2D

I blame Starting Over.

D: I think I'm falling for you. So I need to say goodbye.

D: That's unfair. You can't say bye to friends (ouch).

D: But it's the only way to keep me sane. I know you'll be happy.

Then he sends this a couple of days after:

D: I know I shouldn't be texting you but ex sent me a message saying sorry.

D: Go for second chances.

But then yesterday, Iza Calzado said that she's friends with all her exes, so...

D: No hard feelings between us right? Just forget about my drama last week. I hope you and your ex get your second chance!

D: Yeah, you've been good to me, really. Except for the time you said bye.

So tell me who's brave? Lol

Hospital D

Tuesday

Went up the pantry to get some coffee when I suddenly felt my thighs aching. Must've been the squats I did yesterday. Nothing that a few stretches can't fix. Went back down to my workstation, felt really tired. Head's now aching, felt like a giant clamp was squeezing a quarter of my face - from my right eye up. Had to drag myself home. Was feeling really weak.

Got home and complained of a really bad headache. It was the first time I felt that bad. Took some paracetamol. Headache's now coupled with fever. Someone at home went out to buy a thermometer. Can't remember the last time I had to use one to get my temp. The stick beeped, it was a 39. Was exchanging messages with doc; told me that it could be dengue.

It was a miracle I was able to sleep. That headache was the worst I've had ever.

Wednesday

Tatay accompanied me to the ER. Awesome, not a lot of people! A nurse took my vitals, asked me to fill out some forms and wait. Was called into a cubicle. The doctor ordered tests: blood, x-ray, urinalysis. Was asked to get some breakfast before I could be given meds for the fever.

Went around the hospital for the labs. Bought some food at the lobby coffee shop while Tatay bought some Gatorade at the nearby drugstore. Hardly ate. Felt like throwing up. Was really weak and really cold, I had to stand by the stretcher just outside the ER. Doctor's shift ended, was endorsed to another one.

Called back into the cubicle. Was a foot away from the chair when I saw the note on the lab results. Yep, it was dengue.

Good news, my platelets are within the normal range. Was advised to hydrate, take paracetamol, and watch out for bleeding. No dark colored food.

Went home to break the news. I. Can. Not. Eat.

Went back to my bed, still feeling worst than I've ever felt. Seriously, I felt like dying.

Nanay chopped up some apples. Juiced two carrots. An hour or so later, threw up that forced lunch. We needed to go back to the hospital. Throwing up was a sign.

Back at the ER, another round of blood work. My platelet count was still normal. Discharged.

Thursday

Had another round of blood work first thing in the morning. Still normal... and still cannot eat.

Friday

My arm's got a handful of needle holes. Hmmm... my platelet count went slightly up.

Saturday

Went back to the ER to get my platelet count. Was not discharged. Substantial drop. Had to be admitted.

Was on a stretcher, about lunch time, first IV ever. It wasn't as bad as I imagined... but it was a little itchy.

ER people went noticeably conscious. A lady doctor with some residents - yep, cute residents. lol - came in; trajectory: my bed.

Lady doc looked up my chart, ordered an ab ultrasound, and pressed around my tummy.

Even if I'm sick, I don't like the attention of being taken care of. But when the wheelchair arrived for my trip to the radiology unit, I was too weak to protest. Sonogram done. And now we wait again at the ER. About 30 minutes lapsed, room was finally free. Wheeled up for my first hospital stay.

It was gloomy outside. My parents went back home to get some supplies. I was alone in my room watching cars drive by.

Sunday/Monday/Tuesday

My arm was getting spotty from all the needles that pricked me at around 4:30 in the morning. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, and snacks came at predictable times. Oh and sheets were replaced at around 8am. I remember sitting down near the door as Nanay watched KrisTV.

Nurses and doctors would come in, get my vitals, give me meds. It was a routine save for this lady resident waking me up at around 1am just to poke me around with her steth. And there was this nurse who aside from getting my temp and bp, also took my pulse rate and wrote down his name on the white board across the bed. Found out from a friend who used to work in the hospital that said nurse asked him to introduce us. I still look pretty even if I'm dying and unwashed. Lol.

