On Crying (or Not Being Able to)

written in Filipino, translated to English

Gusto Kong Umiyak

Gusto kong umiyak para ilabas ang kalungkutan ngunit hindi ko magawa. Tila ba sawa na ako sa kaiiyak ngunit ang kalungkutan ay magpakailanman hindi nagsawa sa akin.

Naisip ko na kapag ang luha ay tumulo; pagkatapos titila rin ang pag-iyak. At pagkatapos umiyak ay wari bang bago nanaman ang umaga na may dalang kasiyahang inaasam. Ngayong hindi na ako makaiyak, laging sariwa ang kalungkutan sa aking kalooban... at hindi ko na makita ang umaga sapagkat ang aking mga mata'y nalulom na sa kapighatiang hindi na makawala sa aking katauhan.

Gusto kong umiyak ngunit hindi na tumutulo ang mga luha.

~

I yearn to cry

I yearn to cry to expel myself of this sadness, yet I am unable to. It seems as if I have grown weary of crying, and yet sadness never tires of me.

I tell myself that if I could just let the tears fall; the weeping will soon cease. And after lamenting, it will seem as if a new day beckons heralding my hoped for happiness. Since I cannot, sorrow continuously courses through my being, and the awaited morning turns bleak. I am shrouded by grief of which there is no escape.

I yearn to cry but there are no more tears to shed.

On that Sole Reason

contributed by Reginald Tolentino


I hate nights like these,
when I have to work late,
the lamp's orange glow mingling
with the monitor's brightness on low,
dancing wisps over my cup of tea;
a droning air-conditioner debating a Colbert rerun,
that, I wish, I could look over my shoulder and see,
the person I've decided to spend my life with, sleeping,
reminding me; of why I'm awake.

On You Only Live Once

contributed by Bernica Marquez

“Hi. I’m hoping to get the lab results for my biopsy?”

The girl behind the counter politely acknowledged my request, and verified my personal details. She then sifted through her files and reached for a neatly-folded, unassuming white piece of paper. It looked like the letters of admission (or rejection) that universities gave out; only this time, it showed the surgical department letterhead and my name tagged as “Patient” on the front. She hesitated before handing it to me, opting to enclose it in an envelope so I would have a few more seconds before I found out if I had indeed tested positive for colon cancer.

There was no surreal moment when the past 25 years of my life flashbacked in slow motion. There were no regretful cascades of tears on failing to kiss my mom and dad before I drove off to work that day, on missing the last four barkada dinners, on bitterly laboring the past thirteen hours computing budget variances, on not setting foot in Harry Potter World, on missing my chance to say “I do” and raising miniature copies of the man I love. I’m quite ashamed to admit that there was not even a prayerful pause, a last bargain with the world to change what could be the mortal judgment I held in my hands.

For in that moment when you are confronted with the reality that your existence may have reached its limits, there is only swiftness. Whether it’s an unexpected attack, a drop in blood pressure, a speeding bullet, an alarming crash or a blinding light, there is often no luxury of a redefining moment that would change the course of mortal fate. There is only a seemingly deceiving, pure halt of time in the single second when the gavel pounds to conclude the verdict.

As my eyes quickly darted to the word “benign”, I thanked my God and carefully folded the letter back in the exact corners it was handed to me. I smiled over this sweet victory, as I had come back to the reality where I again had each day for a hopefully long, proper, unapologetic goodbye.

On Waiting

The wait is akin to travelling in a fast car as your surroundings whiz past in a blur. Seated anxiously, you wonder for the instance that will hold like a snapshot. You know of this moment well in your heart though it has yet to come. It is like a child you have nurtured in your womb, one whom you have showered with your hopes, believing that when you meet, all your dreams would come into fruition. But where is this moment? Where is this child? The car zooms past barren fields in an endless journey. You are kept yearning.

When being idle becomes unbearable, you play a game in your head. You picture what you are looking for around the next bend. It tingles your being with a momentary excitement. Five..four..three..two.. and the car has turned the corner. It's not there. You thank the game for the solitary respite. There's a few corners up ahead anyway. You play the game again. Five..four..three..two.. tired...

Slowly you come to accept that this life is a collection of events, people, feelings that come and go. They are scenes that play and replay. They feel external to your being. You are the observer, sitting at the backseat of car, whizzing past life in a blur.

Life, on the other hand, waits no longer for you.

On Conversations with a Higher Power

Hello.

