If God Exists...

i cannot really say why, but it must be something to do with how memory could sometimes play with us, popping like surprises, some the kind we enjoy, some, well, we don't.

but in this case i have to confess that i am neutral, if there is really such a state of mind. i don't hate this surprise, nor do i like it. perhaps i am still trying to figure out the patterns that led me to this surprise.

and the surprise is?! well, as the title goes...

..i once wrote these lines some time ago.

if god exists
then god must be
in your soul
in your eyes

ok, its a part of a poetry work i did before. i think those were the last lines. i wrote this for a girl who is now a woman, of this i am very sure. funny thing is, i cannot really say who she is...Honest! hmmm...is my memory beginning to fail me?!

uh oh...

i know i am not making any sense of this, which is actually the reason why i am writing this down, who knows, i might figure some things i did not realize before. but one thing for sure, i am trying to remember which notebook holds the original piece of these lines.

perhaps to read it and ,as they say, take a stroll down on memory lane.

but my memory lane is not a walk in the park. No No!

now what am i going to do....

My New Lucky Charm?!

i found this little kid with parts disassembled.

actually all parts taken off: torso, head, legs and arms.

i did wonder who was the owner who abandoned it in such a manner, as well as for the reason for doing so...

...was it because one part was accidentally taken off and found it too difficult to piece it back???

...or was it a gift from a bf who turned out to be a jackal, thus the dismemberment? uugghhh!

whatever the reason, it does not really matter.

I name you StarBear. I know, its not that imaginative, but it fits. My new lucky charm. =)

Memoirs of an Akyat-Bahay

This night will be the night.

It has been raining the past few days and nights, especially at nights. Which is the sign I am looking for. Everybody sleeps peacefully on nights when it rains, including the dogs.

Only one person wide awake. I wonder what the girl is doing on the pc, chatting perhaps. Go on little girl, finish it up so I can start things up. Things are going down just right. No one is watching cable tv unlike the past night.

Rain is picking up. Good, good.

Hmmm, someone else woke up, but from the looks of it, he is still sleepy. It’s good he is not wearing a shirt, the cold would make him want to go back to sleep, seeking warmth.

… … … .. .

What the 8%#@! Another one woke up! What he is gonna do?! Canton! Pancit Canton!?? Ahhhh. But I am patient. My mom used to tell me that patience is a virtue. True, very true.

The Pancit canton looks delicious, ad its warm. I could use a cup of coffee. Patience. Patience.

Leche! Turn that tv off! Turn that tv off! Turn that tv off!

… … … .. . . .

Thank you! Tv is finally turned off! That’s it, lie down, meme na…pleasant dreams!

Now what is that guy doing on the pc?! Damn, he must feel invulnerable, wearing no shirt in this cold early morning! He must be watching porno. If this continues, I might have to abort this time, again.

… .. .

That’s it, turn the pc down. Very good boy! Shhhh…shhhh…tulog na…meme na…What?! A book?! Didn’t his parents warned him that reading while lying down is not good for the eyes. Ha! I listened well to my mom, that is why I got great eyes, great eyes for a night like this one that seems to be going bad.

Patience... patience… … … .. .. .. . . .

Finally, that shirtless bastard is fast asleep. But I’m gonna make sure he pays for making me wait this long. He ha always made me wait and wait and wait all these past few nights. Patience is indeed virtue, thank you mama for the lesson. Thank you Lord for the rain.

It’s time.

…

And so I woke up, without my shirt but with the book on my chest.

My cellphone was missing, and two others as well.

The twenty peso bill I left lying with some coins together with my wallet is still there.

But no wallet. And no cellphone.

PM me your numbers so I can rebuild my contacts, please. But first I have to get a new handset.

Now how am I going t contact all of my financial patrons to secure their pledges for the printing of my book?!

Aaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh!!!!!

But I must confess, he was a good thief. A very good thief.

8 for Infinity... (it's never too early...)

I have always believed, at least, in the duality of things in this world, of mirrors casting reflections, shapes with their shadows, in the eternal dance of darkness and light.

