When people leave, alone we are not for long.
There are the loud people. They are the ones who, in order to cope with loss and regret, resort to ranting and remembering. They keep on reminiscing the old times, the good happy ones. They repeat the words and the scripts they have remembered by heart and succumb to the nostalgia it brings. These people move on fast because after letting go of personal hatred to public, they brave to take the next phase. It's more like when the wounded washes his wound in the sea.
And there are those who move on in silence. They resent of course but they deem it unnecessary for the world to know how broken they are. No Facebook shoutout, no bitter GMs. They just sit in the recovery room, patiently waiting for the body to heal itself. They said these people move on after so long. But I think not. These are the people who already accepted change and have made themselves ready for another phase of what ever is next.
Hearts don't break even. Some may take a short time to find love or another interest while some may take moving on to the grave. We aren't made to be same in that area I suppose, in that "moving on" thing. So whenever we lose control of things after a sudden event of letting go, one thing is for sure: Moving on is, deeply necessary.
It's the second day of the training and I do not hear any ranting in the training room or sulking in one corner anymore. Everyone participated in the charades. I guess call center agents are trained to encounter loss and transition in fast pace. I think that is one good thing I can be thankful for.
The song tells it quite perfectly: Where do broken hearts go? Can they find their way home?
-after Jeg
So quickly.
Let it cut more deep.
Let it ferment and season you
As few human
Or even divine ingredients can.
Something missing in my heart tonight
Has made my eyes so soft,
My voice
So tender,
My need of God
Absolutely
Clear.
(from an ancient Persian poet, Hafiz)
Don't run from loneliness. Don't see it as your enemy. Don't look for another person to cure your loneliness. See loneliness as a privileged avenue to depth and empathy.
-Ron Rolheiser, OMI , The Lesson Within Loneliness
nagmamadali
ang puta
sa pagtitipa ng sagot
upang ipambayad
ng matrikula,
kuryente at tubig
bago sumapit ang
alas dose.
Kinabukasan
ay sasapalaran
sa baluktot
na dila ng dayuhan
upang sa martes
at sa susunod pang
mga araw
sya ay mabuhay.
Bitbit
mga pangarap.
Move.
Tama si Paolo. Hindi kaylanman matatapos ang mga suliranin at hindi kaylanman nauubos ang mga responsibilidad. Hindi kaylanman napapatid ang kwedras ng mga pag-aalinlangan at hanggat hinahayaan natin ang panahon na tumagal, patuloy tayo sa pagbibilang ng mga tala.
Sabi ni Abraham Maslow, kaligayahan ang pangunahing pangangailangan ng tao na dapat tugunan. Mapapanatag lang daw tayo kapag ang pangangailangang ito ang nakamit. Kung ito ay ituturing na unibersal na katotohanan, nakakalungkot isipin na marami sa atin ang hindi tunay na maligaya.
Personally, marami akong kilalang ganto. High school friends na alipin ng pampamilyang responsibilidad, bloggers na hinahanap ang tamang tyempo para maintindihan ng lipunan, mga estudyanteng nag-aaral ng kursong hindi nila ibig, mga kolboys at kolgirls na nagtatawag sa telepono. Iba't-ibang dahilan. Iba't-ibang layon. May mga bagay kasi tayong isinasantabi para sa kaligayahan at pangangailangan ng mga taong nasa paligid natin.
Pero hanggang kailan tayo dapat maging payaso? Hanggat nanatili tayong ginagawa ang mga bagay na makapagpapapsaya lamang sa iba, tinatanggalan natin ng karapatan ang sarili nating maging malaya at maligaya. Mali bang lumabas sa kahong ginawa ng iba at gawin ang gusto mo? Hindi naman siguro maituturing na pagiging makasarili ang maging ikaw at tuparin ang sarili mong mga pangarap.
Si Paolo? Officemate ko. Late thirties, son of a pastor and is expected to carry on his father's works. He cannot preach in a pulpit nor hold any position in their church simply because Paolo is a discreet gay, one of the most decent and honest men I know so far. He loves the parable of the prodigal son and probably draws hope from the story that one day, his own father will recognize that he is ever wanting to come home, to be accepted. Sa parehas na prinsipyo, may mga taong isinasantabi ang bigtime nilang pangarap para sa pamilya. Nakakalungkot pero yun ang katotohanan.
Masama bang sundan ang kaligayahan mo maski kalakip nito ang pag-iwan mo ng ilang mahahalagang bagay?
' Kung alam mo lang, I'm dying to return there. Haha. If He really really wants me to serve the people, He'll wait for me even if it will take many years for me return. My family needs me.'
'No. That's wrong. Your family will always be needing you because that is the nature of the family. But you are not created for them. You come from them but you are not to stay in that comfort for all of your life. He made us to serve Him. You only have one lifetime to enjoy and give. You have to get out of your box and decide because it's your life. Sampalin kita jan eh. Sa first mass mo, pupunta ko sa ayaw mo't sa gusto. Basta keep in touch sa facebook.'
