where have i been?

I’ve been hanging out at Lyceum last week for a different kind of love. I debated as a swing for the 11th National Debating Championship. Sabi nila, kami daw ang nagpauso ng konsepto ng “competitive swinging”. That would probably be my first and last so might as well make it good, I thought. And yes, I had fun. Thanks to Jonjon, Jowee, Joel, Norman, and Daryl Isla.

To be fair, I have stories of my own. Most of which I have decided to keep to myself and among closest of close friends. And also, with UP Diliman bringing home the championship trophy, let’s just say I really had fun. Congrats to the UP Debate Society!

***

Sabi ko nga sa isang anonymous friend, “para kang nag-iinvest sa isang bato nang may ipupukpok ka sa sarili mong ulo.”

***

My “official” sembreak just started. So lately, I’ve been spending a lot of time with my bed and with the dining table. Kain-tulog mode. I just feel so lazy.

This is also the perfect time to catch up on missed Glee episodes. But my computer’s memory is too cramped that it prevents me to download. I stream episodes instead which, of course, would require more patience. But for the love of Glee, go lang ng go.

***

I hate Santi the typhoon. It felt like a huge joke. I want to take it seriously. But come on! They hoisted a storm signal no. 3, there were episodic brownouts, but almost no rain. That’s called paranoia. Not good.

***

After November 2, I’ll be back in UP to probably fix things for my last, I repeat, last semester. Being the emo person that I am, the feeling’s getting harder to handle everyday. I don’t want to leave, especially that there are a lot of special people that I’ll be leaving behind. Eto nalang, putangina. Ganun s’ya katindi ngayon. Kaya ang hirap magmahal eh. It just makes everything so complicated, and yet you know without the complication, everything is too pale and bland, so you’ll end up craving for it even if it hurts. CHOS and throw in some confetti.

***

Maybe (I just hate that word) it’ll be harder for me to squeeze in some time to write entries in the future, so I decided to create a Twitter account. Follow me folks: http://twitter.com/mcsiapno.

on scent.

An orange, when pealed, releases a scent representative of the tangy fruit. Even in the absence of sight, the scent signifies presence – may the scent be real or imitated. It stimulates the mind to think, to remember, to visualize.

A scent devoid of body is only reserved for the nose to sniff. A cup of coffee would smell like coffee, in the same way that a freshly pealed orange would smell like orange. That yes, an orange scent can be described as ‘tangy’, but isn’t ‘tangy’ a word for taste? In this case, aside from smelling like coffee, how would one describe its scent? Unlike other senses like sight, touch, or taste, words seem to be too imbecile to describe what was smelt.

And since, scents are also devoid of body, no lines, nor curves, nor mutations of figural in-betweens would be able to describe it by appearance as well. Scents are mere abstractions of the physical. Vision is integral to smell.

Scents can also trigger hearing, projecting mental images from memory. It extends to the nerves to make you reminisce, to feel the emotion of the remembered moment. Next is the rapid pulsation of the heart, perhaps the sweating of palms, and then a falling tear (or maybe not). Or perhaps a clenched fist and a pair of strong locked jaws, following a punch, then silence. Scents can do so much. Like an indelible imprint, or a strictly weaved fiber forming cloth, removing the signified from memory is near impossible.

But scents are not exclusive to the signified body. A sweet, flowery smell of a flower can belong to any flower. In the same way that a scent of a rotting body can belong to a dead rat or even to a human (not necessarily dead). For scents are replicable, the signifier can signify anything or anyone.

You haunt me more than ever.

flash shots, friday.

The keyboard might as well crack with the pressure it gets, as almost every key seems to be pressed at the same time with the speed of my fingers. “Fuck you, bitch! Can’t you freaking see that I’m finishing a paper!” But it was imagined. Instead, I picked up the book lying on the floor and slapped it against her face. Don’t worry. It was softbound and I just imagined that as well. 

I was on my third page and the bitch still went on, and on – even joked about her friend’s fave sex position according to a Facebook app. How mature. 

On top of the monitor was Cut, a short story for children. It was insulting me. I can’t seem to analyze a short story, made for kids, about a haircut. It was because “Chona bent and whispered something in Mika’s ear: ‘The good thing about hair is that you never lose it. It just grows back.’ And it did.” And this Chona is gay, and Mika’s mother is, obviously, not. Long hair is usually for women, and Chona wore a wig. Mika’s mother didn’t want her to even have a trim, but her Lola said Chona can, and so this Chona did. Mika’s mom saw it, got mad, and gave Mika the haircut of her life. What should that mean?

“Carlos, I don’t know how to do a Marxist Feminist!” Then he replied, “Spivak!” I tried to remember. Yes, Spivak. But wait! I’m using Sara Mills. Scratch Spivak, scratch.

***

The heat was too much. I was sweating. I have to change into something comfortable. Mixed with books and notebooks, paper and all, was a shirt. Thank God, I have a shirt. I ran to the comfort room to change, but wait, where are my books? And so I ran towards a different direction.

I left it. Great. And so I ran faster, crossed buildings, tapped Ben’s back instead because I can’t afford to stop and say ‘hi’. 

It was still there. I can’t afford to lose those books because a week worth of allowance won’t be able to pay for it. It was still there, picked it up, and ran back. I saw you by the steps, reading a paper. I chose not to stop. It was still there. Wait, is it?

***

I tried to open the door. “Ha? Bakit?!” Someone called. It was Patrick. The door was locked. “Ikaw nalang hinihintay.” Nervous, I said, “Teka, eto na.” And ended the call. The door was already locked.

I dialed. “Hello, Pat. Teka lang. Papunta na akong DLRC. Sabihin mo teka lang.” He was too impatient and gave the phone to someone else. “Hello? Teka lang.” I was told to hurry up. 

It was already dark inside. “Sorry, sarado na,” the guy said. I begged, “please.” “Wala na, patay na lahat ng computer.” It was my cue to turn my back.

I was almost running. But because of books and my bulky bag, I wasn’t running. I leaped over steps. AS was pretty high at that point. 

“Hello? Papunta akong Pop I. Wala na sa DLRC eh.” I went down immediately when I heard, “Sarado na yan kanina pa.” “Teka. Pabantay nung department. Saan ba kayo?” “Sa Gal.” I sounded unfamiliar, “Ah okay.”

I ran to FC. “Oh ayan na pala si Marc,” Patrick said. “Teka, wala pa.”

***

Panting and breathy, I asked, “pwede po ba magpa-print? Kahit bayaran ko nalang po. Ma-i-incomplete po kasi ako eh.” She looked puzzled, “Ha? ha? Ano yun?!” The glass was getting misty, “Magpapa-print po. Ma-i-incomplete na po kasi ako.” Finally, she said yes.

I handed her my flash drive. She was taking too much time. She had to call me because she couldn’t find my file. A few scrolls, and she clicked print.

“Magkano po babayaran ko?” I was asked more relaxed. “’Wag na. Major ka ba?” I answered yes. She handed me my paper. “Ate, thank you po. Thank you, thank you po.” I had to hide my paper. Behind me was my thesis adviser. I lost track of the position she now holds, nevertheless she’s my thesis adviser. 

And with a wrist flick, I was out of the department.

four.

In UP, we create our own schedule and choose the subjects that we want to take for the semester. When I was still a starting freshman, everything was so stressful. I was enlisting on subjects that overlap, or I would chose subjects that gave me three hour breaks in between. When that happens, I would do all the necessary changes, which in effect, would also affect my whole schedule. I’d go back to zero. And it was plain stressful. 

This struggle extended to my sophomore and junior years. It was more complicated though. This time, I wanted to take a subject, it fits my schedule, but the CRS always bumps me off. Or I’d love to take a subject, but surprise, surprise it won’t offered for that semester. Or I’d have to cancel a subject that I dreamt of taking just to give way to a major class. Or just to fulfill your required units, I took subjects that I didn’t even imagine taking.

Well, that was back then.

Fast forward to this date. I only have four subjects left to enlist. Had I took an extra load this semester, I’d be taking only three for my last. Can you imagine how weird is that? Four. That wouldn’t even fulfill a UP student’s required units for a semester. Better find another subject or be kicked hard in arse. But me? Four. Four subjects left before my UP student life ends. Are you freaking serious?! AS IN, 1, 2, 3, FOUR subjects away from graduation.  

I didn’t notice the time. What happened back then?



P.S.: It has been too long since I wrote something here. This probably explains why. I’m doing all the shiz to graduate on time. You gotta make yer mama proud, yo!

when leaves are unfair.

It’s been raining hard for the past few days. Last night, I think, was the strongest. The gust made the rain look like waves hitting the concrete. On the way home, a few of the signage on the road already tipped over. There was violence in the atmosphere.

But it seemed too ironic that regardless of the rain’s strength, a few spots of earth seemed untouched. These spots weren’t totally covered; just enough to keep them pretty dry.

An Indian tree stands beside our gate. Silly how even if the soil beneath is party cracking, the heavy rain wasn’t able to reach it fully. The weeds beneath needed those drops.

The earth beneath the tree remained damp. The weeds needed those drops. If only the weeds can wish for more, I bet it would wish for those heavy drops. Besides, even pests have wishes, even pests lives to wish.

But weeds will always be plants; plants with roots; and roots that disables them to move. That even if these pests needed those drops, circumstances dictate that they will have to wait for the rain to reach them.

I thought the rain was at its strongest. But why then wasn’t it able to drown the spot beneath our tree? Maybe we can blame the tree’s leaves. Perhaps they wanted the weeds to die. If only these leaves showed a little consideration, perhaps the weeds would finally experience those drops.