And thanks to friends who dropped by. There were just too many fruits, I had to share them with the nursing staff.

Wednesday

Blood results came in. Platelet count was up after dropping the past few days. The lady doctor - who I later found out was quite an institution in her field - told me that she's discharging me. That was most welcome. My IV hand was already swollen and was itching like crazy.

Asked Tatay to buy a cake for the nursing staff. Nanay cleared the bill: around P200 for my morning vitamins. Thank God for healthcards!

Was wheeled down to the lobby, my eyes peeking out the stack of pillows on top of me, and was wheeled back home.

Still felt really weak. At least now without fever. And without that terrifyingly bad headache.

Thursday

I am in class doing a presentation due last week. All's well... and I am grateful.

******

I always fancied getting admitted and throwing a party in my hospital room. Far from what I imagined, I was too weak to entertain guests. Nonetheless, your presence was most appreciated, friends.

From that whole episode - staying in the hospital, getting by with just IV and paracetamol while feeling that weak and sick for the first time ever! - I can't help but believe that my getting well was a miracle. My illness had no cure and the anointed time for my healing was set by no one but God.

And it's official, I love sinigang. That was my only saving grace because I had zero appetite for everything else. Lol

Retro MD

I'm writing again because - you guessed it! - I'm feeling a tad bit heartbroken.

I blame Got to Believe (teen love whut?!), driving through dark roads, and John Mayer x Katy Perry.

First, I hate your conflicts Got to Believe. Those decisions are too hard for teeners. You're throwing them into life and love situations that are just too difficult to process. Heck I'm already 29 and just imagining myself in similar circumstances is more than enough to make me teary-eyed and spiral into unreasonable sadness for weeks a handful of days. Why can't we just stick to the "magic" part?! I'm even willing to settle for that pseudo-boyband singing Daniel Padilla songs! Ang-hard po ng sacrifices and doing the right thing and first love but cannot be. Sobrang hard po, na-dedepress ako! Lol

Second and third, driving through that road from Sta. Lucia Mall to Ortigas Extension with John Mayer and Katy Perry singing Who You Love on the radio is S-U-I-C-I-D-E! Cold December night, holiday cheer, dreamy lights, and that oh so yummy song inevitably pain the unpaired and yearning. Maybe it's just seasonal affective disorder (SAD) or maybe I'm just being bitter. Lol.

And...

I know that we just see - or used to see - each other on a "casual" basis. You know the drill, no strings attached. And I should've known better: the occasional checks via text are just that. Why I somehow feel a tinge of hurt when I read that you're wishing for your ex back and that you tried meeting people but they just couldn't compare, I haven't figured out yet. Maybe it was because I felt that I was ready to jump in and that you could be that someone to jump in with. Or perhaps because again, I was one of them, instead of being THE one. It would've been great to start the new year on a happy note, but it is what it is.

One's name may very well be one's fate. You write well by the way and I, well I fell in love with a cybercelebrityMD.

Sunny Sunny Sunny

Rare instances I get drunk, you bet I'm at the beach. Summer 2013's no different.

Hotel's awesome. Poolside's heaven at night. Quite a walk to the beach but then I really enjoyed the trike trips to and fro. First night was THE night. Explicitly told friends rooming with me not to drink because I won't be able to take care of their drunk asses. It's my night... I'm the one getting drunk! Lol

So we went to this bar and I started loading on this blue drink. Adios Motherfucker. After 7 or 8 of those, yep, I was quite a goner... but at least I was a happy goner. Funny thing about me is that I'm a happy drunk. We hate sappy drunks, don't we? Lol. 

When I'm alcohol-laden, I tend to be my friendliest self... and God forgive me, I talk to everyone in maarte English, at least that's what witnesses say. But hey, I find it liberating being my happy drunk self: raising my glass to complete strangers, smiling to everyone I see, heck I remember swirling around a pole and talking to the guy smiling at that stunt I made. And I get all excited and giddy when I'm drunk. Lol

We were about to call it a night and was walking back to another section of the beach - everyone wanted to eat, I was too drunk to care. Lol - when another bar invited us in. So in we went! Haha. Found myself chatting up some middle-eastern guys and dancing with another gay guy and his fag hag. Friends thought I'd get hit or something by talking to random strangers but hey, everyone's happy right?! Lol. 

