Hypocrisy

how could you possibly say that you still love me
after hurting me over and over again
how could i possibly love you back
if my heart no longer whisper your name

let time heal the wounds, let it tell when
the right time will come to say what is true
that you just miss me because you need
me and nothing like because you really love me

you left me hanging, suspended in thin air
a fraction of my sanity is what was left
respect and dignity for myself you took with you
how dare you get back and say you still care

don't you ever get near me as i may cry
cry my hearts longingness for you
but that was before, now i dont know
hypocrisy is the word, hypocrisy.

Tanduay

My relationship with my father is like the distance of manila to Bicol. we we're never close, never had a chance to drink together, go out or do things a father and son could’ve done. Now he's gone, and as they say, it's too late.

The last time i saw him was the first week of September, he stared at me and begged for me to talk to my family and let him go. The illness he had is taking its toll and the pain just by breathing is getting intolerable each day. His teary eyes began to talk as droplets of water flowed down. "I'm tired, let me go, take care of your siblings and your mom." I was so angered hearing those words from him, hearing the words of his surrender. For almost five years, he underwent dialysis treatment for his deteriorating renal system, and I haven't seen him surrender just like that. He wanted to live, he wanted to fight the illness, but at that time, he wanted all of us to move on.

I controlled the emotions waiting to flare out of me, from anger, from sadness, from the thought of letting go. I said calmly let's just sleep Pa and everything will be alright. For about 3 months, sleeping for him is luxury, we already tried several medications for him to get some decent sleep but it wouldn't work. Till the very end he and his beloved Tanduay was there to calm him down. The only working medication he always wanted. He asked me that night to go buy some beer or any liquor and drink with him, I humbly declined saying i was too tired. Was it the passing of the torch i missed? I don't know, that night I was just so afraid that drinking with him for the first time mano-a-mano. I'm so afraid that by just looking at him while drinking my beer would just let me see myself eventually transform as him. Honestly, i don't want to be him, i don't want to die like that, i dont want to suffer. It's like meeting Death face to face, saying this is your future, and you're doomed.

I was in Manila when my aunt relayed the news of my father's demise. I packed my things right away and went to Cavite to tell my little sister of what happened. On our way, I don't know exactly how i'll tell her that sad news, I just let my aunt do the thing, i went up to her room after a while to see her crying. She's my Father's little baby. We packed her things and prepared to go to Bicol, that was the longest trip ever in my life. For the first time, I will not be there to celebrate any anniversary nor birthday, but be with my family as we bid goodbye to my father.

He died peacefully, that's what my mom told us and just be thankful for that. No more tubes to be inserted no more medicines to take, no more gasping for air. Dying in his sleep with that Tanduay Rhum. I miss him terribly.

Dead at 25

We will have our company's annual physical exam, and yes, i am a bit nervous. Not because of the needles nor the dentist but because I know that I am sick. Sick and tired of my life that i continue to live without a definite path to take.

A functioning alcoholic and a chain smoker, I can feel my lungs and liver getting smaller each day. In addition to lower back pains, probably a symptom of a kidney disease. Well who cares, really who?

Since I was sixteen or probably younger, I already have this feeling that i'd be dead by 25. This year's my 25th year and that if I reach 26, i don't care how much it would cost but there will be celebration, the grandest ever to celebrate my reincarnation.

Mother’s knows best

How many in our demise say the words ‘if only I followed Mom’s advise’ is enjoying life? Is it really true that while our fathers consider our moms nothing but just a necessary evil to cook dinner and do the laundry, everyone who’s fortunate enough to have someone who’ll nag at you at 5:30am in the morning not to be late to school can say that one of God’s marvelous creatures is this homo sapien we now call Mom.


How many marvelous moms have I encountered so far? Countless. While I’m into this self-pity stage, I just got a text message from my Mom asking me to come home and forget everything and start a new life in our hometown. I’m clueless as to how my Mom got the news of me in a self-deteriorating stage as she barely knows how to check her own email. It’s just later in the morning that my elder siblings and I engaged in this never-ending argument suggesting that I give in to my mom’s request and come home. Sadly, I turned them all down. The promises of them to finance my studies in pursuing law maybe quite an offer to turn down, but the what ifs still haunts me. Going home is a dream I long been wanting to fulfill, not just for them, but for my kid. But what if I suddenly give up everything then my estranged wife get my kid and settle in Manila, worst some place I don’t know? I continue to struggle with the thought of getting her one day. While our state’s justice system is geared towards the protection of women’s rights, I’m keeping my hopes alive of winning my case and finally get my kid and be vindicated.


My ex-wife is my kid’s mom, surely she knows what is best for the kid. What her perception of best may sound absurd, that is her idea of it and probably what her mom says too. Being the best mom is not a contest as reward may come as an insult sometimes a trip to the United States, sometimes a perennial headache. Let society judge them based on how well their kids are. Just join me in prayer as my kid grows better than her parents are right now as she’s into the stage of not having a choice but just follow as to what her mom’s perception of best is.