But why then would Nature have to dictate how these weeds will die? Or why then would the tree’s leaves agree to conspire? We chose not to pull those pests ‘cause we know they can not cause much harm. They still deserve to live.

But I think the weeds are dying soon. The sun peeked today. That only means heat, that only means being dry. But I think that those weeds are still struggling to live. They have the dark skies as a reason to optimistic. Besides, dark skies can mean heavier rain.

If finally the sky decides to break and pour, I wish that it’ll be strong enough. Those weeds can’t move. Those heavy drops should reach them soon. But if those weeds die before the rain, I still wish that the sky would still break and pour. At least, I’ll know that maybe it wasn’t the rain’s fault. The tree’s leaves were just unfair.

trahedya ng dalawang manggagawa.

Mahirap ang trabaho nung manong na nagtitinda ng yosi at kendi sa tabi ng kalsada. Bilad sa ulan at araw, tanging suot ay ang pudpod na tsinelas, shorts, at tshirt na kupas. Pwede namang umupo. Pero kasi mas makakabenta kung hahayaang ugatin at pamamanhirin ang mga binti sa pagtindig buong araw hanggang gabi. Bawal ang payong dahil sagabal, asa ka pang may pambili s’ya ng kapote. Tiis, tiis nalang. 

Ang mahirap pa d’yan, sa libu-libong sasakyan sa kalsada, ilan ba ang nag-yoyosi? Ilan ba ang bibili, kahit isang pirasong kendi? Hindi natin alam. Kailangan lang umasa nung manong na sa pagtapat n’ya sa isang driver, aabutin nito yung yosi o kendi at mag-aabot ng baryang mamiso bilang bayad. Kung hindi, sorry nalang. Susubukan nalang ulit sa susunod na sasakyan.

Yung nagbebenta ng balut sa kanto, hindi nga nakatayo, buong gabi namang naka-upo. Wala kasi s’yang bisekleta, at kung may bisekleta man s’ya, masyado na rin s’yang matanda para umikot-ikot at sumigaw para ialok ang kanyang mga paninda. Minsan, masyadong malamig ang gabi. Bukod sa suot n’yang damit, siguro sapat na yung di-kerosene n’yang ilaw para magbigay ng konting init. At ang pinakamahirap sa lahat, bawal matulog at wala ka pang makausap.

Oo nga, nakapwesto nga s’ya kung saan marami ang tao. Pero siguro, kakaunti nalang ang interesado kumain ng balut, penoy, o kahit yung chicharon n’yang tila palamuti na nakatali sa basket. Hindi rin naman pwedeng magpa-free taste, o mang-alok ng balut sa kung anu-anong paraan. Kung hindi bibili yung taong natapat sa’yo, aasa nalang na yung kasunod ay may balak kahit papaano.

Iisa lang naman ang gusto ng dalawang karakter na ‘to. Gusto nilang kumita ng pera. Kung bakit, hindi na natin kailangan malaman. Pero iisa lang din ang trahedya ng kanilang piniling paraan para kumita. Parehas nilang kailangan maghintay at umasa. Hindi kasi pwedeng masyadong mapilit. Baka naman ‘pag nabadtip sa manong yung driver ay mura-murahin pa n’ya ‘to o kaya naman sagasaan. Bawal rin naman mambwisit ng mga taong dumadaan dahil gusto mong makabenta ng balut, ibato pa nila yan sa mukha mo kung nagkataon.

Pero hindi ibig sabihin nun na aasa ka nalang habangbuhay. Eh kung ganun lang din, sana namalimos ka nalang. Tulad ni manong, dapat tuloy pa rin ang pag-aalok. Pero syempre dapat swabe lang. At kung naka-upo ka lang din naman, sigaw ka rin ng kaunti para naman malaman ng mga tao na nagtitinda ka ng balut. 

Walang nangyayari sa simpleng pag-asa. Alam mo yung dahilan kung bakit ka nagbenta ng yosi, kendi, balut, penoy, o chicharon. Kailangan mo kumilos, kailangan mong gumawa ng paraan. Oo, totoo. Minsan nakakatakot ng bahagya maging mapilit. Pero mas matakot ka kung sa bandang huli wala kang napala.  

of the luzon intervarsity tourney.

Representing UP Diliman in a tournament felt so good. Parang, [insert expletive] UP Diliman ‘to, pare. Except that I don’t really say ‘pare’ in real life. Pero gets? You’ll get so pumped up that you’ll feel you can do anything at that point (of course, except for that seemingly impossible take home exam you brought as a symbolism of your dedication as a student).

Looking back, we did a lot of weird things. Say for example, upon arriving at the convening room, we hugged each other. Then when the first motion was given, we all hugged for good luck. After the round, we hugged again either for a) the success b) for the fucked up round. Then when teams forwarded to the next round, we hugged. And when a team falls, we hugged too. The cycle went on and on. Dumating nga sa point na “pwede wag na muna mag-hug?” Kasi naman. Sa sobrang hug, parang hindi ko na ma-appreciate. Simple desensitization. Sorry na, k?

People got frustrated, some felt good about themselves, issues grew for whatever reasons, but hell, who cares? We were out there to kill and the moment we joined that tourney, we knew we can be casualties of our own contingent. It was all worth it.

It’s amazing that you have friends as the Best Rookie Team (JC girl and Trixia), your org’s applicants performing really well compared to other institutions (JC boy and Ben), and whole contingent who did its best for a full contingent break for a shot at championship (Sabi nga ni AnaRod, “this is becoming a trend.” Sana nga maging trend na forevah.).

I’m happy for myself (parang ang pathetic pakinggan) and for Mikee too. People can always say that we got eliminated eventually and that’s sad. But being eliminated in the Octos isn’t that bad – that’s a round away from the Semis. 

The whole tourney was really a “learning experience” (Arcellana, Infinity). I just “loooooove it” (Avila, 2008). Say hello to Tin from UPLB, to Toni, Paula, Kaiyze (?), and Morris from UST, to Clarissa and Keith from UPM, to our Argumentum friends from UPB, to Victor from DLSU, and so on and on. I love the debate community. And yes that includes *toooot* and *straight* who probably *straight* needs chemical castration [does the ever funny arm-torso movement].

I’m looking for more tourneys ahead. I want to reach the Finals. CHOS, hindi naman masama. Sabi nga ni Emily Shakelton at David Cook, “if you don’t dream big, what’s the use of dreaming?” We all need to reach out for something more. 

But for now, I’m back to being a simple student trying to finish each and every requirement (yes, I did manage to finish the take home exam I brought to the tourney). Watch out for us, Marc Siapno (probably plus, Mikee Sevilla again) or [insert name here]. But for each and every tourney ahead, sabi nga ni Michael Jackson, “where there is love, I’ll be there.” Promise.

wala lang.

Wala na akong maisulat sa blankong espasyo na ito. Halos araw-araw nilalamon na ng walang katapusang gawain ang oras ko. Wala na akong oras, kung ‘di kakarampot, hulihin ang mga napagtanto sa buong araw at ilapat rito upang malaman at maintindihan mo. 

Wala naman akong ibang iniisip kung ‘di ikaw. Hindi mo na rin dapat problemahin kung bakit pinagtutuunan kita ng oras kahit sa pag-iisip lang. Dahil sa totoong buhay, naisin ko man ilaan ang oras ko sa piling mo, sadyang hindi maari.

Pero sino ka nga ba? Isang kaibigan o isang kakilala lamang? O isang tao na higit pa sa sinuman? 

Wala rin namang mag-iiba kung bibigyan kita ng iba’t-ibang pangalan o iba’t-ibang pangalan para sa relasyon na namamagitan sa ating dalawa. Kaibigan o ka-ibigan, walang pinagkaiba – sa pulumpon ng mga titik nababalot ang salitang ‘ibig’.

Kaya wala ring pagkakaiba kung wala na akong maisulat sa blankong espasyo na ito. Ang bulgar na paglalahad ng naiisip sa sulatin na ito ay sadyang pag-ulit lamang ng bagay na naiisip at pinipili kong gawin sa pang-araw-araw, tulad ng pag-iisip sayo. Kaya hindi ko na rin kailangan sabihin kung ano ang nararamdaman ko, dahil sa puntong ito, sa tingin ko, hindi mo na maitatanggi na alam mo.

i just want to say that...

Now I understand how the body-less entity can drag you around and around until your sanity breaks. I’m amazed on how a scent can lock you up as it signifies another entity, now with a body. A snapshot from a memory (oh that stare!) that works like an opium as it takes you away to an entirely different universe. I say, everything is much better.

choices.

I chose to be the private. The only phase that they knew of was post-break up – when things got so heavy, and I just couldn’t keep it anymore. I knew that I was just waiting for it happen. I was waiting to give up, to break down. And that’s it. It happened.

Things are now back to normal. We’re friends. That’s also something that I chose. Am I happy about it? Maybe. But honestly, I just don’t care. I already gave too much. It’s about time to make “better” choices.

Now, I still choose to be private. But things don’t always go as planned. Privacies break, things leak, and they eventually become part of it. 

Everything becomes so different when you already mapped out your plans, and convinced yourself that this will be it, then, all of a sudden, a shift in circumstance. It disturbs me. But when much rationality is not needed, how can you think on your feet so you can adjust?

Choices always require two paths at the barest minimum – the perceived ideal and the way out. It’s too tempting to take the other way when it’s always an option. But I’m still taking the path I chose from the start. (Or maybe I should have ended that previous sentence with a question mark instead). 

It’s so hard to stand for a decision, especially when you constantly pressure yourself of thinking of the best option. In the end, you just don’t want to get hurt.

