Hi, Sam. Tanda mo ang ilang Pasko at Bagong Taon na pare-parehas tayong ulila sa Katipunan? Mga panahong idolo kita dahil parang alam na alam mo na ang life project mo. Ang husay mo, yung tipong lowkey pero kapag nagkwentuhan na, pucha mapa-Hogwarts man yan or Economics eh napapanganga ako. Sagrado man o karnal, malaliman o mababaw na usapan, kaibig-ibig ka lagi pakinggan. At marunong ka rin makinig gamit ang puso mo.

Sa lipunang maari kang maging kahit sino, pinili mo ang maging guro. Kasi sabi mo, sino ang hahamon sa mga susunod na henerasyon na magmahal at magsuri? Kaya nagturo ka sa Pisay.

Pagpasok ko ng seminaryo, isa lang ang bilin mo: Pangatawanan mo yang hayop ka.; maging mabuti kang Father Elias. Naging mas madalang ang usap natin, nung birthday ko, ikaw ang humingi ng pabor - panalangin. Ambilis, dati covid covid lang usapan natin ngayon, Stage 3 agad. Napakadaya, ang tapang mo.

Umiinom ng gawa mong lemonda, sa pagitan ng mga upos ng sigarilyo, habang matingkad ang kulay ng langit sa balkonahe mo. "Elias, paano ba mag-start ng devotion?" Dun ko naramdaman na dinadala ka ng tapang mo palapit sa Diyos. Sa totoo naman, hindi ka lumayo kahit kaylanman. Minsan, walang pangalan ang Diyos sayo. Madalas, sigurado kang sya ang tumawag at umiibig sayo.

Kaya pala nitong mga nakaraang mga araw, bukambibig ko ang kantang "Stay With Me, Lord" eh hindi naman ako deboto ni Padre Pio. With matching teary eyes pa minsan kapag kinakanta ko habang naka-upo sa inodoro. Paulit-ulit, ilang araw na ganun. Sabi ng kanta:

Stay with me Lord, that I may never forget you.

Stay with me Lord, because I'm weak.

Yun pala ang mga araw na hinang-hina ka na. Hindi ko man lingid noon, naiintindihan ko ngayon na hinehele ka ng mga panalangin ko kasi hindi biro ang kirot ng sanlibong karayom. Bisperas ng pista ni Padre Pio, sinundo ka nya pabalik sa Bathala ng mga bahaghari, ng mga bituin, ng mga kalupaan, ang ng lahat ng mga nasa pagitan. Salamat naman, tapos na ang mga pasakit.

Pahapon na ngayon, katulad noong huli nating pagkikita. Salamat sa kakaibang pagkakaibigang nabuo sa Katipunan. Hindi mo man akalain, kasama ka sa mga humubog sa akin. Natuto akong umibig nang lubos at maglaan ng buhay sa makabuluhang bokasyon.

Samahan ka nawa ng mga pusa sa langit. Isang mataas na pagpupugay sa'yo.

Dear my most unfortunate beloved,

I met you online in the most decent dating app a little short of a year ago. When I met you, I was in the middle of calming raging storms inside my heart. I broke up with my partner, I was sort of going out with a wonderful person who I unwittingly has been in love with for more than a decade, and I was discerning for religious life, a call I have been delaying responding to for God knows how long. I was torn with all the life options that I was presented with. I think the right term was dread. In the face of freedom, one cannot help but feel the weight of just having one life to lead.

Meeting you was never an accident. In the realm of things which we are too human to understand, we also made it happen to meet. When I met you, I felt a strange connection and a possibility. Maybe this guy is the compromise of all things I want in life? I was never sure and wasn’t ever brave to make choices. So instead, I intentionally pursued to know you much deeper.

They said you will know a person deeper when you travel with him and it is true. You are one of the most patient and the most serene person I have ever travelled with, almost textbook stoic. You let everything happen to you – beauty, terror, me. Yet despite of it all, you remained the kind person that you are. It’s never a mask unlike many of us, your kindness is your true self all the time.

I have met too many people in my life and there was never one like you in ways that I could not put words on. It is sufficient to say that with you, I felt a very strange calmness in knowing I am wanted and longed for, yet you are so restrained to allow our freedoms to operate. You have the qualities and more for an ideal person, at least to me. Let us say that in front of you, I cannot lie. In front of you, I see a possibility of a fulfilled identity. You have that strange ability to look at me and not need too many words to understand and make me liable.

The day we saw each other the last time, I was on my way back to the seminary. I kept on delaying it because I knew that things will not be the same anymore. I am preparing to dedicate my whole life to God and here I am presented the person of you who has captured my heart in many ways I could ever talk about. It is the reason why I could not be more available than wanted because I have given up some freedoms to follow this call. I thought my job was enough to suffice that desire to serve the Lord but later, I realized it wasn’t really about the great things I want to do for Him, but the truth is in the reverse, following this call is all about letting God do all the great things to me. It’s a long journey from here and I am not even sure enough if becoming a priest is for me. Add to that the fact that I have a medical condition which many people may not be able to fully understand for now, so I keep it to a few people. With all philosophizing I have learned and read about, nothing prepared me for this crossroads.