In the rivalry and friendship between joy and sadness.

You have to know that this is who and what I am, that as much as I try to be the embodiment of smiles and laughter, I cannot deny the frowns, the sobs and tears that perhaps in years to come will prove to contain trace evidence of my name, of my shame.

But everybody knows this, or at least those who care enough to know and carry the burden of knowing and living with it. Someday, you can ask my young brothers and sisters, my kindred beyond blood. But this is not about who I am. Not really.

More like where I am, where I have been for the last 8 years.

And to discover that the duality of things can exist in perfect unison. I should have expected this. I have. I should have known this. I have. But I guess I tried to put it off. Knowing and acceptance are two very different thing. It is one thing to know, but it is another to accept. And you can only accept something if its there, as they say, right on your lap.

Or in my case, somewhere deep beyond mere bone and flesh.

And that you would be the avatar of my sadness and my despair, of my happiness and my hope.

One of my sisters, Lala, commented a few days ago that I looked, I forgot the exact word, but something in the realm of being in bloom, as if I was a flower, fresh, alive. And it hit me, have I become that good in wearing my favorite mask, a mask that I have to admit with some pride that is real enough to dissuade even those who remain that love me from unmasking the truth?

For far beneath the mask and shell of flesh I wear as my form who have to endure the dance of night and day, inside of me there is no night and day. Well, not the night and day that we know of who chase each other on and on. Inside of me is half night and half day. At the same time. A perfect circle in half.

Because of you I smile my true smile, only for you. My former lovers would envy you.

Because of you I discover that even without sound, I could cry in a way that even angels would cease the movements of their wings, and be still, because even angels could do nothing for me. A cry that my former lovers, or even those who remain who love me, including my kindred beyond blood would not hate you nor be angry at you, but who would instead, love you even more for it.

I have to confess, in the years that have passed and of who you have become for me, I feel that with every passing moment I am losing you in ways that tells me I can never have you again. As if I ever had you in the first place.

But it would be beautiful if some wish could be granted:

I wish I could be someone like your brother.

Or perhaps someone like your friend, like your best friend.

Even just being your friend would be enough, while there is still time to do the things friends do, sharing lives instead of this loneliness where I now reside.

Being your friend would be beautiful beyond words.

Because I don’t see myself ever being your father.

Happy 8th Birthday, my son.

May you be as your name, my Jian.

I remain, your absent, silent and unknown father,

Jason

In the darkness of my soul I shall find the light for your solace. and mine.

Repost -- Unsent Mails : "Turning Seven..." (because it's that time again...)

Turning Seven

20 February 2000

Early morning…

I woke up to the ringing of the cellphone I always kept by my side. I was informed that you were on your way, half a world away, and they would be going on their way to meet and welcome you.

I stayed home all day. For a very good reason, I could not go out of the house, not knowing when and how you would be arriving. I knew that your journey was one that was filled with some danger, and I was worried and afraid about your journey, as well as also worried about the one person who was with you.

Even now, I could not remember a day when time seemed to be so slow, stretched out by my waiting. I knew then that all that I could have done was to wait, and yet while I was doing that, I must confess I was eager for a call, for that warm voice to tell me that you had arrived.

I did not feel hungry that day, and that must be the reason why I skipped my lunch. But beside me was a fresh pack of cigarette, reds, alongside a crumpled one and an ashtray filled with butts, ashes overflowing.

The day stretched out, the sun that was rising was now on its way down, falling, slowly.

I received news that you had already arrived about 6 hours after you did. It was then that I found myself smiling. The dangerous journey that you undertook was over, and the one who was with you was also doing fine. Mixed with emotions, I then sent out messages to friends who were also waiting for your arrival.

We waited for you for nearly 9 months seven years ago.

Today is seven years after that day. A lot of things have happened, tragedies and mysteries unveiled.

Seven years ago today, and still we are both half a world away.

I honestly don’t know if you are going to make another journey where your feet would lead you half a world away to where I am. And even if you did, I honestly don’t know if I would still be there, to welcome you as I should have, seven years ago. But then, that would still be seven years from now, or two seven years from now. At least, we have today, seven years since that day.