But yeah, I’m choosing you. But this time, I think I need to sacrifice a little privacy.

farewell, cory aquino.

Philippine’s icon of democracy, Queen of the Philippines, Mother of the Nation – few of the many words and phrases used to describe former President Corazon Aquino. True enough, we can describe her in many ways, in different perspectives and convictions. Nobody said she was perfect. She had her own faults – conceded. But we can’t deny that she did her best. Now that she reunites with her equally noble husband Ninoy, I join the rest of the Philippines in saying farewell. Farewell, Cory Aquino and thank you.

definition.

Friday noun - (1) the sixth day of the week; (2) a weekend, bunched with Saturday and Sunday; (3) time to unwind and let go of the stress brought by the previous days; (4) for some, marked by flowing alcohol, perhaps with cigs, and much dancing – flirty or otherwise; (5) maybe a perfect moment to reenergize; (6) also a time to be crazy and wild; (7) time to seek something new and do something new; (8) sadly, can also be a time to be occupied with work; (9) a day to not care about work; (10) or simply, love (like this most recent Friday). 

Happiness, choice, it is. Love. Friday.

totally NOT about cha-cha, k?

In a lecture about Charter Change – no sides and biases, just the facts – I said, “Let’s start with the basics. Let’s discuss how to form informed judgments.” I expected that not everybody would really pay that much attention because for one, it’s about basics and two, everybody assumes that they know it.

Step one is getting to know the issue. In the discussion concerning Charter Change, it’s not going to be all about the poor, it’s not going to revolve around who are the ones who’ll be oppressed, and who are the ones who’ll be left behind. But this is not to say they’re irrelevant. This is just to say that it is also important to try and also look at the motivation. Ask: why is there such a call to pursue this at this point? Maybe, just maybe, this is called for, and it is needed. Who else are involved? Examine all sides. Shut up first and know the issue.

Step two is getting your facts straight. It doesn’t mean that just because your mom said it, it’s true. It doesn’t mean that just because your best friend advised it, it means that it is the best. And we don’t even care if the bishop or the highest authority in your religion declared it amongst thousands. It pays to get informed. Read. Start being unbiased. Because what can you get solely reading a pamphlet produced by the pros? Obviously, pro sentiments. In the same way that pure anti sentiment readings will help you form anti sentiments. Why not read both rather than saying something or someone is right or wrong on the basis of bias?

Step three is using your brain. It’s about being critical. After step one and two, the assumption is that you are ready to make an informed judgment. It doesn’t matter if you’re for it, or against it. You also have the liberty to be neutral. Whatever your position may be, have the balls to stand up for it. So that even if somebody comes up to you and asks why you’re taking that side, you can say all the negative things about it, you can also say all the positive things, and yet, you can still slap to that person’s face why you’re taking the side you’re taking. But it’s better not to slap. Slap when obnoxiously asked and provoked.

These are too trivial, they say. We can almost do away with this. But look how people form judgments – not only about Cha-Cha, but life’s issues in general. I thought they knew the basics. Judgmental much.  

today's prayer.

Dear God,

Yung probsheets ko po, lahat for revision. Tanggap ko naman po na tao lang ako at nagkakamali, pero bakit po ganun? For revision na nga lahat, ibig sabihin wala pa akong topic, tapos sa August 7 pa rin yung deadline ng annotated bibliography? Ang sakit sakit po sa puso at isipan. Pwede po ba magpatulong? Naguguluhan na rin po kasi ako. Patatagin n’yo po ako.

Kailangan ko rin po ng tulong sa pag-aayos ng buhay ko. Kasi naman po, kung hindi kailangan, hindi ako makatulog. ‘Pag naman sobrang kailangan ko, ang bilis ko dapuan ng antok. Sobra ah. Alam ko po na hindi bawal matulog, pero po kung hindi kasya ang bente-kwatro oras para matapos ko ang lahat ng kailangan kong gawin, sa tinggin ko po, dapat matutunan kong isantabi ang mga bagay na pwede ko munang kalimutan. Matiisin naman po ako eh. Kailangan ko lang ng tulong. Tao lang po.

Mabanggit ko na rin po, ano? Itatanong ko lang din po kung bakit yung ibang mga tao ang insensitive. Minsan kung makaasta sila hindi nila alam na nakakasakit sila. Pero kapag naman ibinalik mo sa kanila yung ugali nila, akala mo kung sino magalit. God, kamusta naman? I think, kailangan nila ng guidance mo. 

At God, tama po ba lahat ng ginagawa ko? Kasi po kung hindi, sana po sabihin n’yo nalang sa akin. Ayoko po ipagpatuloy ang isang bagay na wala namang naghihintay sa huli. Matututo naman po ako sa ibang bagay, ‘di ba? Kaya ko masaktan, pero hindi po ngayon. Tulad po ng nabanggit, yung probsheets ko po for revision. Madaming trabaho na kailangan tapusin, mga deadline na kailangan habulin. Pero dahil kayo si God, alam n’yo po na masaya rin naman ako ngayon. Pero, tama naman po yung logic ko, ‘di ba? If you’re happy today, why not try to be happier tomorrow? God, patulong naman please. Salamat po. 

Amen.


Ay God, P.S.: UPCAT na po this weekend, pero yung kapatid ko hindi ko nakitang magrereview kahit minsan. May usapan po ba kayo na aanigan s'ya ng karunungan sa araw ng UPCAT? Or narinig n'yo po s'ya na kumakanta ng Jesus Take the Wheel? In any case, kayo na po ang bahala sa kanya. Salamat po ulit.

Amen.

'cause i doubt, i fear, i hesitate.

Truth is a creation of the mind. Part of it is convincing people that you have a point; that what you hold true is true across situations; that it’s better to accept it than not to understand. 

Thus, truth is also relative. People will always believe in different things. So that what is real, a creation of combined truths, is also relative. My reality is different from yours, or we may share certain truths, so to some extent we may say, my reality is also your reality. 

But it is in this partiality that we get lost. Reality, for the most part, appears only to be real. Appears to be real, unconfirmed, left to be debunked. For this partiality, we hesitate, we get afraid, we opt to wish and hope and not do anything about it. And sometimes when I think or feel that our realities touch, know that I doubt. 

I can’t force something that seems that’s not bound to happen to be real. This is my truth, we share it, thus this is our reality. But part of this reality is that we’re also partial. And even though how much I like you, I doubt because things only appear to be real. I fear. I hesitate.

***

Fred said, “If you have a chance to take the moment that you know will be memorable, grab it. Always think that the word ‘next time’ is always too far.” 

But Issa said, “Do not ever pursue a decision when you’re having even the slightest doubt about it. Save yourself from regrets.” 

But at the same time Fred answers, “Forget about all the reasons why something may not work. You only need to find one good reason why it will.” 

And yet Issa says, “There are times that it is better to let things happen rather than to insist on how you want them to be done.”

So, I wait because of doubt, fear, and hesitation. 

***

I want to wait. But at the same time, I feel that I can’t wait for something I want so badly. And for this partiality, I doubt, I fear, I hesitate. And I feel I’m bound to get nothing, and go nowhere.

because they appreciate me.

I love my Comm 3 class for different reasons. For one, my freshmen classmates are so perky - bibo at the right level. My professor is super nice. She laughs with us, not the pokerface kind. But above all, I love my Comm 3 class because I know they appreciate me. Well, at least I’m sure that one of them appreciates me.

Chapter 3 was about The Self and Intrapersonal Communication. So part of the reporters’ activity was related to the Johari Window. We used to do this back in high school during retreats and recollections. I thought it was going to bore me.

The reporters gave us paper. We folded it into two and were asked to put the characteristics we know of ourselves. This is what I wrote:

Then we were told to tape the blank side of the paper to our backs, formed groups, and were asked to write on each other’s sheets. This is what I got:

I’m sorry nalang. Hindi ko kilala kung sino nagsulat n’yan. So, it must really came from the heart.

***

I need to pass three problem sheets this Friday – two to three pages each, with a flow chart dissecting each problem, with 60 references in total. Mabuhay! This is the graduating student’s life.

the bar, better than any in the metro.

Probably during this same time, I was lying on the floor occasionally puking in a plastic bag while something else was happening around me. It’s such a pity that I can’t talk fully about last night. Because first, what happened there stays there. And second, my bad memory was severed by vodka.

At first there was a live guitar and drums performance, then came the singing, then the party music, then the dancing, then the pranks, and the things that happened in between. It was one hell of a night.

This is becoming a habit. Pero, kailangan maging strong. Next time, we have to fight the temptation. But of course, we’re not promising anything.

I don’t know how to end this entry. I’ll just post the last shot I took before leaving. This, I think, sums it all.

ethics.

My professor asked the class today, “What will you do if an advisee of a colleague consults you regarding his/her thesis?” We started making noise with our answers, so she had to call somebody. Random classmate answers and she agrees. My professor said, “Well, that's correct. But actually, you have several options. You can inform your colleague and tell him/her that his/her advisee is asking for your help.” There was a pause, then she added, “If that was my advisee, I’ll tell my colleague that it’s okay. Kanya na siya. Kanyang-kanya na.”

Advisers are there to help. But if you don’t trust your adviser’s capability, then at least have the decency to ditch him/her properly – given that you can. Don’t make your adviser feel irrelevant.

Because when he had enough, he’s had enough.

first day and mikee's day.

Rain isn’t really good for the first day of classes. It just makes everything wet and slippery. Instead of being able to roam around the University, run across the fields, and smell the fresh air of independence, you’ll end up under your umbrellas, cold, and if you’re lucky enough, wet under the rain because you forgot your rain gear.

