Letters She’ll Never Get To Read

I don’t know what I wrote them for. They were of things that I wanted to–maybe even needed to–tell her but for some reason never got to. I’m certain that none of it matters now, especially not to her. But I find myself unable to get rid of them…even read through them.

Why do I have to be the one to stay?

Hindi Kami Bati Ng Moon.

So there I was, smoking a cigarette outside my friend’s condo unit. Maybe it was the silence; the absence of the usual traffic that clogs Vito Cruz day in and day out–or the cool breeze that blew on my face and carried off each stream of smoke I exhaled–that got me suddenly thinking.

Of things long past. Of things that are. And what things could be.

Things I always knew I have to be thinking of, but would readily dismiss as soon as they’d turn up. But there they were again. But this time, for some reason, I silently swore: What I lost, I will gain back. What I have now is not what I want, and is something I will improve on. I may not know what the future holds, but I’ll make damn sure I’m going to be there.

Bold words.

As I looked up to the uncharacteristically clear evening sky, I caught sight of the moon. The pale light that shone weakly along its shape, and how it dimly lit the dark blue blanket of the night. Like a friend one would never admit to needing but was always welcome whenever he showed up, it was suddenly there. And like an unbelieving friend whom you’ve just spilled your soul out to, its glowing crescent showed a smile. Only it wasn’t the reassuring kind. Its smile was sarcastic.

Pakyu, moon.

Si Papa Boy

Nakasandal siya sa upuan, halos buong gabi na naman ang inubos niya sa idlip niya sa bilog niyang mesa. Tambayan niya nahangga’t sa makakayang abutin ng alaala ko. Doon niya ginagawa ang kung anumang mga gawain niya: mamili ng mga kumbinasyon na itataya sa jueteng/Lotto, kumain, manuod ng TV, at syempre pa, ang “maidlip”. Siya si Papa Boy, kapatid ng lola ko at tiyuhin ng erpat ko.

Nakakatawa at nakakalungkot isipin na sa kabila ng mga kuwento niya ng mga conquests niya bilang binatang anak ng isang Senate President dati, eh tumanda siya ng walang anak at walang asawa. Kaya siguro magmula dati, eh kaming mga apo na ang pinagbubuhusan niya ng lakas; pagmamahal, pangungulit, at pang-aasar.

Maliit pa man ako eh panot na si Papa Boy, at puti lahat ng natitira niyang buhok. Dahilan na rin kung bakit “Kalbo” ang tawag naming mga bata sa kanya dati kapag nakatalikod siya. Lalo na kapag nainis kami sa kanya…na may kadalasan mangyari. Saksakan niya kasi ng kulit. Andiyan ang kagustuhan niyang malaman ang lahat ng bagay na wala namang kinalaman sa kanya. Ang pag-aabang sa’yo na matapos kumain—para lang matanong ka niya kung tapos ka na bang kumain. Ang pagsadya niyang gumawa ng ingay para lang magising kami kung gising na rin siya sa umaga. Hindi man nakakainis ang mga bagay na ‘to sa tingin niyo, hinahamon ko kayong danasin ito bilang bata, sa araw-araw na ginawa ni Lord. ‘Di magtatagal eh hihilingin niyo na lang ang biglaan at walang-babalang pagkamatay.

Hindi lang kami ang dumaan sa pagka-asar kayPapa Boy. Pati si erpat, kasama ng kapatid at mga pinsan niya, eh ganun din dati. At kagaya namin, bumabawi rin sila sa kanilang mga paraan. Hihintayin nilang matapos maligo si Papa Boy pero tiyempong hindi pa nakakapagpatuyo…saka nila sasabuyan ng buhangin ang bintana ng banyo, para dumikit ‘yun lahat sa basa nilang tito. Ako naman eh ilang beses nang pinalanguyan sa alagang pagong ang tubig na alam kong gagamitin niya sa pagligo, o kaya naman eh kikilitiin ko ng ting-ting ang bumbunan niya sa tuwing nakakatulog siya sa mesa niya.