Happy Birthday Jian, my son.

Thank you for the gift of making my dreams and ideals come true with your every breath.

Who you would be, what you would do, where you would go, everything about you I know and do not know is enough for me to smile everyday…

…even if I am never ever going to see you.

There Must be a Reason…

Checking on my pages, something bothered me, and this led me to give a good look at the last two videos I upped…

…Breaking Benjamin’s The Diary of Jane & Breathe, two songs that I haven’t listened to in a long time, more like a year has passed since the last time…

...there must be a reason why I chose these songs.

Though they are by the same band, they belong on opposite poles.

Then it hit me.

Must be something about the biggest celebration of this month, a celebration that I have never shared with this world. Ever.

And something tells me I will never.

All those wilted flowers, all those trees wasted for paper printed with empty words, all those business bargain deals and offers, all those hotel and motel rooms reservations…

..all those love, going, going, going away. I have always been an advocate that love needed no one special day: it supposed to be every day, every waking moment before all those chances are gone.

Funny that it makes me realize that if love should be everyday, then I should have no qualms about the same for its absence.

For some reason, I could join the world, yet I guess I am sane enough not to do so.

This must have been the reason.

Just Thinking (99% Rare Entry)

Ewan ko ba, dahil kay “di nya ako type =(” napaisip-isip tuloy ako.

Paano kasi, iniisip –isip ko kasi sya. lintek nga eh.

ANG NAPAISIP-ISIP KO

May mga litrato pa ako nung ako ay bata pa. maitim pa ako noon, payat. At mas importante, may isa akong alam sa sarili ko:

HINDI AKO GWAPO.

Ito siguro yung dahilan kung bakit tama lang na tawagan akong “busted boy.”

Busted ako nung elementary days. Ang landi ko kasi, grade one pa lang may crush na agad. Noralyn yung pangalan nya, seatmate ko, anak ng isang teacher sa eskwela. Kahit ngayon, sha pa rin yung babae na may pinakamagandang penmanship na nakita ko. Ang dahilan siguro kung bakit napakaganda ng penmanship nya ay dahil sa napaka soft and smooth and supple ng kamay niya, na minsan ko na ring nahawakan. Di ko nga lang tlaga masabi if dahil sa aksidente or dahil nag-chancing ako. As I said, bata pa lang lang malandi na ako.

Dahil din kay Noralyn nanakit ako ng tao. May berkz kasi ako that time, si Valentino. Isang araw, pinaabot ni Noralyn yung papel nya sa akin, ako na lang daw mag pass kay ma’am. Di ko alam ano ang dahilan kung bakit kinuha ito ng berkz ko at sa kasamaang palad ito ay nabasa. Ayun tuloy, nagmukhang mumu ang magandang penmanship ni Noralyn.

Sinapak ko si Valentino dahil dun. Nagtatakang nagtatanong ang best berkz ko na akala daw nya berkz kami tapos sinapak ko sha.

Madami pa rin akong naging crush noong elementary pa lang ako, pero si Noralyn yung unang karanasan ko na maging busted. Busted din ako sa mga iba.

High School Days…

…tuloy pa din ang busted record ko. Though sa kabutihang palad dito din nagsimula na maging malapit ako sa mga babae kong classmate, di naman sa nagyayabang pero dito yung mga unang signs na may malaking puso at pagmamalasakit pala ako para sa kababaihan. Ang ibang dahilan dito ay hindi kasi ako madamot magpakopya ng answer tuwing may test kami, di tulad nung elementary na tinutukan ko ng pencil ang classmate ko na gusting kumopya. Kahit busted man, di naman ganon ka frustrating ang high school, kasi yun nga, close ako sa mga babae, though medyo malapit din itong masira nung nahuli nila akong sa aktong nakikipag-swap ng vhs tape sa isang schoolmate na taga ibang section.

“Akala naming bata ka pa Jason” sabi sa akin ng 2 kong babaeng classmate “pero yun pala, marunong ka na gumawa ng bata.” Ex-rated tape kasi yung hawak ko nung nahuli nila ako eh.