Most of the UP freshies are now different. They weren’t the freshies that we were or the freshies that were before us. They put the CHA in chaka, especially that most them bring their moms, and even yayas around. They put the PA in pathetic, when they can’t even ask for themselves and would rather get lost looking for classes in the Faculty Center. They put the E in ewww because they would rather talk about their new phones, new condos, new cars, instead of, I don’t know, fostering great, lasting friendships. And yes, this is a hasty generalization. In any case, I still believe in them. Much more that they have the financial capital that will enable them to do so many things and embody what UP education stands for.

On a gloomier note, I enjoyed my first day today, not because it was perfect, but because I have learned to love the imperfections of the day. WTF.

Hindi ko lang talaga kinaya yung may seat plan sa auditorium. It was, at best, challenging and life changing. You’re forced to sit beside two random persons who, for the most part, are capable of nothing but awkwardness. Buti nalang groupmate ko si Jovan.

Today, I also skipped a class for the weirdest reason – I forgot I had a class. I don’t know how to explain it to the professor next meeting. But she can always check the time stamp on my Form 5 to prove that I did use the time enroll and not to flutter around looking for freshies with potential.

And also maybe because I wasn’t myself today, I just happened to have lost money. Money, which by the way, is very scarce lately. Sabi ko nga kanina, ‘Wala na nga akong pera, mawawalan pa ako ng pera.’ Pero sabi ko rin, ‘Kung wala na akong pera, bakit nawalan pa ako? Ibig sabihin, may pera pa ako, konti nga lang, sobra.’ I need to get a job.

Finally, just before I went home, Chel noticed that my left eye was swelling a bit. This eye swelling phenomenon has been happening since the summer of my first year. It has happened every summer then. I didn’t notice that it didn’t happen last summer because it didn’t. Apparently, it just got delayed. Hello, unwanted protrusion!

Anna O is also back in UP. It makes me happy ‘cause we’re now louder. I think this is going to be a great year with most of my friends around. So much for my first day. I’ll see you tomorrow.

P.S. Today is tomorrow because I just technically crossed a day. That means, it’s Mikee’s birthday today. Happy Birthday, Mikee! I wanted to post a photo, but you may not want the exposure and the attention that comes after. Cheers!

kinikilig ako, ayeee.

Moment 1: Today I was supposed to hear the 6:30 pm Mass in a nearby church. But I got too happy watching vids and playing Internet games. I turned off the computer at exactly 6:30 and told myself that it’s okay to be 15 minutes late. When I finished dressing up, it’s already 7.

Moment 2: I aimed for the 7 pm Mass. I told myself that it’s okay to be 15 minutes late. I rode a jeep to church no. 2 and paid 20 pesos. I was expecting a 13 peso change, but the driver told me to wait for it. When the church was just around the corner, I asked for the change, but he was snubbing me. So, I raised my voice. He asked for 2 pesos, I was then expecting a 15 peso change. I pulled the string to make the jeep stop, grabbed my change, and jumped off the jeep. I opened my hand and got 5 freaking pesos.

Moment 3: I easily get dizzy when I stand too long. Guess who fainted during his grade school graduation because his fellow graduates, and their parents, were so in the zone marching?! Ehem. Anyways, because I was late for the Mass, I had to stand at the back of the church. I thought I was strong. I expected to finish the Mass strong. But I got dizzy towards the end. Read: hazy eyesight, hot ears, and weak knees. Good thing I found an extra space where I can kneel. I faked praying, and told myself to breath, you are strong. Then, I opened my eyes and found a vacant seat. I took the seat and hoped to be fine to receive the communion. When I thought I was okay. I walked towards the lay minister. And that’s when he turned his back and went back to the altar. Oh yeah!

Moment 4: Today is the Feast of Corpus Christi (Latin, Body of Christ). I didn’t understand the homily because the priest was old and gibberish. And out of everything that seemed like a rant, this was the only one that made sense: “When you give everything to a person, you expect to be given everything back. But as Christians, we should be selfless like our Lord Jesus Christ.” I was like, “Oh yes, father! Let’s talk about giving everything, and being selfless.”

Moment 5: Mama and Papa were watching a feature on Manila Ocean Park earlier. Obviously, they were showing swimming fishes. I don’t know what my father saw, but I heard him protest, “Oh! Ginagataan yan ah!” I wonder what fish that was. Kinunot na pagi? O kinunot na pating?

Moment 6: My new play list includes, ‘I Don’t Trust Myself (With Loving You)’, but I think ‘1234’, so please ‘Give Me a Chance’, because I want you to be my ‘Everything’. FTW!

That’s all folks! I’m back!

sorry.

I woke up at around 12 pm because I can’t force myself back to sleep anymore. I went out of the room, sat on the sofa, and stared blankly at the floor. My mom saw me and asked what’s wrong. Maybe she heard me cry last night. And I wish I knew why I cried last night. Sabi ko pa naman kay Ferds na parang ang corny umiyak mag-isa, parang episode before suicide – walang ibang tao para i-comfort ka, ikaw at ikaw lang talaga.

Sa totoo lang, sobrang gulo ng mundo ko ngayon. From manageable to chaotic in one night. I really find it hard to fix everything lately. Maybe I did things to offend people. How I wish they’d just understand me right now. I have grown paranoid, and extra sensitive. And it’s not helping.

I’ve been thinking about so many things lately. That includes death. I trust myself that I won’t do it. I didn’t even want to mention this here. I don’t want sympathy. But I feel the more I hold things back for myself, the harder for me to handle myself. I need to breathe.

You just don’t have the idea how weird it feels to look at the ceiling and think of hanging yourself, to remember that you can hang yourself and die sitting, to take a late night bath and feel like you’re preparing for something, to want to cry but you just can’t do it, to remember how to be strong.

I’m not writing for show. I just want people to understand that I’m just human. I commit mistakes. I always try to be happy. I get frustrated. I get tired. And I understand that I can’t ask the world to be gentle.

I’m not dying soon. Or at least, I wish. I took chances, got overwhelmed with uncertainties, it bumped me off track. I’m on the process of reverting, stay with me, people. Stay with me.

it was me, not the alcohol.

I feel shitty especially after everything that happened last night. I just don’t get it. I don’t blame the alcohol. I blame friends who tried to play savior. I don’t want people thinking that just because I’m tipsy, it follows that I’m too loose to think for myself. Puta naman.

Oo nga, nandun na tayo. Friends, we love each other like brothers and sisters. But sometimes, let me fall off the cliff. Or let’s jump off the cliff together. Or you can always break my fall. Or after falling together, let’s talk about the experience. ‘Cause friends, sometimes, I need to learn it by myself. I love y’all, but I just have to do things on my own.

But love is solid when I have like 8 out of 10 friends who’ll be willing to catch me after the jump. For that, much love and thanks goes for everybody.

And as for you: I’m an English major. We learned how to analyze sentences on the surface, down to its deep structure. But you know what; there is something in ‘I appreciate your honesty’ that I don’t get. That’s something that you have to spell out for me. And that’s something that I have to be okay with.

I remember bits and pieces. I trust my friends when they try to fill the gap. One question: what’s holding you back?

touch my hand.

I’m currently listening to Touch My Hand. This is ultimate LSS. I was listening to it from the moment I sat in front of the computer, and it’s 2 am in the morning. It makes me all light and jumpy. It bangs my brain cells. It makes me feel happy.

So common y’all. Let’s sing:

debsoc semplanning.

I never thought of making a bathroom as a common hall. Or to even create one bathroom with two doors connecting two rooms. It’s as amazing as calling a place Malacanan as it shatters the affixed idea of an at least decent palace. Nevertheless, it was fun, because for one, there was the alcohol and two, because we were productive.

Not that I’m proud, but I was an hour late. Call time was 5 am, I arrived at 6. It was because I decided not to sleep anymore, but found myself snatching a quick nap. I woke up at 3:30 am with an unpacked bag. So just imagine the struggle to think what to prioritize first – bath or bag, bath or bag? Then, the morning drivers weren’t too energetic, and aren’t really willing to step on the accelerator. So, there I was late.

The sem planning proper was okay. With a sleeping bag, an uninflated air bed, and a double deck, we were locked up in a room for a whole day. The room had an aircon that froze with ice after hours, that explains the need to defrost to make it function again. And yes, the LCD projector made things worse. It released hot air like a bonfire for those who sat on the floor.

We had lunch and dinner breaks, and breakfast for the morning after. Angelo was our head cook. We also had a bagful of chocolates from Pearl. And I also understand that it was AnaRod’s first time to cook rice and Anna A’s first time to cook corned beef – which was …. Okay, moving on.

I don’t know what time we actually ended. All I know is that I wanted to sleep towards the end, and so I did after Anna thanked us for participating and for being strong and resilient like the bamboo. Okay, part false matter. When I woke up, people were already in the pool, some were just talking in other rooms, and some were living the rockstar life. Read: booze, cigs, and videoke.

And remember what I told you about not puking when drinking? I take it back.

This would probably be my last sem planning with Debsoc, as it is also my first time. It sucks to think that I’m on my last year. But I can always be the alumnus who would grace the next.

The start of classes was moved. That just gave me an extra week of being unproductive. Good thing, I attended this. Cheers for Pansol!

Special thanks to Pearl.

making it good for memories.

I just finished reading Lean’s entry today. His thoughts on his last year in college, on leaving his family again, on returning to a gloomy Baguio, on what has happened throughout the years, on the idea of ending, is just depressing. His is not that different to mine. It’s my last year in college and there’s that subtle pressure of making it good for memories. It forces me to pause, think, and sigh. Like every good thing, you just can’t help but wish it wouldn’t stop.