He was talking fast. Ako naman tulala habang nagsusuklay sya at sinusukat ang napulot na plastic tiara sa kanyang ulo.
Gusto kong tumawa. Imagine, alas dos ng madaling araw tong usapang ito habang sumasagot sa mga ultra moronic requests ng mga taong hindi marunong mag-activate ng modem. Napakawirdo talaga ng universe. Wala sa timing.
Move.
We could remain clowns and martyrs of our own blinded selflessness but I believe real heroes follow their heart. Truth is never passive. It troubles us and it will never be silent unless we recognize it. Follow your heart they say. So I am taking delight on these beats drumming in my chest. This boy will forever be restless until he gets out of the boxes that hinder him to take flight.
We are all free and no one shall label us nor decide over our fates. We shall dream for ourselves and never allow anyone to limit us. We shall never let others tell what we can only be. We shall be what we want, even if it means leaving home or walking alone. We are who we are for a reason. We are our dreams, our capabilities, our courage.
Move.
Pagkatapos ng labing isang oras na pagtanga sa screen, limang ibat-ibang title, anim na drafts at milyon milyong ideya tungkol sa buhay, pagkokolboy, pag-ibig, kaibigan at mga dagang walang dangal...
wala akong naisulat. fnck.
ilang linggo na kong ganto. ewaaan ko ba. :(
ayoko na talaga subukang umibig, mabuhay at magblog sabay sabay. ponyemas.
Tumatawa sa ka-ipokritohan ng media, ng showbiz at ng kamera. Napaka-ayronik ng mundo. Ang magnanakaw nakakagawa ng pelikula kung san isa syang huwarang OFW tatay habang ang sinungaling na nagpalaya sa kanya eh nagluluxury dinner sa Manhattan kasama ng mga askal nyang tuta. Di ko alam kung mayayamot ako sa walang humpay na kalokohan na nakikita ko. Pero dalawang bagay lang ang alam kong sure na sure na mangyayari. Una, pipilahan ng masa ang come back movie ni Erap para sa mahirap (watda? hmmkei.) dahil kelangan nilang matawa at pangalawa, mababaon na naman sa limot ang resibo ng kinain ni Gloria. Dito ako naguguluhan sa mga Pinoy- kaya nating tawanan ang problema delubyong mala-armageddon man ito o pambansang panggagahasa.
Natural na sa atin ang baha at landslides sa parehong paraan na normal na satin ang tungkol sa mga korap at mandaraya. Nagagawa pa nating kumaway sa kamera pagkatapos ng unos sa parehong paraan na wala tayong pakielam kung totoo nga bang marunong mag-multiply ng boto si Garci. Kung pagbabasihan ang kasabihang ang sinungaling ay kapatid ng magnanakaw, isang malaking angkan ng magkakamag-anak ang pamahalaan at lipunan. Ito ang kultura ni Juan. Mapagtimpi. Marunong magtago ng sikreto. Mahinahon. Tamad.
“His calling is a declaration of love.”
Your response is commitment, friendship, and love manifested in the gift of your own life as a definitive following and as a permanent sharing in his mission and in his consecrations. To make up your mind is to love him with all of your soul and all of your heart in such a way that this love becomes the standard and motive of all your actions.- Pope John Paul II
(credit to http://bonistation.wordpress.com/)

There are people who brave the night to earn a living and live on what they earn. There are people that wander the moonlit sky to find a smoke or a mug, to which they tell all their woes and sighs. Many a people stay awake to find and be found. They have their own stories.
I know of people who find solitude in loneliness. Others hear the tiniest voices in their hearts with loud playslist stuck in their earphones, eternally immersed in music and lyrics. In times when half of the world is sleeping, some people are awake so that they may continue to live.
There are many reasons why people stay awake when they are ought to be sleeping. But to whichever reason people are up to, we can only care less. We have our own stories.
So the beat goes on. So as our monotonous life. Sometimes, we dream of living forever only to find out we can only have a lifetime. Some people stay awake for lust. Some are for love. Some are in between. Permanent or personal. Solitude or sensual. We are all fuelled by the same principle. We are all night voyagers.
It is said that the happiest man on earth would look on the Mirror of Erised and see only his own reflection staring back. I really wish I am back to the boy of five, asleep in my mother's side with all the childish dreams of toffees and toy cars. I wish I am not who I am right now. I wish the night will be over soon so the nocturnals will all be back to the surreal and pathetic world of continous maddening loop of what-to-dos. I wish I could change the world and make time machines but all that I can change is my online profile, my underwear and my hairstyle. I wish I could stop all the madness of the night but all the more, I too was caught by its mysteries and surprises.
My grammar is still bad and this is my darkest hour. I do not know exactly why.