Siyempre, madalas rin akong mapahamak dahil sa kanya. At kapag napuno at nagsumbong ‘yan sa erpat ko—kahit na alam kong natatawa ang daddy sa ginawa ko/namin—yare. Madaming kakatwang ugali si Papa Boy. Isang bagay na nalalaman ng madaming tao na nakapasok na sa bahay na ito (pilitin man nilang huwag alamin, mapapansin pa rin nila) eh ang hilig niya sa scotch tape. May tape sa LAHAT ng bagay, kailangan man nito o hindi. Kung maulit man ang napakalaking baha na naranasan ni Noah, eh siguradong lulutang ang bahay na ito sa dami ng nakapulupot na tape. At lahat ng pag-aari niya ay nilalagyan niya ng label (papel+scotch tape) na may initials niyang ‘B.C.R.’, at ang mga salitang “DON’T TOUCH” sa sulat-kamay niyang parang ang nagmamayari eh na-master na ang prep, pero medyo tagilid pa isabak sa Grade 1.

Masyadong madaming ka-weirdohan si Papa Boy para mabanggit lahat sa entry na ‘to.

Ngayong malaki na kaming mga bata, at ang ilan sa amin ay may mga anak na rin, iba na ang papel namin sa bahay na ‘to—lalo na sa akin. Ako ang tiga-disiplina ng mga pamangkin ko at tumatayo bilang ama nila sa mga parteng hindi kaya punuan ng mga nanay nila mag-isa. Pero ang papel naming lahat para kay Papa Boy ay ganun pa rin. Mahilig siyang mang-asar ng bata. At nagagawa ko naman mainis sa kanya dahil sa kakambal niyang kakulitan at ang pagpapa-gitna niya sa amin tuwing dinidisiplina ko ang mga bata sa tuwing nagpapasaway sila. Para bang hindi kami dumaan sa ganun dati, at nagpapakabida siya sa mga pamangkin ko, at ako ang lumalabas na masama. Tulad ng nangyari kahapon. Gusto ko siyang puluputan ng scotch tape at ilagay sa cabinet, para hindi na makapakialam.

Nakakapikon. Nakakainis. Pero may naalala ako.

Naaalala ko nung minsan na tumama siya sa jueteng at binili ako ng Sega Megadrive nung bata ako, dahil alam niyang matagal ko na gusto nun. Isang bagay na hindi ko akalaing magkakaroon ako. Ang pagbili sa akin ng yosi sa tuwing may pera siya, paglibre ng kain sa labas…maliliit na bagay, pero ‘yun lang din kasi ang makakaya niyang ibigay. Ang mga tanong niya na paulit-ulit man, eh madalas mo namang dama na may tunay na pagmamalasakit.

Matanda na si Papa Boy. At parang lumalala pa ang kakulitin niya. At sa totoo lang, malamang ay konti na lang ang oras niya sa mundong ‘to. At kapag nawala na siya?

Malulungkot ako. At alam kong madaming luha ang iiiyak ko para sa kanya. Dahil alam kong mabait at mabuti siya sa kabila ng kakulitan at kaabnormalan niya. At dahil alam kong madalas eh hindi ko magawang unawain na lang siya.

Epiphany

Sometimes life is just rough for no reason at all.

An update is an update is an update is an update.

Okay, that was pathetic. I’ve seen longer plurks.

There and back again

This is it. I’ve always thought of it time and again, but I didn’t really think I’d actually get back to it, and with the intentions that I have now. It was a life I thought I’ve left for good, in exchange for something better. As I should have learned a long time ago, people think wrong quite a lot. So here I am, plotting out what will hopefully be my last stab at the cake, before coming back here to what the rest of the world deems as ‘normal’. If things work out, I’ll be back here before I know it, with my first real job, my own place, the whole shebang. I only hope what I’m about to do is something I could get back from in time. I’m scared, but I think I have good reason to be.

We all see it in movies, read about it in books. A band of old thieves/conmen coming back together for one final score—bigger than all the others. They always get screwed before the whole thing comes to fruition. I’m no thief, of course…but that kind of thing happens to just about everyone who goes, “Just one more time, and I’m done…Just this one last time.”

Okay, Old Life. Here’s to hoping you still work out as I remember when I left you. I’ll be seeing you soon.

Talambuhay Ng Isang Tinapa pt. 2

I was hoping to post an entirely different entry before continuing with this story, but obviously, that didn’t happen. Trust that a whole lot of things happened during and in-between these times that I now write about, but I’ll leave that lot for some other time. So, without further ado…

The financial difficulty that my family went through was something us children never saw coming, of course. But it was something we felt. It was something we lived through because we didn’t have any other choice. What pained me that time was that I knew that my father did have a choice. He could’ve asked for aid from my lola or from some other relative, but didn’t. And even then, I knew that if he did, it was something that they wouldn’t have felt—considering how wealthy everyone else was. We hail from one of the most politically influential and relatively richer families of the last half century. What was a little cash to them?