It’s depressing too that this is a depressing entry. Emo, at best. With the weather outside and the silent room behind me and this computer, being emo is the default mood for writing. I haven’t finished enrolling yet. This means that today, there’s a high chance to see friends, blockmates, coursemates, even random individuals that I seem to see often, again.

Last year. I’m now counting down the days that I’ll be able to see these faces again within UP. I’ll definitely miss CAL, DECL and the staff that makes it one of best departments in Diliman, my English professors, the Institute of Creative Writing, the Creative Writing professors that I have had, FC and our nook in Galeria 2, random instructors/professors that I love even if I haven’t been under them, classmates turned friends, the CAL librarians, who for the most part are still capable of being nice, our ever loving CAL guards Mang Boy and Mang Amor, Magdangal, Katag, even the chickens! And yes, including Debsoc.

I need to be happy. I have two full semesters ahead of me. This is my last year. I’m clashing head-on. Let’s all make it good.

wask, 'di buo.

Tumangis ako ngunit walang mga luha na magsasabi na sadyang ginawa nga. Naka-upo, nakalupasay, may pagnanais na itigil ang pagkilos sa magulong mundo na ito at hayaan nalang itong uminog hanggang maiwan ako. May pagnanais na maging tulad ng bato sa ilog – nakapirmi at nagmamasid – dahil sa lahat ng ito, seryoso, pagod na ako.

Si Patrick, balahura pero totoo. Sa sobrang totoo, nasaktan ako nung tinanong n’ya, “kailan kita makikitang hindi umaasa?” Sabi ko, “putang ina mo.” Pero siguro habang buhay nalang akong ganito. Kadiri, totoo.

1:30. Bahala na ang ulan lunurin ang pungay ng aking mga mata hanggang malusaw ang bugnot ng gabi. Nang sa pagputok ng umaga makita ng langit ang namumugtong mata. Ngingiti upang ikubli, dali-dali. Isang huwad.

Isa sa mga paraan upang dayain ang pagpapahayag ng damdamin sa pagsusulat: PUTANG INA.

Sa totoong buhay, hindi ako mahilig tumakbo. Pero kanina, takbo ako ng takbo.

Diwang pinagkaitan ng linaw at pagkakaisa, sa watak-watak na pangungusap nagkakasiya. Pilit mang lumikha ng isang buo, bandang huli, bumabagsak rin sa pormang ganito.

bleh.

I fell asleep with Sean on the sofa. I woke up at 3 am and decided that I can’t take it anymore. My back was then hurting and Sean was already occupying most of the space. I wanted to stretch so bad, and so I’ve decided to continue sleeping on my own bed. When I woke up, my back was still hurting, and it hurts even more. And as of typing time, Sean is still sleeping comfortably. I want to wake up the freaking cat for revenge.

Tomorrow is June 2. That means, with the 6 units that I got from the magnificent CRS, my miseries will also start tomorrow. I need 2 MSTs, an AH, and a major. June 3 is another Epistaxis day. June 4 is HS batchmate day. June 5-6 is Debsoc semplanning. June 9 is the start of first semester ‘09-‘10. Oh, how can I possibly rest? I feel so bleh.

My hair is frustrating. It makes me sad. I think I’ll get a haircut today.

quirky.

So, I was late for Fast Forward today. My mom can’t still absorb why I had to go to UP even if my summer classes are already over. Enrollment starts next week, then I’m off to Debsoc sem planning next weekend (hopefully), then come Tuesday, my days as a senior student will start.

***

Trix had to go to Math building to appeal the final grade that she got. And since me and Tina weren’t really doing anything earlier, we came with her. We took the old Toki route because we thought it would be faster. We went past the old Registrar, the then called Teletubby Land, and saw the abandoned construction site. And because we’re bibo and all, we chose to climb the steep slope instead of taking the long road that goes around. I slipped from the first slope I tried to climb and got my left hand peeled a bit. The next slope was kinder. I took pictures of Tina and Trix from the top.

***

I don’t know if my mind is too polluted. But, these pictures found at the back of Milo sure looks…weird.

me, first day, phil fashion week 09.

Last night I was at SMX for the first day of Philippine Fashion Week Holiday ‘09. I wouldn’t be there if not for Pom who gave the invites for Marlon Rivera’s show. Invites, which by the way, are scarce. So I really, really have to thank Pom for this one.

Going there was an event in itself. Especially when you have Mahon being in MRT when Karmina already passed 9 stations and me, being able to catch up when she already reached Taft. We didn’t know what happened to her. Maybe she mistook a PNR station as a MRT station. Trivia: Mahon arrived last at SMX. So, my theory has potential. Joking.

I felt bad for Mahon and Karmina too. They were both wearing yellow dresses. Karmina’s had prints, Mahon’s was plain. I was wearing green. Together, we looked like mangoes, or bananas, or even bamboos! So we had to spread out a bit.

I think Pom went out twice. She looked like a different person altogether. She was more of Andromeda, less as Pom. You can see that she really like love what she’s doing.

I also saw Sarah Myers last night. She was freakin’ tall, as in freakin’ tall. Mahon even said, “mahihirapan s’ya maghanap ng partner dito, kailangan pa n’ya manigbangbansa.” Ganun siya katangkad, friend! Gina de Venecia was sitting on the first row. I wasn’t really expecting her to be there, much more to be on the first row.

It was a quick show. But it was good. There were clothes that I wanted to have, but I wished there were more for guys. Charcoal and black were dominant. Some were in plum, some in silver, while some in a shade of blue that I don’t really like. For me, the strength of the collection is its wearability.

Fashion Week continues up until June 3. Again, don’t forget to watch Philippine Fashion Week TV at ETC, 9pm if you want to see the collections without leaving your homes. I just learned that they were showing last year's collection. But you can still watch for the sheer delight of it.

hours before phil fashion week 09.

I’m really excited for Philippine Fashion Week. It’s going to open today with SM Department Store, Marlon Rivera’s Collection, and Premier Collection A featuring Angelo Estera, Jerome Salaya Ang, Joel Escober, Randall Solomon, Raoul Ramizrez, and Yako Reyes.

I think this year they’ll be broadcasting the shows via ETC. So don’t forget to tune in every 9 pm. Sarah Myers will be hosting it. It’s like getting invites for each and every show.

But I do have one major problem: I don’t have a camera for tonight. Boo.

***

By the way, meet Jack Brennan. His recent projects include Dior Homme and Moschino. He looks thinner than me. See! I have potential.

Photographer: Txema Yeste

i wanna be a supermodel.

Once upon a time, ‘male model’ is synonymous solely to tall, buff men, with rock hard abs complimented with a well chiseled face. We envy them because they cross borders – walking runways and posing for magazines. Marc Jacobs, Calvin Klein, and such became so trivial for them.

But meet the new breed of male models rocking the international scene. Meet Ash Stymest. I think he’s just 17. He is said to be a favorite of Vogue Hommes Japan. Also appearing in other magazines like Electric Youth, Rodeo Magazine Italy, Dazed and Confused, and many more. He’s ranked 13th internationally.

There’s also Josh Beech. Aside from modeling, he’s also the lead singer of the rock back Snish. Find him gracing the pages of magazines like Vogue International, Vogue Italia, and Arena Homme +. Ranked 11th.

Included in this list is 17 year old Luke Worral. He stands 6’ flat and his waist measures 28”! He already appeared in Teen Vogue, Dazed and Confused (Japan), V Man, Arena Homme +, etc. Ranked 19th.

Then there’s Cole Mohr. He already graced the covers of Sportswear International and Arena Homme +. His recent advertisings include Costume National and Marc by Marc Jacobs. Ranked 14th.

In the future, there will be a Marc Siapno, ranked nth internationally. I just need to put on more weight and grow more to reach at least 5’9. But let’s scratch that shiz. I'm kidding. I have a different plan altogether.

***

Philippine Fashion Week Holiday 2009 starts tomorrow! Hoorah!

new one.

Some friends really do that. They call me in the middle of the night to talk about things, or to just wake me up for nothing. I don’t know have problems with that. To some extent, I find it sweet.

Last night, someone was calling me persistently because I wasn’t picking up. When I aswered it, she won’t talk. And when I checked my phone, I realized that I don’t recognize the number. So first thing in the morning, I texted, “Who’s this? Do I know you? You were waking me up last night.” And the reply was, “Ha? Your number is in my BF’s name. Who are you?”

Surprise, surprise. I have a new one (and I don't even know when and how I got her!).

restraint.

Hawak mo na yung sigarilyo, yung lighter nasa lamesa lang. Kapag pinili mong sindihan yan, hindi malabong kasunod na ang isang malalim na hininga at ang paulit-ulit na paghithit. Pagkatapos ng ilang minuto, upos nalang ang matitira. Bigla mong maaalala ang pangako mo sa sarili na titigil ka na. Sasabihin mo sa sarili mo, “promise, yun na yung last.”

Kinabukasan magsisindi ka ulit ng isang stick, tapos sa susunod ulit na araw, tapos sunod-sunod na. Gagawa ka ng mga imbentong dahilan para hindi ka masyadong ma-guilty. Tapos mapapagod ka, sususko, kakalimutan ang lahat.

Kalimitan ganyan din ang nangyayari sa mga New Year’s resolutions, mga diet plans, mga gawa-gawang schedule ng pag-aaral ilang araw bago mag-exam, at marami pang iba. Mahirap ibahin ang nakagawian. Mahirap sumunod. At mas pipiliin mong ituloy-tuloy ang isang bagay na nakasanayan dahil, aminin mo, mas madali kasi.