I haven’t really talked to You for the longest time. I guess lately I just have trouble believing… not in You of course, but in the plans that You have for me. Most times I just find it crazy how things turn out. Usually You’ll lift me up to cloud nine, then let me free fall back down, without warning and with nothing to break my fall.

You have made me resilient. Countless times I stand once more, stronger after each descent.  Yet the routine plays like an old broken record singing the same requiem. It is getting tiring.

I’m sure that cross was a tiresome burden too. I’m positive my load is not as heavy as the world on Your shoulders, yet like You, sometimes I would think it would be much better if this wasn’t the life I ought to live, my cross to bear. I guess You can understand me on that.

Before, I always prayed for things to turn out better. I would wake up, hoping that it would be the day when I can really really smile. You see, my happiness has always been spiked with sadness. It is like a dangerous cocktail - a momentary bliss followed by a drunken stupor and a serious hangover. Now, I just pray to survive all the cocktails life has to serve me.

I’d be lying though if I said there was not a faint little part of me still hoping for the better. I’d be lying if I told myself it makes sense to believe in You but not trust in what is in store for me. So I guess I am talking to You right now to let You know that I still believe in You… that the only reason why I get up after each fall is because no matter how I have already blinded myself to the idea of a happy ending, it is faith in You that makes me see the light… and though endings don’t always turn out the way we want them to be, what matters is that I guess I try to be who You want me to be… and even in the times that I fail to be that person… You still love me… and in the end, maybe, that is what matters after all.

On a New Day

Set yourself free

...from the chains of sadness

...from the shadows of regret

There will be a time when you feel you can just soar, and live, and love, and embrace this wonderful life.

It may not be perfect.. but it is yours.

It is special.

It starts Today.

On People

I found the first poem I wrote way back in the sixth grade while organizing my computer files today. I remember Ms. Dela Cruz, an English teacher, who constantly shared this to her classes as an example for poetry projects. She urged me to continue writing. Thank you Ms. Dela Cruz. This poem will always be that spark that ignited my desire to write. 

People

A poet sees not with his eyes

But sees as he imagines

A musician hears not with his ears

But hears the music in his heart

A teacher teaches with his knowledge

But his knowledge lives with spirit

A dreamer dreams through his mind

But he strives for this dream to come true

A fighter fights with all his might

But to win he must be true and right

A singer sings with her voice

But her voice comes from her soul

People are people, individually different

But each has spirit, heart and soul

which makes each one truly special

On Hard Work

I have been raised under the "hard work pays off" school of thought. Back when I was young, there were no Batman toys without good marks at school. It was also important to realize that Batman toys were just the tip of the iceberg. Consistently doing good meant entering a good university, which meant a good job, that translates to $$$. 

Work hard and thou shall be rewarded. I think this is the dogma most Asian kids are raised believing in. As long as you persevere and you put your mind to it, there is nothing under the sun that you cannot achieve.

Yes, hard work pays off - mugging for school, tons of practice in sports or your musical instrument, for your SATs, and your job. I've been used to hard work equals rewards. I have lived it well.

There are somethings though that parents tend to leave out.  There is a fine print to this rule, it does have exceptions - that sometimes hard work does not always mean reap what you sow.  

I remember the day in college where I chose to shift out of the Management Honors course. I knew myself. I knew that no matter the hours spent practicing on Accounting problems, I will never be able to live up to a standard that was expected. I simply was not made for this. It was not who I am. I was better off spending my efforts on the regular course, and do well in that. I did. In shifting out, my hard work matched what was demanded, what I realistically could deliver. Recognizing my own capabilities allowed to make most of my efforts.

I remember my first heartbreak, also the first time that I understood what love really is. Time, material things, and even an entire change of self - I gave everything I could. It was not easy. It demanded for me to be patient. All those was for naught. Hard work can only go so much when it comes to matters of the heart. Even hard work cannot change a love unrequited. Then again, it also entails hard work to pick up the pieces and start anew for a future someone who deserves the love one can give. Even in loss, there is work to be done, even if the only reward is to keep yourself whole again.

There are some things that cannot be changed or influenced by pure diligence, some things that require capability. There are things that are out of our hands. There are times when we are dealt with curve balls, surprises or hiccups. In these occasions, we shouldn't blame ourselves. We shouldn't diminish the value of hard work because of failure. It is failure, loss, lack, that fuels hard work so that we can push boundaries. It is these that teach us where to direct our energy. It is these harsh truths that open our eyes to what we can and cannot do, what we can or cannot change.