When they were already eating, I was apparently still talking in my maarte English and even pointed to a guy from another group saying: "He's the cutest guy in your group!" Boy was I drunk! Lol. I knew I was minutes to throwing up. I was that wasted. So we took a trike, went back to the hotel and as soon as the door opened, I freed up some blue stuff into the kitchen sink. My 2 roomies were asking if I was ok. Of course I was! Haha. And so they went on with their own business. I had to date the restroom for a bit more and yep, threw up some more. TMI, I know. Lol. When I got out of that date, saw the sun already up and my 2 ever-concerned roomies sound asleep... so much for looking out for me! Hahahaha

Back in Manila, I was in denial that I got drunk. Hey, I vividly remember what I did, and no lapses in judgment on my part, I swear! But when I saw pictures of me having that glowing blue tongue, I figured I really had one too many Motherfuckers.

Oh summer, I miss you in this rain.

:)

Now

Right at this very instance, I feel that everything's gonna be ok; that feeling of joy brewing inside your chest.

Blessed.

And I am just grateful.

I've sort of reclaimed myself. A week or two ago, I was watching Awkward and Jenna pleaded to Matty, "Please tell me what's wrong with me." That after being "hidden" by Matty, and Jake breaking up with her. It summed up how I felt about myself. Really, what's wrong with me?

But now, at this very instance, I know that I am great. God's made me to be awesome. And at the end of the day - and forgive me, I mean this without the slightest bit of bitterness - it's really not my loss.

:)

Living with HIV

In less than a week, two friends of friends died of lung failure, one of them I personally met. They fall under the at-risk demographic in the country: MSM, in their 20s and early 30s, professional.

I'd have to admit, I'm getting paranoid yet again. Although my recent encounters have been safe so far, I can't seem to dust off the idea that with how rampant HIV is right now, I too, with my anonymous casual trysts, am bound to have it. What I can't seem to come to terms with as well is the fact that these guys are supposed to be smart, they have jobs and they can therefore pay for rubber and lube. So the question is why? how?

Abstinence might just be the only foolproof way to avoid HIV or a monogamous relationship - sexual or otherwise - might do the trick. Reminds me of something I read somewhere: a relationship with no one means a relationship with everyone. Or that line from Lana Del Rey's Ride: "... I belonged to no one, who belonged to everyone...."

But the thing is that I'm unattached. I'm not in a monogamous relationship. And I don't wanna be in one just so I can have sex and sleep soundly at night that I'm in no risk of HIV infection. In spite of my rather whorish ways, I can't reconcile the idea of a regular encounter with someone devoid of emotions or attachment... plus those who attempted to make a fubu out of me inevitably developed "feelings." So much for their warning not to fall in love with them. Lol. I'm just not fubu material, I think.

So we go back to finding a partner. And we go full circle. I don't want to look for one. If he comes, he comes. It's living life in open space, whoever comes is the right person; whenever it happens is the right time. But then what do I do while that moment is still in waiting? Be safe is still my best bet. Rubber and lube - at least I hope - will suffice.

Ride

I was in the winter of my life. And the men I met along the road were my only summer. At night I fell asleep with visions of myself dancing and laughing and crying with them. Three years down the line of being on an endless world tour and my memories of them were the only things that sustained me, and my only real happy times. I was a singer, not a very popular one, who once had dreams of becoming a beautiful poet — but upon an unfortunate series of events, saw those dreams dashed and divided like a million stars in the night sky that I wished on over and over again — sparkling and broken. But I didn’t really mind because I knew that it takes getting everything you ever wanted and then losing it to know what true freedom is.

When the people I used to know found out what I had been doing, how I had been living — they asked me why. But there’s no use in talking to people who have a home, they have no idea what it’s like to seek safety in other people, for home to be wherever you lie your head.