Sino ba nagsabing hindi mahirap magpigil?

Mas madali manuntok, mas madali magmura, mas madali manakit ng tao. Siguro kung ‘yan pinili ko, iba problema ko ngayon – kung paano ipapaliwanag yung ginawa ko para magtunog na katanggap-tanggap at kung paano hihingi ng paumanhin para ibalik ang lahat na parang walang naganap.

Pero, hindi. Pinipilit kong magpigil kasi ‘di bale na yung mukha kang tanga dahil walang nakaiintindi sa mga kinikilos mo, ‘di bale na ang sakit na ng ulo mo sa higpit ng pagkakakagat mo h’wag lang magsalita, ‘di bale nang kunwari wala pero meron, kaysa gumawa ng mga bagay na pagsisisihan sa huli.

Lahat ng tao maghihintay ng paliwanag. Magmumukha kang masama kung hahayaan mo nalang yung ibang tao na bumuo ng mga posibleng dahilan. Pero kung tutuusin, minsan mas mabuti na yun. Dahil minsan, mas magmumukha kang masama kung magpapaliwanag ka, tapos hindi naman nila maintindihan kung bakit ganun. Tumahimik ka nalang.

Tatahimik nalang ako kasi hindi mo rin naman maiintindihan. Maiinis ka sa akin, pero isipin mo rin na hindi naman aabot sa ganito kung hindi ako unang nainis sa’yo. Ayoko nalang ng gulo. Mas masakit yun sa ulo.

Mahirap magpigil. Kaya sana kayanin kong magtimpi. Hindi ako sisigaw, hindi ako magagalit, hindi ako mananakit, hindi ako makikipag-away. Mag-iiba muna ang lahat. Pupulutin yung lighter na nasa lamesa, magsisindi ng sigarilyo, bibira ng isang malalim na hininga, pagkatapos bubuga.

alfha.

Yesterday, Typhoon Emong passed through land – causing hard rain that betrayed the season of summer. My sneakers got soaked, my jeans were dripping, and my cardigan was damp. I hated my hair. My umbrella was leaking. And when I thought I was already running late, my professor didn’t come to class. Great.

Apparently, my other professor said in advance that we won’t meet that day. He has to fulfill department responsibilities among other things. I remember him saying, with a hint of apology, “I don’t have any problems, other people do.” That left me with nothing to do for the whole day.

The rain made my blockmates disappear, including some friends that I was expecting to be around. I had to thank Trixia for staying for as long as she can. I didn’t want to go home yet, especially when I just arrived at school.

Thanks also to Sir Wendell Capili for allowing me to stay in his class. Never mind that it was already around 6 pm and the class started at 5. That’s also where I found most of my blockmates.

After class, it was time to celebrate – Alfha style. It was her birthday. We had pancit canton. In other words, nagcantunan kami. Nagcantunan kami nung gabi kila Kuya Narry, kung kailan malakas ang ulan, kung kailan basang-basa ang paligid, nagcantunan kami. Masarap siya at nakakabusog, may tinapay pa. Bawal ang malisya.

It was one of those times that everyone was one and as one we had fun. We got wet, but didn’t mind. Everything was conjugal and the threat of H1N1 wasn’t in mind. We laughed, and laughed harder as the rain did. And made flashes from the camera more than the sky could. It was our kind of fun.

We shall party somewhere formally. They promised. Then, we went home high, happy. I was freakin’ happy.

summer rain.

I feel love. The summer rain evokes a feel good vibe – something fresh, bountiful, and, I don’t know, wet? It’s one of those times when it’s best to play your chill out music, make a hearty cup of coffee, and write.

It also makes me want to go out – with jacket, umbrella, and slippers on – just to take time to walk and feel the vacant streets. Maybe to hold hands and use the subtle chill as an excuse to cuddle. Or, use that umbrella to catch and meet a new one.

Today’s rain is a bit shy, a bit gentle. It’s as if it’s showing its own brand of restraint. Summer rain, it really amazes me. This is love. I really want to say, I love you. But everything will be off at this point.

I’m taking my time to watch you, to excite myself of something that doesn’t come too often. I’m learning how to be patient. Rushing is fatal. I should know. This is better because it exploits discontentment and puts it under a good light. This is love and I’m full of it.

Sean is still sleeping on the couch. I want to wake him up. But I realized he’s cuter that way. I poked him a couple of times when I woke up. But he won’t move. He looks like a plush doll. I guess he’s staying at home.

But me, it’s time to get moving. I have class until 3pm and I’m done for the week. I want to go out later. But I don’t know where to go. I want to go out later. But I don’t have anyone to go out with. Maybe we can go out together?

Summer rain makes the brain tick differently. I feel love.

for today.

It’s funny how even at this point I’m still hurting. When I thought Fred took over the emo department for his recent heartbreak, here I am again telling him to vacate my office. Or maybe because I have to be this way to continue the Batac legacy and ensure it’ll live forever.

Honestly, this is disgusting. I think it’s uncalled for. And at best, this is really pathetic. But I probably need this. I have to proceed to a higher level of desensitization, of feeling pain until it hurts no more.

I have thought about this. This is my fault. I shouldn’t have agreed to be friends with you again (even if from the onset this was what I really wanted). I should have changed my number so you won’t be able to reach me anymore. But no, you even had the guts to give me your new number and update me with your life. Something that I regret that I have willfully accepted.

I just wish that you’ll realize that it’s still not fine with me when you talk about your new one. Why? Because I don’t care. The only point when I’ll care about you and the new one, is when your relationship starts to crumble, and me being the good friend that I am, will tell you that it’s fine while I’ll laugh at your back and enjoy this wondrous moment. And then, I start to sound bitter.

Eh bakit ba naman kasi ang hirap ma-achieve ng happiness? Fuck, what a question.

To be fair, I always have the option to pester you back. I know how to, remember? But this is my chance to prove that I’m the better person. I’m taking this chance. I’ll rise above you.

This is enough meditation for today. Imma get busy with a friend. O ‘di naman kaya, magpapabarya nalang ako (na medyo imposible kasi ang elusive ng coins). Or, I’ll just memorize my Shakespeare lines because midterms is on Wednesday (which is like, tomorrow). And I think that’s better.

P.S.: It's not the case of me still in love with you. It's a simple play of shoulds, woulds, and coulds. Come think of it, I was a damn good lover. Self-absorbed, I know. But like a phantasma, you just can't deny it.

P.P.S.: I woke up today happy - yes, a bit hurting, but am sure damn happy.

driving passion.

Passion is an all too powerful drive. It can make you do things you won’t usually do. And most of the time, these things are the same things you’ll regret when passion subsides.

Anger, for example, is a strong feeling of extreme displeasure. When mixed with alcohol, it can cause a husband to hit his wife. Husband gets sober and tells her, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to”. Lust, a strong sexual desire, can push you to screw the one you like. But when you contract STD or get her pregnant, I bet you’ll regret everything. And love, a strong feeling of affection, can enable you to do so many things – even death. But even if you regret things, you know it still stands. The act was done and it can’t be undone.

Control is important. There is a value in restraint. But nobody said it was easy – a line from The Scientist. If everything was, we’ll all be living in a happy world.

Passion is infinite. Control is not. When Control dies, Passion continues. And we’ll go back searching for the person we want to be. When we think we already found the one, we’ll realize that that person is not the one we want to be. Because like Passion, discontentment is infinite.

Oftentimes, we’ll regret Passion. But this thing that we regret is the same, exact thing that we’ll all need to continue to live, to survive. That’s what makes Passion an all too powerful drive. This piece ends here because Control is important.

mga bagay na dapat mong malaman.

1. Pag-gising ko isang umaga, napag-isip-isip ko, wala na rin pala talaga akong pakialam sayo.
2. May mga bagay na hindi na mababago at mababawi.
3. Kung kinailangan ipilit, ibig sabihin 'di tugma mula sa simula.
4. May konsepto ako ng pinaglumaan.
5. Kasama sa mga plano ko sa buhay ang mag-move on. Subukan mo isama yan sa mga plano mo. Sabi kasi nila maganda raw yun. Try mo lang.

mary left.

Today the old ladies took Mary away. The same Mary to whom I gave deep red mums. The same Mary my family prayed to night after night for one week. The same Mary who, I think, was here years ago.

Being Catholics, we receive these kinds of things to our home. In some weird sense, though not explicitly admitted, it’s a way of testing faith and adherence to the teachings. It’s being open to these devout people when all of sudden the image of Mary, The Virgin, doesn’t have any home to go after the last house. In its crudest sense, it’s sheltering the homeless.

I’ve always been skeptical of people. I believe that for every intention lies another subliminal intention. In this case, it’s the envelope. Enclosed within is a sheet of paper asking for petitions. But we’re not dumb. My parents know we have to put some amount with it.

Mama asked me if I have any petitions. I told her to put Pres. Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo, to ask for them to pray for the welfare of the Philippines, to pray for the oppressed farmers, and to ask the old ladies to pray for themselves. You know, for them to have the continuous drive to do things, and I don’t know, even enlightenment. Of course, I wasn’t taken seriously.

Before they took Mary away, they had this sort of ceremony. They sang songs and let Mama read the Gospel. I thought it would end there. But they asked my mom to share her “understanding” of the reading. Kemlar, kemlar. Then the ladies took turns in sharing their reflections. Claps every after turn. One of the old ladies even managed to tieback her reflection to the “essence” of their charismatic group and the “relevance” of their deeds. It took them a while to finish. Ang daming kemez. May collection pa! But don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying they’re fake. I’m just not a fan of theatrics especially when praying.