Hihihihihihi, di lang pala ako malandi at medyo may pagka-viloent, may pagka anyak din pala.

College Life

Hay salamat, may Diyos pala na nadinig mga prayers ko.

Hindi na ako busted. Hindi din akong nahirapan na mapaakit ang isang dalaga. Napaisip nga ako that time na since may pumatol na sa akin nung college ako, it figures na tanga yung mga babae sa high school na di tlaga ako pinansin. leche sila!

Ang gaganda ng mga babae sa Ateneo. I swear! And dahil nagsimula na ang pagbabago sa buhay ko, I was on a roll. Yeah babeh!

Hindi naman sa pagyayabang, ehem ehem, pero iba tlaga buhay college pagdating sa babae. Madami akong pwedeng pagpilian. Madaming willing. Meron nga sa kanila, kahit pa alam nila na may gf na ako that time, ako pa ang nilalandian. Yung iba, nagbilin pa na paki inform lang daw sa kanila if break na kame ng gf ko para sila na daw ang papalit. Walang kasinungalingan ito, peksman, cross my heart pa! Hindi ko nga ma explain bakit nagkaganon eh.

Hindi naman ako gwapo, wala akong sikot, wala akong pang-date.

Though kahit corny, magaling magsulat ng poems.

But, aaminin ko, nagloko din ako.

Kaya nga pwede kong sabihin na asal aso ang mga lalaki eh, hindi dahil santo ako pero dahil demonyo ako tulad ng karamihan ng lalake, bukas ngayon at magpakailanman.

Hey, what can I say, we men are such bastards! At least honest bastard ako.

Nagloko ako. Nagpaiyak ako. I took advantage. I played women, or as one gurl told me, nangongolekta daw ako ng babae parang bang perlas sila, para kompletuhin daw para gawing necklace.

In short, nagwaldas ako sa pagmamahal ng mga babae a akin….

…which now brings me to the point of the matter of this blog entry:

Ito ba yung parusa ko, na ganito na lang mapapala ko, paisip-isip na lang sa isang babae na di naman ako type.

Siguro nga, if naging mas mabait ako, siguro maging type pa nya ako.

Malay, baka mahalin pa nya ako.

And siguro, di ako iiwanan.

p.s. lecheng paisip-isip pati tuloy oras nyo nawaldas ko.

Rare Entry

may na meet akong gurl.

picture pa lang nya, lapit na mahulog mata ko. malapit pa lang naman.

tapos i felt na there was more to her than just looks. Kaya yun, curious tuloy ako, gusto ko siya makilala ng lubusan.

Kaso lang, di nya ako type. =( i'm not saying na type ko siya, though its a possibility. Pero yun nga, di nya ako type eh.

Yun lang.

p.s. ang engot ko noh?

Balance

its not getting any easier.

i know i should at least be happy: i finished the book, just a few edits and then collecting all the pledges from my patrons who believe in my madness, who believe in my art.

Long, long ago, i had an idea that this life of art that i decided upon would not be easy. First of all, i am crazy, and i thought that was gonna make things easier.

been on the binge again. the bad kind. reminds me of T. Reznor's "Downward Spiral".

and afterwards, i go on, escaping everything. As it is dark down down there where the ghosts of my shame and pain dwell, i go there, out there...attempting to be an escape artist..out there where the light always shine, where everything seems fine...

Dark. Light. Wish i could find that little space between those words.

Balance. Thats what i need. The halfway shelter between my heaven and my hell...perhaps if i could find it, i could make sense of all that has been happening and give my fledging powers to the art demanded from me...

...but honestly, i used to have that balance, that sense of peace..of belonging..in her arms...

...but the ghost of those whom i-love-who-have-abandoned-me are still there....

and i vowed that as i love women, i would not add one more name to the list...one more name might just kill me...

there is a god, and if only i believed that he would do something if i bribed him with enough prayers...well...

but as one friend told me "we worship a mad god who drives us crazy before destroying us"...

hmmm...my kind of god.

amen.

fuck.