In growing up, I learned that hard work is important not because it leads you to that pot of gold. I learned that hard work in itself is the prize. It defines who we are. It makes us so much more than who we are yesterday. It takes us to roads that pave the path for a better tomorrow.

On Random Down Days

There are days when sadness is a thief, catching you off guard. It's that peculiar day, which is no different from other days, save that you tend to see things in a shade of grey. There's no victory deciphering this sphinx's riddle. You wake up feeling a bit spent, a bit blank, a bit not-so-looking-forward to the passing hours.

Sometimes I think on these instances, we become truly aware of the human condition. We are finite. We are alone. Therefore, we strive to be infinite by splashing colors to the world, and we move to be part of it by sharing our presence. These instances serve as a reminder, a pit-stop, a reflection - to not despair but to be grateful of our capacity to rise above our finitude through love, through life.

Those days of sadness mean there must be blank spaces still to fill. You may not know how as of yet. The important thing is you know you can.

"I dream of painting and then I paint my dream." 

- Vincent Van Gogh 

On Singapore

Originally entitled as A Question of Home, I wrote this when I had the choice to go back to Manila at the end of my expatriation. I have decided to stay in Singapore and it has been three years now living in this amazing city. Thank you Singapore. You and your people have been wonderful.

A Question of Home

On those pockets of time in my everydays, where silence and self-thought are most coherent, I dabble on the to-be that would be decided today… or soon at the very least. As my good friend Sandy summed up, it is these pivotal points that determine one’s tomorrow - that single choice that would spell out the next years of my life.

It has been a year since I have resided in Singapore, and in that span of time, this city has turned from a career-oriented move to something more personal. From a definite two year timeline, the prospect of staying here is now open for discussion. The once unentertained idea has now become a looming question overhead.

Is it how my tummy savors for ji fan and chili crab? Is it how my tongue can now enunciate the “lahs” and the “mehs”? Do I delight in the ease of the MRT or secretly smile at the hole in my wallet caused by the unending shopping at Orchard? Or being practical, is it simply that the Singapore Dollar trumps the Philippine Peso?

And to those questions I say, the answer is a yes… and yet it would still be a broken yes. Manila packs a punching reminder everytime I take a trip back. There’s always a tug in my heart when I spend time with family and friends I have known since forever. And though Manila may not be as perfect as Singapore, the familiarity of things and the sense of belonging brings about a comfort one cannot find anywhere else. Manila will always be my home. It is that undeniable fact that makes agreement to the prior arguments empty. Staying in Singapore must mean more to me that just those reasons.

And on those pockets of time in my everyday, where silence and self-thought are most coherent, I dabble on the to-be that would be decided today… and I think about

• How fulfilling I find stressing over twenty thousand metric tons of overflowing cargo, battling port strikes and vessel breakdowns, and improving my services could be
• How I have found that sense of peace in me, which I have not had previously
• How proud I am making my parents with me securing my and our future
• Sandy, Eugene, Stephy, Earnest, WB, JJ, Miling just to name a few…  
• My happiness 

To me these are the weighty reasons… these are the bricks upon where I would lay the foundation of my tomorrow should I stay in Singapore.

The choice is tough… but I guess it is comforting that no matter what path I choose, I am grateful to have two places to call my own - one a home, and another a home I can build.

On the Final Lap

Lungs bursting. Muscles burning. Heart screaming. It's that final lap of my run. The body begs for me to pull the stop switch. Respite looms like a sultry temptress offering shelter for my battered being.

When the flesh comes close to faltering, I think of you.

In my mind I play this scenario. Your life hangs on the balance, your fate entwined in my grueling marathon. I must finish lest I lose you. I close my eyes. You smile at me. There is nothing I know now but to race to my destination - You.

Run completed.

You keep me going.

On a Solitary Song

I walk down life’s road all alone
No one is there; I’m on my own
Through the worst, alone I stand  
Not a one, reaching out his hand
Tears fall, I cry alone
No one hears me sob and moan
All I feel is loneliness and fear
An endless silence, I disappear

I lie cold in winter’s snow

My heart hardens; blood stops it flow

No shine beyond darkness’ night
My hope dims, I have lost sight

I pave the way without a guide

Not a one by my side

In this life I walk alone

With no one, I’m on my own

- poetry for the gloomy rainy weather

On Why I Support Reproductive Health

I am Filipino and I belong to the 81% of those who are Catholic. Living in Manila for twenty-four years., I grew up witnessing how my parents work themselves to the bone, sometimes even go in debt, just so that me and my siblings could go to a reputable school and provide for the family's needs. My education, brought about by the sacrifice by my parents, would always be a constant reminder of their love.