But of course, I didn’t dare question his decisions. If anything, I supported them. Eventually, he did seek help, but not in the form that I hoped for him to. Quitting 4^th grade, I, along with my sibling were to move back to Manila, and stay with my dad’s aunt. The same aunt who raised him as a child, since his own mother never really had time for him and his brother, being of the alta sociedad and all. Another school year was to go to waste, but I was okay with that.

A year later, everybody including myself, felt that I should be back in school. I took the placement test (PEPT) when I was thirteen and passed as a high school freshman. I, arrogant bastard that I was, of course felt that I was capable of even better. Letting my lola (dad’s aunt) know how I felt, I had her give “gifts” to the public school officials—who also conducted the PEPT in the area—and found out that the whole thing wasn’t entirely based on how high one scored on the test. It was also based on the examinee’s age.

The last test I took was before the system was computerized, so it was pretty easy for the officials to just pull out my name as if I never took the test the previous season, so I could re-take it. So I did. Only this time, it was the now-standard shading of the numbered choices—it was now computerized—and I put in a different birth year and of course, a different age. I put down that I was sixteen. A couple of months later, the results were out. I passed as a 4^th year student.

I found this to be just awesome. I was studying as a freshman in a certain public school in Manila (which just happened to have my great grandfather as its benefactor since he donated the lot the school was built upon), all the while knowing that the following year, I wouldn’t be there. I’d be a senior somewhere else.

Just as everybody else says, there’s no life like high school life. And I had a blast during my first year. The previous year out of school, I’ve taken up smoking, drinking, and drugs—shabu, more specifically. Not because I was a rebel. But just because I wanted to. A broken family gave you lots of things, the same way it held from you some. One of those things that came with mine was freedom. And I claimed it like a rock star. I had all the vices going on, and even had my first tattoo (ugly little thing) when I was twelve years old. I was one of the most popular people in school. I spoke out when I wanted, said what I wanted, and did what I wanted. My girlfriend was a senior. I knew life wasn’t exactly made of rainbows, but again, it went good enough for me.

To be continued…

Talambuhay Ng Isang Tinapa

With no signs of having an internet connection until next month, it’s safe to say that yes, this blog’s thirst for regular updates will not be quenched just yet. Unnecessary figures of speech aside, I felt it’s just right that I post something at least. I dunno…anything. I’m hoping it’d be nothing like the last entry though, which was a direct result of beer and, well…pain. Just something to assure myself and the few readers I’ve got (I have reason to believe that there’s more than one, but definitely not over five) that yes, I am indeed still alive.

And that was an hour long pause since the last paragraph. The juices aren’t exactly flowing right now. But then again I am not well-known for my creativity—or the lack thereof. So maybe I should write something that doesn’t require any of it. Something with an autobiographical feel should do it, since I’m a stranger to most of the five (or four) readers that I’ve got anyway. It’s settled then…

I’m the eldest of five children, not counting the half sibling panganays my dad fathered—of which I’m the youngest (I know the two others, but I heard there are actually four or five of us). It’s kinda neat when you think about it: I get to be the youngest and the eldest at the same time. I was always cool about it, though. Especially while growing up knowing that I’ve always been my dad’s favorite. I was the only one he personally took care of. I’m not quite sure how that came about, but my dad’s aunt told me he always said I was the one who got his brains. While I doubt that I inherited my dad’s almost uncanny intelligence, what my lola said really does explain a lot about how he raised me.

My father taught me how to read when I was three. I don’t think my brain had much to do with it, though…the ruler my dad hit me with whenever I failed to make out a word correctly was probably the main reason I learned fast. Up to now, I never really found anything cruel with his methods, and am in fact thankful that he put me through what he did. I enjoyed being able to read immensely…I’d read everything within my sight: magazines, billboards, and bottle labels; and besting the househelp at spelling always made me feel good about myself when I was a kid.