I was always an unusual girl, my mother told me I had a chameleon soul. No moral compass pointing due north, no fixed personality. Just an inner indecisiveness that was as wide and as wavering as the ocean. And if I said that I didn’t plan for it to turn out this way, I’d be lying — because I was born to be the other woman. I belonged to no one — who belonged to everyone, who had nothing — who wanted everything with a fire for every experience and an obsession for freedom that terrified me to the point that I couldn’t even talk about — and pushed me to a nomadic point of madness that both dazzled and dizzied me.

Every night I used to pray that I’d find my people — and finally I did — on the open road. We had nothing to lose, nothing to gain, nothing we desired anymore — except to make our lives a work of art.

Live fast. Die Young. Be Wild. And Have Fun.

I believe in the country America used to be. I believe in the person I want to become.

I believe in the freedom of the open road. And my motto is the same as ever —

I believe in the kindness of strangers. And when I’m at war with myself — I ride. I just ride.

Who are you? Are you in touch with all of your darkest fantasies?

Have you created a life for yourself where you’re free to experience them?

I have.

I am fucking crazy. But I am free.

Transcript credit: http://aphrodites-whore.tumblr.com/

Amen

I immensely enjoyed Nelly Furtado's recent concert in Manila. Fronted by Gym Class Heroes, it was great soul food. She's been my hero since high school, waited a looooong time for her to come to Manila.

But my ultimate hero would have to be Paula Cole. From Me to Pearl to Be Somebody. Such glorious music. I have little hopes that she'd drop by the Philippines, but still I hope.

Her next album's Raven, indie as she's trying to race funds for the project via kickstarter. One of the packages involves a private concert at your house if you pitch in $10K or more. Hay, my mind's been daydreaming of having lots of money to get that experience. Imagine having Paula Cole in my house, playing music. I get all giddy just thinking about it.

But alas, I'm no billionaire, or even millionaire, or even a thousandillaire (haha, inventing words, I know! lol).

Someday soon, a Paula Cole gig in Boston or somewhere she might be touring.

Basta, someday!

No Other

Please don't judge me but this song makes me really happy. And I don't even understand a single word they're singing! Lol

Slipping By

It has come to this. I am bored. I have nothing to do.

I report to the office... late. I turn on my laptop, check mails, do some work, postpone some work... and then just surf. Mindless net surfing.

And then I find myself still sitting by my desk at this hour, pretending to be busy but really, I have nothing to do. Major sigh. It's like I'm waiting for something to happen, something interesting to wake me or just keep me, well, interested. I hate this and I hope this state passes soon. But then something in me says this is my default. The thing is I refuse to admit that what keeps me going is having "someone." Cliche but that song really rings true right now: "There I was an empty piece of a shell... Yes I've gone beyond existing."

That's it. I'm simply existing.

Anyway, boss has decided to close shop. For what it's worth, he's a really nice guy, beyond all those mindless things he gets himself into. Yes boss, I think you crave attention - don't kill me! - but I know that you deserve much more. I am a fan. And I'll be cheering you on, this side of the world, praying that you be well always and that you find peace and joy in your life. Mind you, I pray for joy, not happiness because that is fleeting. Just this morning, the meaning of your online name crossed my mind. And it's my sincerest desire that now that you've ended your online story, perhaps you can then let go of the sadness that your name brings. I know you liked that departure from what you claim is your rather ordinary name.

But boss, there's an end to being triste.

Know that your cheering squad here back home will never get tired of sending you a rah-rah!

And oh, the dole-outs! But then PHL is an Asian tiger na so baka Europe needs the money more. Lol

Recreational Buzz

Found myself googling poppers for a good hour! Needless to say I am intrigued and if I knew how to get one, I'd prolly be up on it already. I need to sleep this one down and let it slide. Otherwise, knowing how  "gutsy" and stubborn I can be, this might turn out to be a new hobby. Yikes.