In these seventeen years of schooling, I have been molded by Jesuit mottoes of Luceat Lux (Let Your Light Shine) , Lux in Domino (Light in the Lord), and Magis (to be and do more). Apart from a good foundation in your usual Maths, Sciences, Business and Marketing, it is these teachings that I took pride of. It gave purpose to the practical knowledge I gained. Borne out of the love of my parents, the fruits of my education sought for me to be a source of love to those around. It is with this love and concern to my fellow Filipinos that makes me support the Reproductive Health Bill of the Philippines.

The Reproductive Rights is defined by Senate Bill 2378 as follows:

the rights of individuals and couples, to decide freely and responsibly whether or not to have children; the number, spacing and timing of their children; to make other decisions concerning reproduction free of discrimination, coercion and violence; to have the information and means to do so; and to attain the highest standard of sexual and reproductive health.

Support of this bill does not make me less Catholic, rather it makes me more human. It means that though I respect the teachings of my religion, I choose not to be blind to the current plight of poverty plaguing 26.5% of the Filipino people. It means that as a son, I would never want to witness any parent work until it compromises their health, live that every second of the day is spent thinking how to put food on the table, hurt knowing they cannot provide their child with the best education, clothing, shelter... sometimes not even the best but even the most basic of needs. It means that I acknowledge that family planning is a reflection of a parent's concern because it means they are aware that bringing a life into the world is a big responsibility. 

I believe that support of this bill is a choice of love, as a child and as a future parent. It is not renouncing my faith, but an appreciation and a fulfillment of it.  I am still Catholic. I am a Filipino.  But first and foremost, I am human.

On the Tin Woodsman's Love

Wizard of Oz: As for you, my galvanized friend, you want a heart. You don't know how lucky you are not to have one. Hearts will never be practical until they can be made unbreakable.

Tin Woodsman: But I still want one.

- The Wizard of OZ, 1939 

Is there such a thing as an unbreakable heart? Then it would be a heart no longer in its entirety - for a heart breaks, just as it mends itself whole again. But why go through this pain - a wound which will never pale in comparison to any physical injury? Why?

Love, and nothing more, of which nothing greater can be thought. Love because you love, which endures even the breaking of one's heart. Love because it is ecstasy, that no money can buy, no drug can replicate, no thing can replace. Love because you have found yourself in another, not losing oneself, but building something new. Love because it makes vast distances small when you hold someone in your being. Love because it makes nearness into oneness. Love because it is life's main ingredient, not an add-on or flavoring or seasoning. Love because it allows you to see not simply beyond someone's faults, but because it allows you to find joy even in those shortcomings. Love because you hate loving, even when it hurts, even if it has been shattered a dozen times before and even if you shatter it a thousand times still... Love.

Love. Because even if I may never receive your love, I have been made happy with simply loving you.

On Summer Camp Syndrome

Kristl: You know the Summer Camp Syndrome?

Ian: Hmm... haven't heard of it.

Ian: What is it?

Kristl: No, I just noticed it. It's like when you're in summer camp you feel like you'll be super closewith your friends forever.

Ian: But when its done...

Kristl: Then afterwards, you realize that you don't have much in common anymoreand you're not so good friends and you drift.

Ian: Yeah, I get what you mean.

Looking back, we all could probably name one summer-camp-syndrome-friend. Mine would be a friend from high school. He introduced me to Tolkien and Gaiman, to Jose Cuervo and Smirnoff, to Cathy and Marga. We advocated sharing is caring. In English class, we took turns for book quizzes. I'd read A Separate Peace, while he took care of Macbeth. I was the good student while he was the life of the party. 

We drifted after going to different universities for college. It's been nine years since we really talked. Still, I regard him as a good friend. The "summer camp" experience is still fondly remembered today. Those four years of high school was a blast. He has always been a big part of those memories

I'm taking a trip back to Manila in a few months. I think I'll call him out for drinks (though probably not tequila shots like before). Maybe it will be like old times. Maybe it will be something different. I'm pretty sure it will be awesome just the same.

Think of one summer-camp-syndrome friend. Grab your mobile. Drop a line. Catch up. Relive the glory days.