Being pre-school’s most promising and best student was cake. Grade school was easier than most videogames I never got around to finishing. At one point when I was in first grade, I had the audacity to tell my parents that school bored me and I didn’t want to go anymore…they let me quit with the condition that I go again the following year. Awesome, yes? During this time, my family moved to Dumaguete, where my mother was originally from. I took my second crack at school, enrolling in Silliman University, what a lot of people still consider today to be one of the best in the region and even the country. Of course, like the first time, it bored me. And I never shied away from showing my disinterest. I was notorious among the teachers as the student who never took down notes—something I would never get around to doing my entire life as a student—and filled my notebooks instead with doodles. I can remember how one student teacher, her name now forgotten, blushed and pretended not to notice anything out of the ordinary except the absence of notes when she came upon a page of cartoony penises.

Despite of my shenanigans though, I made it a point not to let my grades suffer or I will get a serious beating from my dad. What I lost to notes and attendance (I had almost total freedom to not go to school at all if I didn’t feel like it), I made up for in everything else. I can be absent for days at a time then show up for a long test and ace it, thanks to my love for reading. I’d put the better students to shame by joining quiz bees and beat them while laughing the entire time at my buddies in the audience as they made monkey faces when they thought nobody was looking. I knew I was no genius, but I was silently thankful that my peers were less intelligent than I was. That probably isn’t true, of course, especially when I take our present lives into consideration. But that was how I truly felt back then.

It was really fun. But, like all things, it had to come to an end. What I didn’t know was all the while, my family was undergoing financial troubles. The fact that my parents lived apart probably didn’t help either. My dad, who was having an affair which my mother has always known about, moved out. But this was something that never really affected me. It was a relief to have all the fighting and screaming at home stop.

But we were screwed. Things got so bad that I never got to finish 4^th grade.

To be continued…

This entry’s title doesn’t really mean anything. I just remember having read it off an album by the band, TEETH ages ago.

Happy Anniversary

Ilang taon na rin ang nakalipas. Nitong araw na ‘to. Pagkatapos ng pag-iwas at pag-amin nating dalawa, naging tayo rin. Naging handa tayo sa maaaring idulot ng isang relasyong wala tayo sa piling ng isa’t-isa. Pilit nating nilabanan lahat ng pagsubok. Pero salungat sa aking akala na ako ang hindi magtatagal sa ganoong sitwasyon, kabaligtaran ang nangyari. Napakasakit sa akin noon. Pagkatapos ng lahat ng pagtitiis at panahon na ibinuhos nating pareho, mangyayari rin pala ang kinakatakutan ko. Doon ko nasabi na marahil nga, hindi sapat ang gustuhin ang isang bagay para ito ay mangyari o mapa-saiyo. Pero pilit pa rin kitang inintindi. Sa kabila ng pangungulit na mayhalong pagmamakaawa ko sa iyo sa halos araw-araw, pinatawad na kita. Dahil alam ko kung gaano kahirap ang magmahal ng isang tao na hindi mo man lamang makatabi. Hindi ka man lang maipagtanggol sa tuwing may mang-api sa’yo. Hindi ka man lang mayakap sa tuwing nalulungkot ka. Matagal na panahon rin ang lumipas—habambuhay na, sa pakiramdam ko—ikaw pa rin ang minahal ko. At sa tuwing kinakailangan mo ng kausap, o payaso para patawanin ka o patayin ang iyong oras, naroroon ako. Kahit sa pamamagitan man lamang ng cell phone. Marahil ay kahinaan nga iyon…pero hindi ko alam kung kahinaan nga na matatawag ang magtiis at panindigan ang paniniwalang magiging tayo rin sa huli. Naisip ko lang na hindi tamang hindi ako pagbigyan ng Maykapal…hindi tamang ipagdamot Niya sa’yo ang ganito katotoong pag-ibig. Madami tayong napagdaanan. Madami ang nangyari sa atin. At sa dulo ng mga pangyayaring ‘yon, pinagtagpo ulit tayong dalawa ng tadhana. Pareho na tayo muling nasa Manila. Hiwalay ka na sa kanya at nagpunta rito para magtrabaho at kalimutan na muna ang Davao. Ako naman ay kinailangang iwan ang Dumaguete at umuwi dito dahil namatay na ang aking mga magulang at kinakailangan kong tumayo bilang tagapagtaguyod ng natitira sa aking pamilya. Naging tayo muli. Nais kong isipin na maydahilan kung bakit tayo pinagtagpong muli. Na hindi naging sayang ang lahat ng pagtitiis ko. Na tama ako sa aking paniniwala. Naging masaya tayo. Pero sa hindi malinaw na dahilan, nagkulang ako sa’yo. Ngayon ko nalaman na nagkulang ako sa pagpaparamdam sa’yo ng pagmamahal. At may ilang beses ring nasaktan kita sa pagiging ako. Ngayong wala ka na. Kinailangan mong mangibang-bansa para diyan naman makipagsapalaran. Iniwan mo ako at ang pangakong hindi tayo maghihiwalay kailanman. Na sa buong panahon ng pananatili mo diyan at sa hanggang magbalik ka ay mananatiling tayo pa rin. Inaamin kong hindi ako perpektong tao. Napakalayo. Pero gusto ko rin sanang ipaalala sa iyo na inibig mo ako bilang ako. At inibig rin kita bilang ikaw. Kung dati ay may nagawa akong bagay na para bang pinipilit kong baguhin ka, patawad, hindi ko sinasadya ang mga iyon. Kung hindi ka naglalagay ng ketchup sa pizza at pikon kapag nag-aasaran tayong dalawa ay hindi na magiging ikaw ‘yon—ang babaeng mahal na mahal ko. Maintindihan mo sana na kung hindi ako iresponsable sa ilang pagkakataon at hindi maging sarkastiko lalo na sa mga pagkakatong hindi dapat, ay hindi na rin pagiging ako ‘yon. Hindi mo ako kinakausap ngayon. Galit ka sa akin. Galit ka dahil ako ay ako. Iresponsable. ‘Yan ang huling sinabi mo sa akin. Pero bago pa man mangyari ‘yan, nararamdaman ko na. Na kung anumang pagmamahal ang meron ka para sa akin ay unti-unting nawawala na. Siguro dahil sa pagiging magkalayo natin. Ang mga huling salitang sinabi mo sa akin ay kinumpirma lang ang hula ko. Hindi ko kasi maintindihan kung paano mong matitiis ang isang tao na “mahal” mo, habang alam na alam mo na nasasaktan siya sa bawat sandali na alam niyang galit ka sa kanya. Sabagay, kung naging madali kang magpatawad…hindi ka na magiging ikaw. Mahal kita. At kung saan man humantong itong lahat, mamahalin pa rin kita. Kagaya ng ginagawa ko nitong huling siyam na taon kong naging kakilala kita.