I've had a lingering curiosity about E too. Been wanting to try one, even just a quarter of a tab. But after Oprah flashed hole-filled brains of E users, I thought twice... and thrice. The nagging's still there but my will remains strong. Thank God! I just talk my way out of it by reminding myself that smarts are all I got. I don't have the gorgeous face nor the banging body to fall back on... well at least not yet. Haha

Idleness indeed is the devil's workshop.

Rookie Sem

I used to imagine myself on the first day of classes, speaking in front of students, explaining to them the requirements of the course and what to expect for the semester. I really don't know if I fit the mold. I had a really weak voice, I tend to talk too fast and I'm prone to spaced out moments. But in spite of all those, in me was a real desire to teach. Come November 2010, an opportunity to realize that desire popped up. And so I stepped into the role... not knowing that it was way different from what I imagined.

First day of classes, I felt intimidated. I was like a poser, putting on a show while at the back of my mind, I deeply questioned my credibility to teach. Do these kids even believe half of what I'm saying? Or do they see me as just another kid forced unto them by the college for lack of instructors? And it didn't really help that I could pass off as one of their classmates: guards accosting me, searching for my ID or professors barging in on my class simply because they thought I was a student.

It was a recurring theme throughout the semester: self-doubt and trying to act nonchalantly about it.

But minus all those personal dramas, there were very rewarding moments in my rookie semester: those very real moments of silence that made me believe my students were actually listening to me (or so I thought! lol), the pleasant surprise of insightful comments during class, and reading papers that progressed from mere regurgitations to actual independent thought! Of course, reading students' comments on facebook and seeing my pictures taken by them were quite exhilirating... that is until they booted me out of their FB group and deleted those pictures with rather hilarious comments.

And that's another thing that added to my impostor side. I don't take myself seriously, how could I possibly expect these guys to take me seriously?! Glad the semester's over. Ang-hirap kaya mag-panggap.

Fast forward to March 4: done checking the final exams, currently encoding grades on my class sheet. I've said it a couple of times throughout the semester that I don't really care if some of them fail to graduate because of my class. My grading system was very transparent and it was all them. But that Friday, I was quite surprised with how I felt as I punched in the numbers and saw the changing figures in the spreadsheet's final column. I was rooting for everyone and praying, "Dear Lord, let it be 65 at the very least." Funny, but that's really how it went.

And I'm just relieved that I don't have to explain a failing grade to anyone. I leave my rookie semester with great moments in my memory bank and an army of graduates.

Thanks y'all!

- Old note re-posted from my "other" FB account, in honor of Teacher's Day :D

Sweet Nothing

How apt, living on such sweet nothing.

Me not being able to drop this equates to me being pathetic, right? I mean he's happy, living life with the people he's always wanted to. You can literally feel the sigh of relief now that he can pursue other things, and people, with you out of the way. And then I'm still here thinking through these things? Oh well, I just want to exhaust it 'til there's nothing left.

Wala naman pala masyadong nawala sa akin... kasi wala ka rin naman masyadong ibinigay.

But then again, Florence is just divine.

Second Look

Where am I now? Who am I now?

I've realized I'm a bore. At the very core of myself, there's no desire to go out and be at the center of things. I enjoy attention but I do not seek it. I'm very quiet and reserved. That's my default. I only take charge when no one else would or if it's an emergency. That's it: I take pride in being the go-to-guy. 

I'm very neat and organized, clinical even. I like process flows and seeing how things connect.

I'm very transparent. When I'm in an awkward situation or when I get excited about something, my eyes well up and I get goosebumps. I'm not a very good liar.

I'm naive. I readily believe people.

I don't think of myself as highly as other people do. Some people think I look good. Who I see is a scrawny nerd. Some people think I'm brilliant. Who I see is someone struggling to get that big break.

I'm sad. And again, that's my default. I don't find it alarming that I'm sad. It's just how I am. But then again... that's sad.

I'm insecure. My only consolation is that I still have untapped potential. Lol.

And when it comes to love, I'm not a go-getter. I prefer to be approached. I'm shy that way. Only problem is that I'm not hunky nor gorgeous, ergo I stand and wait... and wait... and wait. 