Comfort Zones

Till now, i can't get out of my shell, im used to see things as they are and i expect them to last. i hate letting go, if i can freeze time just to let things stay that way i would. but i can't. deep inside i weep with those little changes everywhere, damn, i even wept when gabby and sharon divorced. i just want everybody to be it, in a status quo.


I want to be a kid again, no worries of society's rotting state. the only pain you might suffer is tootache. While every kid wants to grow up, i'm going the other way. Adulthood s*cks. But as they say, that's the beauty of life, without pain is like Joey de Leon without Rene Requiestas.


I wanted to break away from life but im too afraid to even try it, I'm like Nicholas Cage in "the weatherman" thinking about killing himself but is afraid to try it as he's thinking as to who will clean the rug of his splattered brain. I'm not into being suicidal, i just want something new to happen but i can't let go. I want to transfer to a new house, but im afraid to as it might be far from my work. I want another kid, but i don't have a wife. I've been wanting to get another one, but i might end up in prison. what in the world would i do?


Status quo - just stay alive might be my only purpose. For my kid to at least have a 'father' to bring her to the altar once she decides to marry? To be a grandfather to her lovely kids? Are these the answers to my questions? Is this what im really comfortable with? Will i die a fulfilled man with it?


Patience...

To love again?

Have you ever asked your self this? Would you like to try again after being hurt so many times? Would you dare love again, if every time you try, your heart echoes the love that was lost in time?

I've been living virtually alone for the past seven months, and still it hurts like yesterday. Everyday you see ladies pass by and all I can do is sigh, smack my head a little to get back to reality. What can I offer those young lovely ladies if I'm starting lose love of myself? I've been wanting to say I love them, but I can't. All I know is I need one to be mine again, to be whole again, to fill the emptiness. To love is to be hurt I know, but to be hurt and be fooled over and over again, that's stupidity. That's what I was, never again.

Some say I have to content myself of being alone and devote all my energy to work. Question? Why am I working? For whom? For a non-existent family? For a child I barely see? For my future so blurry? Why? For what? Argh!

Will anyone dare to love me? Uhmmm, what if i post an ad in Jobstreet? Lolz

In her eyes

Did you ever wonder how a 3 year old kid explain things happening around her? When my kid showed me what she just drew, I was actually shocked, not because she knows how to, but what she drew. A family portrait, saying "Daddy, this is you, Kyona and Mommy!" I held my breath deep as my eyes slowly filled with tears are getting ready to fall.

For 7 months now, my dearest Kyona is without a family of her own, she's staying with my in-law, while my wife and I pick up the pieces of our shattered lives. Will we be together? Will Kyona get her birthday wish? Noone knows. What I know is like the picture, we are holding on, living alone but still holding on.

The paranoia of being alone kills me everyday, but the hope of being with my kid is what keeping me alive. But how can I explain the things to her when questions like "why are you leaving again?" and "when will you be coming back?" veers my sanity to outerspace?


A co-worker just asked me a question as I'm writing this, "Masarap ba magkaroon ng anak?" Another question that I'm beginning to hate. How will I know? I can't even walk her to school, can't even tuck her in to sleep, read books to her, feed her. Things that a father should be doing, i cannot do, so how will I know? I don't even want myself to be called a father, not even a provider, a little maybe but not a good one. Every peso I give to her will never be enough of the times lost being with a family. Is it my fault? Yes. It was unfolding before my eyes and I never did anything to keep it all together. I don't know how this will end for all of us, but what I just found out is that my my daughter's drawing is way better than my writing.

Love Moves...Move On!!!

Ask me anything my dear
Just not that of what I fear
For I know you know what
And that’s loosing you just like that

Move on my dear
That’s what I always hear
Forgetting is easy
If forgiving isn’t necessary

Be gone now my dear
Memories will not disappear
Just be careful with my kid
Kiss her for me, as goodbye I bid

Fool or Pull?

I can’t remember the last time I was fooled as it seems everyday. I wake up each day just to be fooled again and again. In Philosophy 101 I was taught not to trust my senses, maybe I should stick with it.

I live now all because of hope, hope that one day my family would be together again. That one day, I can hear my kid say “wakey wakey Daddy” each time she tries to wake me up. Each day I come home shouting “Hunny I’m home” only to hear echoes of myself shouting back at me as if saying “Hey moron, you’re all alone!” Each day I go out expecting to meet friends, but all there is, is nothing but crowd.
Every single day I’m being met by lies after lies. But I still cling to all the hope I could possibly offer myself with. It’s the only thing now that keeps me from shutting the doors to the reality of the world.
Sometimes it’s better to believe in movies than what is happening all around you. At least we know before paying for the ticket or inserting that cheap pirated DVD that what you will be shown is nothing but a glimpse of what men perceive of his world or what the world should be or ought to be. In the world of movies, I picture myself as Neo of the Matrix Trilogy, convincing myself that this is not me but only a representation of me, and the real me is somewhere out there playing with his joystick controlling my every move. Sometimes I’m V from the movie V for Vendetta, saying “You cannot kill an idea!” after being shot by bullets after bullets of lies. Sometimes, I feel like Forrest Gump, eating all the chocolates of life’s pandora’s box. The definition of myself is nowhere to be found.