Kulay chocolateng pantalon at jacket. Payong na nawala. Isa. Lima. Pito. Labing apat na bote. Isang pack ng marl lights. Itim na lighter.
May dalawang tao na nakikipagpaligsahan sa lakas ng boses ni Taylor Swift sa basag na speaker. Kasama ng mga kwentong barbero at mga usaping pang-kalawakan.
Buset.
Sabi sa probability of chances theory, isa sa sampung milyong tao ang makikilala mo at maituturing mong parang ikaw sa maraming bagay. Madalas, ang mga taong ito ay mahirap hanapin dahil sa liit ng probabilidad. Mas madalas, hindi mo talaga sila makikilala dahil pwedeng 1. nasa ibang bansa sila nakatira. 2. kamamatay lang nila. o; 3. taga-ibang planeta ka talaga nagtatago ka lang sa katauhan ng isang tao.
Hindi ko na maalala kung paano at kailan ako napadpad sa kutang basurahan nya. Ang tangi kong natatandaan ay isa sya sa mga nandidiri sa mga english posts kong maski ako ay kinikilabutang basahin. Iba ang estilo ng pagsusulat nya. Ibang-iba sa kontemporaryo at balbal na paraan ko ng pagsulat.
May sarili syang mga paniniwala at prinsipyo pagdating sa relihiyon. May sarili syang mundong pilit binubuo at pinapanday. Isa sya sa anim na bilyong tao na naglalagalag at naghahanap. Ordinaryong mukha sa gitna ng dagsang tao sa syudad. Walang pinag-kaiba sa lahat. Ngunit napaka-ordinaryo sa ekstraordinaryong paraan.
Idolo nya si Conrado de Quiros at Patricia Evangelista tulad ko. Isa rin sya sa mga hibang na na nangangarap na makatanggap ng sulat galing Hogwarts balang araw. Mapangarapin syang walang maliw. Ngunit katulad ng isang sundalong patpat, handa din syang isantabi ang panghuhuli ng mga tala bilang maging bayaning walang tabak. Bayaning laging takot.Takot na talikuran ang mga nagmamadaling tawag ng pagkakataon. Nakatali sya sa telepono para maging malaya ang iba. Tsk. Naiinggit nga ako kung tutuusin dahil ilang araw na lang, kakawala na sya sa magulong limbo ng buhay kolboy. At tulad ko, tatlong bagay ang takbuhan nya sa mga panahong wirdo ang mundo: libro, bote at pagsusulat.
Hindi sya makapaniwala na labing walong taon lang ako. Inaamin ko. Dagli kong iniwanan ang pagkabata. At pati ang kakyutan ko ay naapektuhan. Makalimang beses nya akong tinanong kung bakit gusto kong magpari. Limang parehas na sagot ang binalik ko sa kanya.
Sa maraming bagay kami magkatulad. Sa maraming prinsipyo din kami nagkakaiba. Kaya nakakatuwang isipin, nagkasundo kaming mag-inuman at mambolahan. Alam ko ang pangunahing dahilan kung bakit sya naghanap ng kasama para uminom. Naiintindihan ko ang kakaiba kong kaibigan.
Sabi nila isa sa sampung milyong tao lang ang makikilala mo na kaparehas mo ng kawirdohan. At sa pagitan ng mga mga boteng walang laman, marami akong natutunan.
Naalala kong hindi pala talaga makapaghihintay ang buhay. Walang v.i.p sa panahon. Lahat tayo, umaagos kasabay ng lahat. Mabagal man o mabilis.
Tatlong taong pasingkad. Punyeta ka Lio. Sa susunod, walang magdadala ng sumbrero.
You live and die everyday.
You live.
Not because you want
but because you need to.
You die.
Because you are not your self.
you are what they think you are.
You heed calls that are not yours.
And you are trying hard to pretend
that your own calling is yet to come.
So again, you live this moment
then you die another all over again.

What drives you is not passion. And
streetlamps are your confidence while
smoke consumes your air.
The truth is this-
you wear an armor
and stopped chasing stars.
You were reduced to a stargazer
contented looking up on those suspended gas balls
that make up the constellations.
For you, they all mean the same.
(to Lio, Romeo, Kris and Paul and all others, who find theirselves in the backseat just like me.)
mali.
sinayang na ala-ala.
mga kinalimutang kaarawan.
at mga binigong pangako-
makikita mo na lang ang sarili mong naka-palumbaba.
nakitingin sa bintanang walang barandilya,
sumusulyap sa mga talang pipi.
katulad ng mga bote at upos ng marlboro
na iiwanan ko.
sa kwartong naging piping saksi.
sa mga paulit-ulit na pagtatago at paglilihim
at ako. ang. bingi.at ako din ang bulag.
kokomban na nilamukos.
pinilit gawing bangkang papel.
upang paanurin.
sa tuyong daan ng kalye dizon.
[...]
uuwi na ang alibugha.
kasama ng mga inipong basura.
-isang elehiya.