This was difficult to write. And my spinning head plus my pounding heart signals there's much more to be written but at this moment I cannot. I neither have the clarity nor the strength to dig deeper and write all of them down.

Difficult. 

The Mistress

Halfway house for the brokenhearted, that pretty much describes their home. And I've had my share of sleepovers and exchanges over dinner, with her cooking adobong pusit and a handful more dishes. She's the cool mom type with a terrible over-protectiveness on the side. Very tolerant yet never fails to remind us to be more careful with our hearts. She always says go... with caution. And did I mention that she competed for Binibining Pilipinas too? Not surprisingly she won Ms. Congeniality.

I met Tita's daughter in college and since then, I've become one of Tita's favorite wards, favorite simply because I can keep up with her daughter and side with her whenever she goes on a rant, of course with my friend as primary subject. Their home's a safe place, we can be whomever we want to be, say whatever we want to say. But Tita has a major pet peeve: respect. No holds barred as long as there is mutual respect. 

And Tita was a mistress. Her daughter, my friend, born out of an illicit affair. Ten years before they called it quits. Tita, now married to her childhood love, tells us: "Anak, I love your Tito pero I'm in love with my daughter's dad."

My friend's dad died this year. They never dropped by during the wake and never attempted to do the classic melodramatic mourning from a distance during the interment. A couple of month's ago, they made a trip up north to her lover's tomb. Friend was supposed to pay her last respects to her dad whom she knew personally up until she was probably seven years old. But friend tried her best to hold back her laughter. She thought she was the one who'll get emotional with the last goodbyes but then it was Tita who bawled her eyes out. 

Tita was the one who figured out that I "wanted" to be a housewife. She was also the one who propped me up when all my friends were against the relationships I was getting into. "Kung saan ka masaya, basta ingatan mo sarili mo." And when her story turned out to be my story, she sent out a strong message to my friends that "I told you so," shall never be said. With a raised voice she exclaimed, "Ganiyan na nga iyong nangyari sa kaibigan niyo sasabihan niyo pa ng kung anu-ano?!"

"Marami pa iyan anak, marami pang sakit na darating. Sa buhay natin, maraming taong aabusuhin ang kabutihan mo. They will take advantage. Pero pasasaan ba, sa lahat ng problema ang lagi kong sinasabi, lilipas din iyan."

Tita's up for surgery anytime this month, gallstones. And so it signaled the hiatus of awesome dinners at their place, unless of course she wields her magic over steamed fish and veggies. Yesterday I dropped by their place with two boxes of cream puffs - her request - on hand. Dinner plus some life matters convos, it was almost 11pm when I left. Sent them a message that I arrived home safe and friend replied with her usual sorority girl/legally blonde message, complete with xoxo mwahugs and what have you. We really wonder how she is in the courtroom. 

At the end of that message, she relayed, "Mama says ang-ganda ganda mo raw ngayon (yes friends, Tita thinks I'm pogi, the kind of guy you bring home to mom; but at the same time she has the sense to recognize that that mom's got a son and not a daughter)... and she's sad na mag-isa ka lang raw sa buhay."

I guess Tita really wants to see me coupled, with someone who'll take care of me and make me happy.  The message all the more felt from one mistress to another.

Notes on a Break-up Part 1

Sometimes I think that more than I, it's my friends who can't seem to move on. I mean, they ask me how I am, I say I'm ok, and then they raise up doubts with a quip of: "Really?" Well, I appreciate them checking on me but I'm not exactly untruthful. Post-break up, I was candid enough to acknowledge when I was sad and when I wasn't feeling ok. So I guess I thought it would follow that when I "declared" that I was getting better and that I was ok, they'd readily believe me. Guess again! Haha

Anyway, I've re-affirmed that nothing in this world really lasts. But the more pivotal realization is that, I'm ok with it. I've since learned to just let things be; stop making them happen, and just allow whatever comes my way to do just that: come my way.

So how am I right now?

