikuran na sila? Kailangan mong libutin ang buong mundo para lang makaharap ulit ang taong tinalikuran mo."

To be in and out of love...

Excerpts from…

WHEN YOU FALL IN LOVE

(Debunking The Myths That Are Driving You Crazy)

By Bo Sanchez

You start blaming your partner for the loss of love. This is nutty. But many people do it: when we don't feel in love, we think it's the fault of the other person. And so we fight him. Again, we fall out of love because we're human beings. It's nobody's fault. The moment you fall out of love, the real work begins . Let me explain. This is the most important point I'm going to make. (I got this from Scott Peck in his bestseller book, The Road Less Traveled).

Falling in love isn't love. Here's why. When you fall in love…

No decision is required. Falling in love just happens.

No effort is required. Falling in love is like…. well, falling.

No hard work is required. Falling in love is being bitten by the love bug.

On the other hand, true love requires all three : Decision, effort and lots of hard work. In the Bible, love is a command. You make it happen. Sure true love can only happen after you've fallen out of love. When you begin choosing to love, even if you don't feel like doing it — that's true love. And that's the foundation of a lasting marriage.

---

College, when I first learned to love, seems like a long long time ago. Now, years later, I still believe in the same thing. I love. And I hope it would never change.

OMG!

It's the anniversary of the Gossip Boy Series!

Ang bilis ng panahon!

Repost

From JM's site...

---

Yung taong may pangarap para sa aming dalawa

Pangarap kong mahalin ang taong isa ako sa mga nasa listahan ng priority niya..

Yung suplado sa iba dahil alam niyang magseselos ako..

Yung walang ibang bukambibig kundi pangalan ko..

Yung kakamustahin ang araw ko kahit na paulit ulit at pare-pareho lang ang mga nangyayari..

Yung hindi kayang matulog hanggat galit ako..

Yung taong hindi ako kayang bigyan ng dahilan para magduda..

Yung interesado maging parte ng buhay ko..

Yung taong may pangarap para sa aming dalawa..

Pero ang pinakagusto ko, yung taong hindi alam ang salitang sorry dahil hindi niya kayang masaktan ako.

-forwarded text.

In the here and now

Right here, right now, waiting. It's a judgment I never want to hear. It's a hearing I never want to be judged. I know my worth, but I also know what I've done, and what I am continuing to do. Yes, I am part of this group, but it's a part I so reluctantly want to own. One day, two days, three months, four years. All are part of an inconceivable plan that I cannot foresee, nor forego.

I don't know what to do.

Fear

But what of the fact that you are 

with another almost all of the time? Will I 

be firm enough to withstand this 

most crucial stage? If I can't, then 

everything will most certainly crumble. 

All will fail. And dissolve 

into nothingness. From which it came. And 

to which, 

it might eventually end.

My Humble Home

I was surfing the boob tube when I chanced upon this travel show in TV 5, Travel on a Shoestring. I got interested when the host, from the very start of the show, mentioned how there are lots of places that one can go to with a budget of just under five thousand bucks.

Being the cheapskate that I sometimes purport myself to be, I decided to give the show a chance to wow me. And wowed was I when I realized the place they were doing a review on was my one and only hometown, San Pablo City.

It's so weird watching a review of my own hometown. For one, it makes me think why, despite my 17 years in San Pablo, I haven't been to all of those places that they went to. For another, none of any of those featured in TV seem to be the way they really are in real life.

For instance, the inn that the host stayed in for two nights is just across the grade school that I went to. And despite studying in that place for nine years, not once have I seen how it looks like inside. My impression of the place has always been one that is frequented by people of questionable professions. I was surprised, greatly I might add, to discover how homey it is inside and not at all what I thought it was. Imagine me going to and from that place for nine years bearing in mind a specific notion of the place, only to know now how wrong I have been all the while. Talk about not knowing what you have when you have it. Geez.

But on another angle, the supposedly nice sceneries that they went to are not that pleasing at all. Not to put my hometown down, but Sampaloc Lake, for instance, long lost its luster and charm, at least in my eyes. It's no longer as pristine as it used to be. The people living around it, the "villagers" as the host of the show called them, has contributed much, very much, to the lake's decline. Even the air that the host of the show so intently complimented isn't as good as it seems to be. Now, the lake (or more precisely, the circumference of the lake) only serves as a jogging path for me on those few occasions when I go home. Bummer, right?