Consider the notion “accident” and all the things you can remember that ever happened in your life. Some thinkers say life is meaningless, that what we experience is just a succession of one event after another, that there is no grand design, no order, no pattern. But another half of the world also thinks that this existence we live out is ordained, willed, and determined.

And there are people like you and me, believing in the weight of both worldviews.

This is my attempt to remember everything or anything that might have been left from what I can remember.

I will write it in segments, like how it happens in my favorite television series.

I am returning not because I am happy. I am returning because I need to remember.

Tomorrow, the first part.

I am busy holding my self with tape and glue. I will be back when I am less jaded, when less drama is happening.


For now, I am taking a break. I will return when I see a detour somewhere, sometime. I will be back when I am more honest with my self again.


Continue.

Boss, malapit na yata akong sumuko bilang superhero. Text ko kanina sa teacher ko sa Economics nung high school.


'Whenever you feel weak, remember those who make you strong and whenever you start to doubt your self, remember those who believe in you.' That was your text to me when I was so down. Now I am returning the message to you.


Kapalit ng maraming panahon at taon na naitago ko ang lahat ng pighati ang araw na to. Bakit di ko magawang umiyak?




Dalawa't kalahating oras akong tulala sa Moonleaf. Parang dalawa't kalahating siglo.

Di ko na hawak ang mga oras na sumunod. Sumuko ako.

Rails screeching

I am going home.

Silence defeaning

this is home.


When I remember you
and or the absence of you,
I sometimes think

If red really means stop

or go.

Aamin ako. Bago ko pa man muling naging close si M, dumating si Wis. Sa loob ng tatlong araw na panliligaw nya (oo tita carrie at nimmy, ako ang nililigawan), nakita kong di lang libog ang nakita nya sakin kaya natuwa ako sa kanya (haha! matatapos ko kaya tong post na to?).

Ngayon ko lang napatunayan na totoo ang mga korning eksena ng love triangle sa mga soap opera. Mahal ako ni Wis, sobrang mahal na nung nanghingi ako sa kanya ng panahon na mag-isip ay di sya nagdalawang isip. Pero mahal ko si M (ang classic. pffft), sobrang mahal na handa akong maghintay sa kanya. First time kong maging mahinahon at matyaga. Di ko nararamdaman ang inip ng paghihintay sa panahong makakalimutan ni M ang mga bagay na tumatakot sa kanya. Pero Tita Charo, ano ba ang dapat piliin, yung mahal ka o ang mahal ng isda ngayon?

Alam ko ang sagot sa tanong ko kaya pinili kong di sumama sa road trip ni Wis at maghintay sa terminal na bababaan ni M. Sinumpa ako ni Wis tulad ng pagsumpa ng mga witch sa Romania sa presidente nila dahil di na sila tax-exempted. Pagbukas ko ng facebook profile ni nya, kulang na lang tusukin ako ng mga kaibigan nya ng karayom sa pagsumpa nila sa taong nagpalungkot sa kanya. Nagmuka akong bitch sa facebook thread nya, Tita Charo. 'gaguhan pala ha! :) mamalasin ka pwes! kukulamin kita! go to hell talkshit! :D' ang sabi nya. Kulang na lang, ipasara nila ang butas ng pwet ko.

Tanong uli, anong mas tama: Piliin ang ,ahal mo o mahal ang pamasahe papuntang Madrid? Alam ko ang isasagot, Lio. Natutunan ko sa tong-its na mas mahalaga ang mag-intay sa baraha para makumpleto mo ang isang combination kesa mag-ipon ng maraming king at queen at jack na di mo naman kailangan. Di ako naniniwala kay Ricky Lee, Victor. Walang quota ang pag-ibig. Kasi ang pag-ibig, sugal. Kailangang may lakas ka ng loob na dumiga.


Kane, now I too am bitch. But I don't care. I love this waiting.


(M, kung mapag-tripan mo man na basahin to, I want you to know that for once, I am ready to give in or give up everything just for you to forget the things that hurt you. Minsan man lang sa buhay ko, gumawa ako ng desisyon na hindi ko pagsisisihan.)


Bloggers, let's eat pasta (:


-----------------
PS.

Dahil bagong taon, magsisipag na ulit akong magbasa ng blog. Magiging friendly na din ako. Promise. Amen.

I was, no, still away. As far as Cubao. As far as ten horizons put together.

And even if I want to tell stories, I am forced to hear a calling far different from what I would die to hear since I was a child. Yes, this is a no. A major no.

The semester has ended, the sister has been married and a lot of family maladies in between. If not because of sanity that comes from friends, I would be dead by now.

I am away for a while. And a while is a long time. No, it's a short one.

To know which is which, ask my customer from the other line.


PS.
I miss the bloggers. The best people I thought I have. I really really do. The question is, what?

PPS.
Heroditus had it right. We are in a constant flow and movement. So I am moving out again soon.

PPPS.
I love the wind. And words. Because they never hurt me.

There are days in the life of man that he dives to an unknown void afraid, only to find out that he, in ways more than one, belongs there.

I just realized that the more a person loves fiction, the more his story becomes so near to reality.

So on the moment I write something other than the usual rant and emotional dysfunctions, you might be seeing the other side of the coin or another mask. Writers are always at the mercy of their readers.

So for now, I am enjoying the fact that I am running out of words to say.

To bloggers who wait for something to read from this bin, catch you later.