They also gave Mama this sheet of paper to fill out. One item was asking for any miracle that happened to us. Mama turned to me for answer. I told her, “’wag ka na mag-imbento kung wala.” Of course I know everyday is a miracle in our life. But what’s the point of asking if any miracle happened to us? A form of divine assessment?

I was typing this entry during the whole ceremony. Apparently, one lady was loitering outside while the rest of her sisters were busy doin dur thang. She peeked through the window and saw me. I was offended and felt I was judged for not participating. So I gave back an offensive stare. I was supposed to ask if her sole purpose was to consume the snacks we’ve prepared. Good thing she went back to the group. But don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying they’re fake. But when you’re with a group that has every intention to pray, sister, just pray.

Finally, when they were recounting how the image of The Virgin ended up at our house one of them said:
Kemez 1: Buti nalang po tinanggap n’yo kemez kemez… ‘Di tulad nung iba, tulad nalang nila Sister Meding (our neighbor), pinagtataguan si Mama Mary.

Ay! Kamusta naman sa judgment?!

Today the old ladies took Mary away. And the old ladies were with Mary when they left. Bow.

missing pi ay di si*.

I woke up early today to write about PIDC 2009. But I feel so bleh. My first sentence was really disgusting. So this is what you have now – random thoughts to fill the urge to create an entry.

This sounds really chaka (as we put it), but I think I miss it. I miss the people. I just enjoyed seeing everyone. Judge me, but kebs. I’ll say it anyways. I miss the Ateneo presence. I also miss seeing people from UP Manila, from STC Cebu, and one or two from UP Baguio.

I miss the issues, the drama, the burst of ego masked by each team’s “institution pride”. I miss the everyday UP Diliman huddle, the prayer addressed to no one in particular but to the Higher Being (yes, we know how to pray), ended every time with a roaring “UP Fight”. I miss carrying stuff – huge boxes, coolers, and bundled papers alike – for making me realize that I’m really a strong person. Chosss lang!

I’m really proud of UP Diliman for the full break and for the championship. Other institutions will refute, but our Higher Being knows that we were also competing with the guidance of the “Saint of Fair Play”. I’m proud of Teenahips, of Paolo, of Maan, of Angelo Kalaw, of Marc Batac, and especially of Mikee (first time to compete and yet, grabbed the 10th Best Adjudicator recognition). I’m proud of UPD B, C, D, E, F, especially of Team A (PIDC 09 Champion). I’m proud of the PIDC 2009BOD. I’m proud of the support staff. And yes, I’m proud of me for reasons I don’t even know. Chosss take two!

Now that PIDC over, I’m forced to face my readings on Rizal and Shakespeare, to attend classes, to take exams, and to deliver reports, and be partially deprived of social life due to acads. I wish it was PIDC allover again because I feel “emptiness” (Batac, 2009). But I’ll stop at that. Baka ma-guest pa ako sa bagong show sa Channel N – Paki-realize with Jowee and Sam.

I miss PIDC. I miss a lot of things about it. But, I’ll end here. I have class in a couple of hours and I still need to read.

Cheers for Love! (huh?)

*PIDC, Philippine Inter-Collegiate Debating Championship.

notes on relationship.

For a relationship to be a relationship, two entities must be present. Absence of another spells fail. Even the dictionary defines “relationship” as the state of being interrelated.

Relationships are also based on the idea of reciprocity. One of the members of the relationship will initiate an action, the other needs to deliver a response (not necessarily a reaction, something noncanonical) and vice versa.

Some relationships are healthy, some are not. A decaying body-soil relationship is healthy, a mussel-barnacle relationship is not.

Occurrences in a relationship will revolve on what is natural. So that when you throw a chicken in a pool of two alligators, don’t expect one of the alligators to be philanthropic. It is natural for them to fight and struggle to get that whole chicken for themselves. In the same way that when one initiates a fight, with accusations being thrown and all, don’t expect the other to pray the novena for the intercession of the angels and saints. If you want a fight, then you will get a fight. It is just natural.

In a relationship, it is possible to love and stop there – devoid of any labels, commitments, and shit.

In any relationship, there is a fine line that exists between being sensitive and being assuming. Remember: Do not assume unless stated. Avoid pain.

Are you in a relationship?

Relationships thrive on the presence of one another. The urge to be together will always be present. But sometimes LESS is MORE. The less time you see each other, the more you value time when you’re together.

They say everybody deserves a second chance. Relationships will pass through rough roads, but if you want to make it last, give him/her another chance. But if that’s the case, does it mean that we’re free to waste our first chance?

We always search for the ideal girl/guy. But my Religion teacher back in high school said that we’ll only meet failure every time. So what’s the point of searching? He said that the ideal girl/guy doesn’t exist in real life. It exists up there. It can never be attained. What we should do is to search for that person who can best approximate our ideals. A call to be realistic. This reminds me of Plato.

Rafael had a girlfriend. Until one day, his girlfriend came up to him and said, “I told him I like him.” She was referring to another guy. They broke up. In theory, two entities must be present to be in a relationship. In practice, it is possible to have one entity is in a relationship, while the other flutters like a butterfly.

When relationships end, should it really end?

Or like endings, should we expect something else?

*boy or girl?

Michael graduated salutatorian yesterday. Instead of delivering a salutatory address of some sort, he just led the pledge. I won’t lie that I had this illusion of writing him another speech. But then again, the school decided to do something else this year. So, fail. I have to be okay with that.

As expected, I had no value all throughout the ceremony. I didn’t even have a reserved seat. Both of our parents were going up and down the stage for different awards. Mariel was with Michael’s girlfriend. Good thing Kath and Lean came to watch with me. We had fun “constructively criticizing” the graduates (makeup, hairdo, and valedictory address included), the parents, the ceremony itself, and our former schoolmates who came.

The whole ceremony started at 4 pm with a Baccalaureate Mass and ended at 10 pm. No exaggerations. So after the whole thing, our next problem was where to eat.

My suggestion was to go home, sleep, and celebrate tomorrow. Their’s was to scout for an open restaurant and celebrate ASAP. We found one, Max’s. But my brother has this thing of not eating in restaurants where there’s another graduate celebrating. We had to find another one. It was around 11 pm.

We ended up in the most prestigious place where a graduate can eat and celebrate – Burby’s/Tapa King.

Michael’s girlfriend was supposed to come. Later on my brother explained why she can’t. I’d rather not share why, because he’ll hate me again for not taking it/her reason seriously. I tagged Lean and Kath with me. They’re family, my parents should know that.

I could have chosen to spend the rest of the night with Kath and Lean – drink and party somewhere, get wasted, and celebrate. But we all needed to go home. One, I don’t want Kath to go home drunk. She just asked her parents to watch my brother’s graduation with me. Two, I just snatched Lean from a “meeting” he had with a classmate. I think his parents didn’t even know that I was with him. Three, I still had school requirements waiting to be finished. How unfortunate.

Back to my brother: I’m not sure if he already has a definite plan on where to go to college. From the last time I wrote an entry about him, he had a 360 decision spin on what he wants to do with the rest of his life. From taking premed and continuing medicine, to engineering. He’s definitely not going to UP. He failed to get into a program. It was all premed, that’s why. Talk about, first choice: Nursing, UP Manila; second choice was, I think, Physical Therapy, UP Manila; then BS Psychology, UP Diliman; and finally, some premed quota course, UP Diliman. Great. A sure ball fail.

Last time I heard, he’s going to MIT. Not where Noam Chomsky is to be found, but in Mapua. They brag to have pioneered the quarter system/term in the country. Meaning, a five-year course can be finished in four, a four-year course in three to three and a half. But let’s extend the analysis.

A quarter term program would only mean paying tuition fee four times in one academic year. You can now deduce reasons why I don’t want this to happen. But in one word: MAHAL. It’s a financial hurdle for me, inasmuch as it is my family’s. The global recession is far from over.

We all still have roughly two months to plan and strategize. My initial suggestion is for Michael to enter MIT and shift to UP after a year. My parents doubt the idea.

Like most of my entries, I don’t know how to end this one. So, I’ll just show you our parking lot shots instead.

*sometimes, titles, like labels, are irrelevant.

mayer’s stupid mouth was really for me: an apology

Sometimes you get too fond of people that you forget that you just “know” them. I did know who Cha is, who Tyron is, who Ron is, who Gelo is, and the rest of my acquaintances. I can never say, “You know my friend Ron was this and that…,” because I can’t call them friends. I just happened to know them.

Lean doesn’t only know me. He understands me (I hope). In the same way that Kath does, Paula does, Fred does, and so on. Fred won’t be offended (given the right context) if I ask, “tanga ka ba?” Or if I tell Kath things like, “I wanted you to grow and learn.” I chose to know them, understand them in the process, and treated them as friends. The effort was reciprocated. That’s the reason why I can talk about them starting with, “You know my friend [insert name]…”

Sometimes the classification of those people who I know just “knows” me versus those who I know who “understands” me fades to quick to be noticed. People get offended with the way I talk, when I share what I think, when I get to aggressive with ideas, and the like. They always think I was flaunting “it”, which was never the case. I get too excited. I assume they understand me, and I end up receiving cold treatments.

It always bothers me when people say I’m arrogant, or when they think I treat them lowly. I don’t befriend others just to bully. I befriend others because, just because. I don’t even need a reason. I don’t talk to those who I don’t even want to get close to (not like some people I know).