But whatever was said about the places in my hometown, however it was depicted in the show, good or bad, San Pablo City still remains a special place to me. If Ateneo were the one that ushered me into adulthood, it is San Pablo that built the foundations of my life. There, I learned the meaning of morality. There, my values were formed.

Even as I have now physically left the place, even if I now would feel no one but a stranger in those places that I have grown up in, San Pablo will forever be etched in my mind and in my heart as that place that first molded me into who I am now.

It will forever be my home.

My first humble home.

New Cubicle

We just transferred to a new office. Wee!!! The only thing is, I'm a bit disoriented because (1) dunno where all my files went, and (2) the bigger cubicle I now occupy seems too big for me (coming from my old cubicle, that is, hehe).  But, mind you, I'm not complaining at all. Why? I now have a view! Yey. Add that to the fact that my Sun signal is now always in full bars, and I have a new and exciting cubicle experience ahead of me. Coolness!

Saturday Nights

It has always been the darkness that enticed me. The black background amidst the sudden flash of light blinding me as I groove on the dance floor. That invisible fluid carrying a distinct aroma of combined smoke, sweat and perfume emanating from people all around. Yes, it's the anonymity of a Saturday night out in a place where strangers gyrate their bodies together, forming one pool of temporary bliss, that keeps me high and upbeat.

***

There's nothing like feeling the conditioned air as the bouncer checks out your pockets, as you part that thick curtain separating the world outside from that within, as you scan the dance floor for people you know and people who you might be interested to know, as you climb that staircase to the bar on the second floor, as you order that first bottle of beer before heading to your usual place, and just hanging out while exuding an aura of both confidence and shyness.

There is something to be said as you begin to settle down and become aware of the new surrounding, as you begin to take notice of what track is being played, as you begin to move your body to the beat like it has been programmed ever since.

Then just as suddenly, subtle movements become insufficient. You take your next bottle of beer and your body begins to sway more, your words come out too slow, your movements become careless, and yes, carefree.

Then you gulp your next bottles of beer without you noticing it, until you become tired of your usual hang out place. Then you decide to descend the stairs and dig in the dance floor just beside the ledge, where you dance like you've never danced before, hands up in the air, whole body swaying with the beat, feet step dancing, lips mimicking the song, and jumping up and down with careless abandon as you and the people around you shout at the top of your lungs when the music reaches its chorus.

The whole place rocks as you feel your whole world rock with it. Then you feel the sweat trickling down your eyes, caressing your cheeks, kissing your lips.

And you realize that it's time to rest.

So you retreat from the dance floor, and head to your favorite spot upstairs, near the walkway where everyone passes by. The best place to see and be seen. You compose yourself, wipe the sweat off your face, tug on your clothes and resume being both confident and shy.

Until you see that one person at the corner of your eye.

That one person you know you will want to get to know more that night. You stare as that person stares back, feeling the sexual tension between you, romancing the electrifying tug of that two meters in between.

Then the music slows down, the people around you fade in the background. All you think about is bridging that distance between you and that hot person giving you the sexiest look you have ever seen. You take one step, the person another, and like the swirling lights of that club that night, you take that person deeply entwined in your arms.

And then you kiss.

Hard. Passionate. Euphoric.

The black background amidst the sudden flash of light has given you the dance floor. The invisible fluid of combined smoke, sweat and perfume has led you to the one. The anonymity of a Saturday night out, in a place where strangers gyrate their bodies together, has kept you high and upbeat.

All else is forgotten. Nothing exists but the hit of the alcohol and the fleeting allure of the moment. Nothing remains but the darkness that enticed you in the first place. Only this time, it has served its purpose.

You have sealed your conquest for the night.

 

Crash

There were times when, during some of my many solitary musings, I wondered how I never figured in any major accidents before. Not that I was wishing for it, mind you; in fact, I was thankful not to have been involved with any instance of that sort. It's just that it had occurred to me that I have been relatively safe my whole life.

Until today.

On my way back to the office from researching elsewhere (a story for another time, hehe), I experienced my first road accident. Seated at the back of the cab reading my research, I felt everything move in slow motion the way it does in movies. The cab driver's deep intake of breath accompanied by a strong thud of his foot on the break, the view of the car in front of us as the distance between the two cars became less and less every second, and my keen awareness of my cab's sliding motion as it swayed both me and the driver to an eventual hit. Everything was in slow motion until the actual crash--when everything almost instantly played in fast forward. This included the crashing sound by the destroyed hood, the sudden jolt of the car and me being smashed at the back of the  passenger seat--all in a quarter of a second.