Why am I still here? What’s my purpose? Very well, “Life” must go on and let the petals of my life slowly fall and wither away as it seems no one really can answer these questions but me and thy Creator. For now, I must be ready to be fooled again and pull myself together keeping it from going the other way.

Cool South Concepts

I' ve been staying in LasPiñas every weekend with my cousins, and I can't help being envy how these "guys from the south" came up with concepts like this one out of pure wit and experience.

Dumet -"made somewhere in the Philippines," was recently launched just as the whole Philippine archipelago was commemorating the Edsa 1 Revolution. This is not a coincidence, but also a marketing strategy of the group with their designs like "Nasaan ka ng '86" and "Bayani". And as predicted, it was an immediate hit. With prices that range between 300php-350php, these cool shirts designed by adRepublika could be yours.

If you happen to be somewhere in the south, you may also want to check Placid's gig schedule. Another promising band from the South. Nope, the band is not new as they've been playing for about 5 years now. In fact they even made it in the final round of MotoRock sponsored by Motorola last year.

With their version of Carpenter's "Top of the World" spiced with some bongo's and reggae beat of the base guitar and drums, I can say that they did gave justice to the song with their revival.

Natalie, a Filipina with Irish decent, as their vocalist, this reggae cum pop rock band may soon hit it big so check them out now.

It's should not be always perfect.

Perfect is a state of mind achieved with the feeling of ecstasy. A time when our body secretes those happy cells fooling our brains to fulfillment. Bliss is how writers or those gifted with thesaurus like vocabulary would call it. In order for men to speak, they give names to what they see, feel, taste, smell or hear. But little they know what name they call it when you experienced something extraordinary, something that can't be explained, now that's what we call perfect. However, what do we call its opposite? Hell?

Perfection for some is like getting to Heaven, attaining Nirvana, the good Karma. Some follows their belief, traditions or cultures. Others would just say, it happens. For women, it's like meeting your Prince Charming. Communism too aims to be in that same stage, where everyone is equal, a state where you get is what is equal to the amount of work you give to your state and according to your necessity. Everything in excess should be returned to the state. Question is, how to get into that point without blood spill? Would the bourgeois allow such a radical change and surrender everything they own? Not in this world, but maybe in the afterlife.

Life is consequential. As science explains, in every motion, there is always an equal but opposite reaction. Now ask yourself, that in attaining perfection, do we not hurt others? Do we not discriminate others? As the old law saying goes "the right to exercise your right stops when someone else's right is infringed. In our search for perfection, do we consider other's life too? Men are social animals, insatiable. The more things we know, the more our thirst for more comes. It will never be enough, it's because since we are young, we we're never told to settle for what we have. They teach us to dream, to be better individuals; it’ just up to us though to go to the road less traveled or the other way around, just think that life should not be always be perfect.

The Next Hugh Hefner

There's been a lot of buzz lately that one can earn just by blogging, and as the prices of commodity goes skyrocketing and with an impending EDSA 3, let's all go blogging then. Hell yeah, this is better than selling tocino or longganisa, which I was actually planning to do when my then girlfriend now my ex-wife told me that she's pregnant.

I created this blog quite a way back, just to feel the hang of it. As I said, it would only be my canvass to paint my life into. I am or should I say was a writer, but what I did was purely fiction, and sitcoms now it's like a "I want to be a celebrity, bring me in front of the camera thing". I'm now letting the whole world know what's going on with my life.

Now I can't sleep at night as I want to push things to the limit and explore the possibility of putting up my own website not just a blog. Whoah! As they say, think big and it will be done. I hope. This is no easy task though. What can a concept do without learning "the code" - HTML.

I know I should be seeking professional help with this one, but I'm too privy with my work that I don't want someone breaking in this well thought of concept which may cost a million from today. So I decided to torture myself more in decoding these computer languages better than English or Filipino just to make my dream of becoming the next Hugh Hefner come true. How about that for a motivation?

The Resurrection of a Roller Coaster Rider

Gandhi once said, when I go to sleep at night I die, and when the morning comes I'm reborn. Or something to that effect. Well, here I am, alive and kicking!

Life is indeed one hell of a roller coaster ride, but my ride is no easy, and I don't intend to go that way again. At 24, it seems that, that coaster I've been on was travelling 250mph. I was employed at 19, got married at 20, became a father at 21, now three years later, I'm back from being single. Now that's what I call a true roller coaster ride. Lolz.

It's not that I'm happy about it, but it's really funny how life can make a you go loose your screws sometimes. It's just upto you if you want to tighten those screws a bit, or lose your grip of reality. A clear choice between two lesser evils.

It's upto you though to guess which evil side I am right now.