On Endings and Beginnings

It’s an odd feeling knowing that your days are marked. Is this how an inmate feels before he walks the green mile to meet his fate? It’s a calm surrender to the eventual end. There aren't a lot of questions, which is surprising. Simply put, there is a motion that drives you forward. It is a motion that reminisces all things past to prepare you for what is to become. It is a movement that does not trap you to history, but gives value to things that have molded the present. In the preparation to start anew, one cannot entirely scrap the markings of old. Like a roll of film, what has been captured plays one last time as the process of deletion occurs. The film shall always be the film, and what has been imprinted, though gone, has always been a part of it.

In many ways life is like this. We do not always want to go forward and yet, circumstances at times give us that extra push. When life presents us with a new beginning, we come across this process of being in-between the shift from what-is-then and what-is-to-be. Each steps bids us to face the reality of things with more confidence and certainty. Like the inmate who strides towards his fate, every passing moment is both a surrender and an embrace to new possibilities of what lies beyond the now. 

These continuous endings and beginnings is our life. We march on without fear, without regrets, but with hope for better tomorrows.

On Dessert

No meal is ever complete without a sweet ending. The cherry on top, the last hurrah, the "finish him" of food fatalities - to many, dessert stands out to be, if not, the best part of one's meal. By dessert I mean chocolate shavings, cream cheese frosting, molten caramel, all of which packs a knock-out punch of sinfulness. None of these fruit platters and low-calorie yogurts please. Dessert is a dangerous thing: sublime, exquisite and dreamy yet undoubtedly deadly.

My golden rule is that as long as you know your poison well, then you do not have to fear it.   When it comes to dessert though, knowledge on calorie count doesn't come so easy. According to the iDat Application by the Health Promotion Board of Singapore, below are some indicative statistics for your meal's grand finale:

1 slice of:

• Apple Crumble - 354 kcal
• Brownie - 227 kcal
• Banana Cake - 146 kcal
• Black Forest - 259 kcal
• Carrot Cake w/ Cream Cheese Frosting - 145 kcal
• Chocolate Cake w/ Frosting - 537 kcal
• Cheesecake w/o toppings - 335 kcal
• Chocolate Eclair - 206 kcal
• Tiramisu - 250 kcal

I compared these numbers to other sources and concluded that they are quite conservative. I would probably add another 100 or so calories as a buffer. Safe to say, an average cake for dessert ranges from 250 to as much as 700 calories depending on the toppings and ingredients. Banana cake stands out to be the least sinful of the bunch at 140-160 calories, but do it ala P.S. Cafe (my favorite banana cake) with butterscotch syrup and vanilla ice cream then that will come close to 400 calories at the very least.

The stats above are not meant to scare. Honestly, if you have a sweet-tooth I doubt these numbers will hinder you from enjoying your cake. It doesn't hurt though to know how much calories dessert contributes to your daily needs. On a dessert day, try to be more mindful of what foods are taken and be aware of your total calorie consumption. Another quick win is to share the cake slice with someone, in turn, halving the pain of the calorific encounter. After all, dessert doubles its pleasure over coffee and conversation.

Loving dessert doesn't mean you're unhealthy as long as you recognize that it entails the responsibility to keep yourself fit through exercise and a balanced diet. I run 5 kilometers to enjoy my banana butterscotch cake without worry and guilt. What would you do for cake? How much do you really love your dessert?

On Waking Up Thankful

contributed by Georgina Abella 

Thank You. Thank You for so many things and for so many people I tend to overlook every day. Thank You for the moments I am so happy I feel like I could fly and feel like that moment could last forever - and forever would be the most awesome forever anyone could have.

Thank You for the moments I am so sad I feel like have nowhere and no one to turn to for relief, because when I feel like I am at the bottom and all I can do is look up, I see You and I talk to You and talking to You somehow makes it better. I fall asleep praying and I wake up feeling at least a little bit better. Thank You.

Thank You for the littlest things that remind me You’re there - the sun peeking through the clouds on an especially sleepy day, the rain when it’s way too hot, for food on the table even when it isn’t particularly tasty, the bed or the couch even if they aren’t particularly comfortable, the job I have even if I feel like it’s not for me every other day, the people in my life even if not everyone can be close by or particularly understanding or kind. Thank You for challenging me. Thank You for helping me grow.

Thank You for the love I receive every day. I only ask that You continue to help me see and appreciate this love in whatever shape or form it comes in. Thank You for everything good in me. Thank You for all the good in other people. Most of all, thank You for making us loving. 

I love You and thank You.