It was weird--the feeling of everything slowing down then almost as suddenly jerking in fast forward without you knowing any better. It's as if you were given one last chance to view everything without its complicity before it's literally snatched away from you.

What's more and what's really weird was that, despite the real danger I was in, at the back of my head, I felt like laughing. I felt like saying, "ah, so that's how it feels like to crash into another car." 

Talk about one person being a total psycho. Tsk Tsk. 

Maybe it was because I knew my life wasn't in any real danger. Maybe it was that I was safe because I was at the back of the car. I dunno. But whatever it was, it got me thinking. If I can laugh at the face of danger, if I can face disaster and still maintain a laughing composure, does it mean I'm brave? Or does it mean I'm just one stupid fool ready to die?

Dunno. Argh.

Makati during weekends

Makati is different during the weekends. There are less people, less traffic. It becomes a breeze traveling through Makati Avenue; no unnecessary hold up at the intersection of Jupiter street, nor at Gil Puyat avenue. Even the air seems to exude a certain freshness peculiarly absent when people are bustling around. It feels unrestricted and, literally, roomy.

Which was also the feeling I had when I entered the office yesterday. The lack of any other lawyers shuffling one paper too many made me feel relaxed. I wasn't too careful and composed when I did my business. My speakers were on, the whole room was filled with music I like and no one was there to be bothered with it. Even the use of Lex Libris was better. I didn't have to be conscious of using all the software windows for fear that others may not be able to access the same (only a certain number of windows can be opened at any given time due to license issues).

Yes, Makati is different during the weekends. And I like it.

There is something to be said about rediscovering the beauty of a place that has seemingly lost its splendor due only to familiarity. The once overwhelming structures and buildings which dissolve in the background weeks after their first viewing reclaim their wonder when, in a single day, the monotony of routine is broken. When the wave of the same thing disappears and alerts the mind that something is different, when the mind sharpens its senses once more in hope of identifying that which has become different, we discover the most wonderful things. We perceive that which has always been there yet we have never seen, or better yet, that which we have already seen but soon forgotten.

Funny how this happens to most of us most of the time. How we allow ourselves to get jaded with so many inconsequential things and events and routine that we are unable to see new ones as they come; or worse, how we allow ourselves to get swallowed by monotony that we forget what we have always known and truly enjoyed before. 

Like home. Like friends. Like love.

Or even like the love of writing. 

I wonder if, like Makati during the weekends, I can look at myself constantly in a different light, in an angle I have never seen before, and remember those that I have already forgotten, do the activities I haven't done in a long while, and write the insights that have already been suppressed to the recesses of my mind.

I wonder if I could re-invent myself and manifest a change that others, even the closest of my friends, would be surprised to discover. 

If only to re-live the wonders that come with them.

If only to free some clutter in my life to make room for another someone.

If only to shine anew for those that have already gone by.

Yes, Makati is different during the weekends. And I like it.

Absence

Cross Post from my Multiply site...

I haven't been blogging here lately (yes, I do have another blog, hehe), and just now, I started to wonder what my contacts have  been thinking regarding it. Perhaps some have thought that I have lost the touch. Perhaps others that I have been dry creatively. That's true. I haven't been in touch with my creative writing skills lately and yes my creative juices haven't been flowing the same way. But this is only because I have started working again few weeks ago. And I have been consistently tired, physically and mentally, since. 

But, mind you, I am not complaining. I'm discovering this whole new practice that I didn't think would be fun at the onset. How glad am I that my misconceptions are proven, well, wrong. I hope this fascination of mine in this field continues, such that I would want to be an expert on it in the future. Nothing drives me well enough than the desire to know everything that I can on something that I am totally interested in. 

And this, I think, is the start of it all. I hope I'd have enough courage to see it through 'til the end.

Note

Hold your horses, J, while you still can. You know where this will lead to from the first hour, don't fool yourself that you can make it any different. What will be will still be, what is, however, depends on you. So stay strong, learn from your mistakes and the mistakes of others before you, and be the man that you think you have become. Draw on what you've learned and use it to shape what more there is to learn.

Besides, so many options are open, right? Go dwell on them first. See their worth and never miss the opportunity to expand your horizons. After all, it is you who have always said to make an informed choice, right? 

Right.