Hmmm, I'm ok. Quite happy with where I am although of course there are moments when you remember. Memories are tricky, for sure you know that. There are times when I spend a whole day in a place where memories were made and remember that those memories existed only when I'm about to leave them. That's good right? You remember but your memories don't haunt you.

I'm excited with what else - or for that matter, who else - will drop by my life. It is in the rebuilding that you get to reinvent yourself but more than that, it is in the rebuilding that you get to re-affirm what makes you you. They say that money or a stressful situation don't really change a person's character, they merely amplify what's already there. And for me, what's there is a nice person. Yes friends, I may be a bore but I am nice. Lol.

... and that's why I'm veering away from having fubus and all that jazz (and this is a different post altogether); they end up falling in love with me. Haha. Hay Darc, the confidence... the nerd! Haha

;)

Backpacking

Blind

Our return trip was from the province's main port, about 30 minutes from the beach: was dropped off by our awesome driver, went inside, confirmed tickets, paid the terminal fee, and headed toward the boarding area. Cinematic -and maybe this is just me romanticizing - at the very instance I stepped onto the boarding area, three gents started strumming their guitars. I quickly recognized the familiar tune but had to wait for them to start singing just to confirm. I mean, really, this song, to see me away from this trip?!

A couple of bars and then the rightmost guy started singing. And yep, I was right. They sang Who Am I and I got really teary eyed as I stood from the sides watching. I was kinda conscious. I mean a kid crying at the port's boarding area a handful of Koreans, Caucasians, and what have you packed together with the locals... I didn't really mind the fours lesbians I took this trip with. At worst they'd find it mildly cute; after all, all four of them took me as their own kid early on the weekend by virtue of our age difference.

After that Casting Crowns song, they then took on Hillsong and did One Way Jesus. It was a fun song so I initially thought that I've saved myself from fighting back my tears. But when they sang that line with so much gusto and fervor, I decided that the lack of sleep was a convenient excuse for my eyes welling up.

"We live by faith and not by sight...."

Three blind men, singing that. Striking. The song was at its most literal yet still it was metaphorical. And that something which I cannot put a finger on had a guttural tug in me.

They were already singing pop tunes - they even sang You Don't Know You're Beautiful by 1D! - when we passed by them as we moved toward the gate. I quickly crumpled a hundred peso bill and dropped it in their donation box before sinking slowly into a nearby chair. Thinking about it now, that hundred peso bill is nothing compared to the inspiration they bring.

So do me favor friends, if and when you pass by Tagbilaran City's port, please drop a couple of hundred more for these three fine men. I'd be more than happy to reimburse! They see more than most people - at least more than I - and they're more than gracious to share this gift of sight. The tears in my eyes simply echo the warm cheering of my heart.

Cheated

Grabe po ang lungkot at pagkadismaya na nadama ko sa ginawa ni Senador Sotto. Parang buong pagkatao ko ang nainsulto, ang trabaho at ang dignidad na ikinakabit ko sa aking trabaho.

Para sa mga kaibigang nakakaalam ng trabaho ko, sana maunawaan niyo kung gaano nakakasuka na may isang mambabatas at mga manunulat nito na magnanakaw ng ideya ng ibang tao at walang habas na sasabihing ayos lang iyan. Wala na ngang mga utak, arogante pa.

Ang pasasalamat ko na lang sa mga pangyayaring ito ay muli, ako ay naiyak. Tito Sotto, ang kawalang-hiyaan mo lang pala ang makakapagpaiyak sa akin. Salamat. At kaakibat ng pasasalamat ko ang taimtim na hiling na nawa'y kamuhian ka, sampu ng mga manunulat at mananaliksik mo, ng sambayanang maulit na ninyong kinutsa at minaliit ang talino.

Mga hambog. Mamatay na kayo!

Christmas U

It's Christmas! I love!

I remember the calm come November 'til February. How the fire trees shed their leaves and carpet the pavement across FC to the Engineering Building. Or how white lanterns glow up as people rush out of St. Raymond's by 6:30. Or how I sat at the outskirts of the football field with this blogger kid while we ogled at the football and track varsity teams.

Good times.

I can't wait for this year's!