That’s why if I ever crossed the line, offended you, and felt like I was looking down on you. Believe me that it was not, in any way, intentional. That I’m serious when I say, “I’m sorry,” because I am really sorry, JC.

to manifest rejection.

Rejection is ordinary. You can repulse it or embrace it, but rejection would always be ordinary. And yet the sensation it leaves us, the emotion that we draw will always be alien, foreign, not ordinary.

Rejection is the body’s desire to sleep and the mind’s choice to stay awake. Rejection is being able to pull the blanket and still ending up being cold. Rejection is choosing to get out of the bed to feed a starving body. Rejection is the concoction of soda, mangoes, and an aching tummy. Rejection is the experience of choking. Rejection is the impulse to press letters on the keyboard and choosing not to sleep. Rejection is choosing not to sleep because pain haunts when eyes are shut. Rejection is the inability to drown pain in silence, in darkness, in peace. Rejection is believing that this is no longer about you, but the internal rejection to process and place everything in right slots to fill gaps, to understand.

And so my thought stops and gags just to say I feel rejected in ways I can’t explain. In the same way that you can’t probably understand the point of this text because this, in itself, is a form of rejection.

in need of friend(s).

I think I need a new friend. I’m thinking of someone like Lean, the only person who can occupy the first spot in my friends list. Someone supportive, has the same brain frequency that I have, easy to make laugh, loves clothes, loves to go out and have fun, can give time when he’s free, has no issues with staying up late, and a fellow fan of food. Someone who seems to be myself, except that he’s in a different mould, a different body. Someone near. I wouldn’t ask for a new one if Lean was just around. Don’t worry, I don’t like comparing friends. You don’t need to be him. Just be there when I need you and I’ll do the same. Let’s be friends, can we?

***

This won’t make me less of a man. But I really miss old friends. Obviously, Lean. And for the sake of being fair, Kath too.

enough of banapple.

They went to Banapple again, for the nth time. They wanted to eat the same pasta dish on the menu, the same cake on display, the same food all over again, for the nth time. I think.

I’ve been there twice. I think I can afford to not visit again for the next couple of weeks or maybe for the next month. Not that the food sucks. I bet you’ll love their menu. And their cakes are just heavenly. I swear. It’s their pasta dishes that I’m getting sick of.

A friend said, “Maybe because you haven’t tried all of them.” But I think I don’t need to try everything to conclude that that taste of sautéed onion and/or garlic that lingers on my tongue makes me decide to skip pasta every visit. The only pasta dish that doesn’t leave that taste is their lasagna. For an obvious reason, it is tomato based. The sweet and sour taste dominates.

I wish they’d find a new place to hang out and eat. I wish that new place serves little, if not zero, Italian food. My body is developing an aversion for food that tastes that way. Let’s go to Banapple for the cakes. Of course I can always order sandwiches, but I can make my own sandwich at home. Thank you very much. Enough pasta, please.

I’m positive. This fad will die…soon.

i have emo friends.

We always know what hurts. But still we haven’t learned to stay away from those things. Because as painful as it is, if that’s the only way to feel their presence, we always give in.

We still check them every now and then just to see what’s been happening since they left. That even if sometimes we say, “we just want to see them happy”, deep in our hearts we want their happiness to be us.

From Mae.

***

Not that I’m stuck, but what happened yesterday will stay part of yesterday. Bow.

eng'g, magpakatotoo ka.

When one hears the word “engineering”, these are the things that come into mind: men, gears, engines, bolts, steel, cement, wires, hard labor, ground, okay maybe chemicals, and the list goes on. Inasmuch as I wanted to be gender fair, the idea of women doesn’t really figure in the picture. Don’t ask why, because I don’t know either.

But that’s not the point of this entry. I was thinking that if I share this perception with the rest of the people around me, then maybe there is enough reason to believe that male engineering students are afraid to assert their gender, even if they’re so sure with it or even admit to themselves that they’re confused, because the nature of the college and its courses is so alpha-male. After that sentence, you probably know where this entry is going.

Let’s talk about engineering students and their fear to not be straight.

I know someone. He’s gay. I don’t know if a lot of people know it. But he’s not my friend. He just happened to be an ex-boyfriend of a friend that’s how I came to know his nature. He doesn’t look gay. Nowadays, that’s a good thing. Because if you do, chances are, you’ll be getting loads of judgments. But anyways, he’s never shy to be gay. When he and my friend was still together, they took a lot of pictures. And you’ll know that they were a couple. He is from the College of Engineering. He is gay, never ashamed of it.

I know someone. I know within him he’s having doubts about his gender. Or maybe he’s sure and just tries to hide it. He tries so hard, as in sooo hard, to act straight. But the thing is, the more you try, the more you expose yourself. I mean, you don’t need to talk about porn like “putang ina, ang laki nung boobs nung blah blah blah” Like, riiiigght. I don’t know about other people, but I sure know if one is faking it. He is from the College of Engineering. He’s afraid to admit (even to himself) because he’s from the freaking College of Engineering.

I’m not expecting engineering student #2 to confirm to me his gender. All I’m asking is for him to be himself. If you like watching men doing it on film, then so what? You don’t need to tell me you do. Just watch what you like and stop telling me how big were the boobs of the woman from the last porn you saw. You know for a fact that you were more interested in guys. Stop the game of pretense, pare. I’m getting sick of it.

The mistake of those who reached epiphany is that they always feel the need to announce to the public that they’re not straight. As if they are looking for a form of validation, but are afraid to be judged. Who said they needed validation? Who liked judgments, anyways?

Maybe I’m being unfair. Maybe he’s sure of his gender. Maybe he’s really straight. But that’s not even the point.

Let’s assume that engineering student #2 is really straight. Then why act macho in front of the engineering crowd, just to slip and hint clues of your true self once they all go away? Let’s just repeat. Stop the game of pretense, pare. Kadiri na, eh.

Engineering student #2 you don’t need to be engineering student #1. Cliché, be yourself. I think that’s better. You’ll probably be happier. Who knows? Maybe you’ll be the next Bebe Gandanghari. Or are you just waiting for your mariposa to come? I’ll bring one, just tell me. Just stop the game of pretense, pare.

the final set that was.

Ely said in an interview that as far as Eraserheads as a band is concerned, The Final Set would be the last time that they’ll be playing together. After their breakup in 2002 and after their supposed-to-be August 30 final concert last year, this is it. As in, this is it. It was Eheads once more. Somebody turned on the time machine. It was 90s all over again.

It must be luck. Mama was project head of some chever for Fit & Right. Meaning, FOH passes for The Final Set. Confetti, confetti! Mama was VIP, Me and Yeng was Gold (but Yeng chose something else over this concert), and Michael was Bronze (because he dragged with him 2 friends).

We were in the venue during the setup. As in noon level, we were already roaming inside the concert grounds. That’s why to the guy who said that Ely’s mic “malfunctioned” in the middle of a song, know that you are so wrong. He just wanted the crowd to sing. That’s also why my t-shirt tan evened out a bit. The sun, oh the sun, was just so bright and hot.

Gates were opened at around 4pm. Heat level was consistent. The concert started at around 8:30 pm. Imagine the long wait.

Ticking sounds of a countdown. Lights out. A shower of sparks. Lights on. Then a familiar tune. Whoo oooh ooh whoo oh oooh oooh… The crowd went wild, arms in the air and voices cheering. Nakita kita sa isang magasin... Then voices went down. Everyone was awed. It was Ely, Raymund, Buddy, and Marcus in the flesh…playing together once again…as Eraserheads.

It was one of those times when people from different classes meet in one place (though still segregated). Please don’t expect me to list everything they sang. But I remember Pare Ko, Maling Akala, Maskara, Huwag Mo ng Itanong, Alapaap, etc etc etc.

As you know by now, Francis M was supposed to be the band’s surprise guest. But, Francis M died a day before the concert. Despite the incident, they still sang Kaleidoscope World as a tribute. It was one of the most magical moments of the concert. Francis M, rest in peace.

Michael’s phone got stolen during the concert. I think his last text to Mama was a SOS asking if they can be moved to a better place. And yes, Mama was able to do it. Silver? No. Gold? No. Read: VIP. But it’s fine. He missed Pare Ko (one of his favorites) because he was waiting for Mama outside the concert grounds for the passes. The look on his face was disappointment. And the good brother that I am told him, “Dito lang kayo, ha? Antayin n’yo si Mama. Pasok lang ako.” But to be fair, I was calling Mama when I was inside. Promise.

The Final Set ended with Ang Huling El Bimbo, with confetti and fireworks increasing the magic/drama of the moment. Here is my version of the moment. Of course, you can always check YouTube for better videos. I have converted this for posting purposes.

But minutes after the concert “ended”, Ely, Raymund, Buddy, and Marcus went on stage again and played three more songs for the road. When they sang Toyang, the ground started moving. Literally. Simple explanation, the whole crowd started jumping. This ain’t no exagg, but it did felt like an earthquake from where I was standing.

When it really ended, I was like, “Ay? Bitiiin!” Maybe because I knew that was it. There will be no Eraserheads playing together in the future. We’ll all have to be contented with old records and gigs by former members playing Eheads hits once in a while.

I laid on my bed with things still running in my mind. Will MTV hire me in the future? Why did we have to go home at 5 am? Why did the drinks dispenser in 7eleven had buttons for cup sizes and yet it doesn’t know when to stop? Why was I too shy to ask for the personnel-from-Enervon’s name slash number? Will I ever find true love? Joke. And yes, something related to this post: Can we just clone the four band members, immortalize them, hire ghost composers or train them to make really good songs, just so to avoid Eheads from dying? Or should I just end here?