Gabi-gabi akong umiinom ngayon, makatulog lamang ng hindi na dumadaan sa pag-iisip at pag-alala na posibleng sa kabila ng lahat…matatapos rin pala.

Happy anniversary.

Sofa King Great

Ayos. My internet’s down. So yeah, looks like those updates are happening less often than never. I’ve found a way around it, though. I’ll be once again using my mobile as a modem and update whenever I’ve got new stuff. Another way of course, would be to pay the bill (lol). But that really isn’t an option for me right now. One of the reasons updates aren’t really that easy for me to begin with is the fact that I don’t have a scanner. So no matter how much I draw, I’d still have to wait for my sister to go over to her boyfriend’s and scan them drawings. Yes. One thing you have to know about me is that I’m very, very, very lazy. That’s about it for now, I guess.

The best-laid plans…

Okay. I need to post something, just so I could prove to myself that I am indeed going on with this. This blog was originally put up with the idea of starting out a web comic of sorts, and that’s how it will stay. That is, expect to see more of the doodles (which would be like posts themselves, with each drawing’s content and all…I think) than posts like this when I finally get to be really active. And the reason I’m still not is… I don’t really know. There’s just been some stuff going on lately–stuff I don’t really intend on blogging about–and I just find myself occupied with them and incapable of being bothered with anything else.

In the meantime a friend of mine, Jemi, is working/experimenting on the layout and stuff, since I’m a total moron when it comes to these things(and a couple of other small things–like life). Little Jemi, God bless her, is always busy with work but she finds the extra time to tinker with my blog and help me out . She’s ozum. Yes, oz-zum. It’s a real word, no need for you to look it up. Thank you, Jemi!

Kaya pasensya na kung nakaka-iritang tingnan ang blog na walang laman, lalo na sa mga taga WPP, pakiramdam ko pinaasa ko kayo sa pag-join ko lol. Alala n’yo ‘yung Chow King TV ad?

“Asan na Chow King ko?”

“Niluluto pa.”