On Fleeting Moments

When every moment of happiness if fleeting, what can we do to make it last forever? A photograph. A video. A postcard. A souvenir. We always want to preserve these instances, safeguarding them from the ravages of time and from the inconsistencies of memory. At times though, we get too caught up with the act of recording. We become too busy fearing that we'd forget. The present, in turn, becomes a mere substitute for the past we want to keep.

With the wind, your heart learns to fly
Yet swiftly as it brushed your face,
painting a smile
So too will the wind leave you
Solitary and still

You run after happiness
But the wind you can never catch
nor hold in your hands 

All you can do is stretch out your arms
on those fleeting moments
when the gust blows
and embrace the dying seconds
when your heart takes flight.

Live in those dying seconds, then let go. This does not diminish the value of the past. It gives way to a more hopeful future, which will be far greater.

On Losing Mementos

Ver: I lost my wallet last night

Ian: How sad... a lot of memories in there. I know you kept a lot of things in your wallet

Ver: Yeah... Gar's card was there

Ian: Sometimes we lose trinkets of what we hold dear, just so that all the more can we keep it closer to our hearts

Ver: You sound like Dumbledore

On Meeting Someone at a Club

It has been X years of clubbing and you probably never thought you could share a romantic moment there. Sure you've been picked up, or you've picked up someone you like. You tongue-lashed until your tongue lost so much calories from all the physical activity. You body bumped on the dance floor and may have ended up gyrating in a motel somewhere. But hey, it's all part of the clubbing experience. It's hormones and adrenaline. It's where the fun's at. You wear your sweaty alcohol-drenched clothes back on as the sun rises. You're no better off than when you entered the club hours ago.

No fond romantic dreams of meeting "the one" at a club. You want to find this person on a totally random moment. You want to be caught off guard and swept off your feet. Maybe it's at a coffee shop on a gloomy day, this guy sits down with you and shares a cup of coffee.  You don't want to tell your children, "I met your dad in a bar. He bought me five shots of jaager bombs." You want it to be fairy tale worthy.

But maybe, just maybe, you'll find someone at the club when you least expect it.  Maybe he won't use some corny pick up line or stare at you with undressing eyes. Instead of buying you a drink, he'll try to make a move by slipping his pinky into yours. He won't assume you'd hold his hand just yet. You'll stay like this for one whole song, and he'll look at you with sincerity as the last beat plays out. He'll ask for your name, and not the name of your poison. And when you do take his hand, he'll hold it as if it was some fragile treasure. He'll take you by the waist and never skim on to your behind once the rhythm starts once more. He'll smile and kiss you on the cheek out of respect since he doesn't know you well yet.  He'd like to though. You will feel safe. You will feel enamored. You will feel your blood rush and yet that is not the most important thing. It will be him. The night will fade but you will always remember how he held your hand, and how he held your heart.

So for all you romantics out there, the club isn't so bad. It's not all for fun. This kind of thing happens. It does. It did. It is a story book moment.

On Song Speak

Sometimes there is no better way to describe how we are feeling than through song. I aptly call this moment #SongSpeak.  It is the phenomenon of posting lyrics as status updates on Facebook and Twitter, or that moment when you just need to break into a melody. 

Below is a Song Speak on how I think a relationship works out to be. Click the title to hear the songs. 

I see you and I'm so nervous that I want to pee in my pants:

• Superman - Joe Brooks

"So why do I disappear, 
When you come near,
It makes me feel so small.
Why do I blow my lines,
Most every time,
Like I've got no chance at all."

You are my love drug.  I'm addicted to you:

• Knock Knock - Lenka

"When life had locked me out
I turned to you
So open the door
'Cause you're all I need right now it's true
Nothin' works like you"

I'm adickted to you. Let's get it on NOW!:

• Dance Inside - The All American Rejects

"What makes the one to shake you down?
Each touch belongs to each new sound
Say now you want to shake me too
Move down to me, slip into you"

You'll win the oscars for best drama.  Don't want to deal with you:

• Single Life - Cha Cha Malone feat. Jay Park

"I don’t need nobody to hold me down-ow-own
I ain’t one of those waiting for love to come around
‘Cause when it rains it pours, I’m out the door
I don’t need that, no
I love the single life, I love the single life"

Oh sh*t!!! I still love you (and I'm stalking your every move):

• I'll Never Go - David Archuleta

"I'll never go far away from you 
Even the sky will tell you 
That I need you so 
For this is all I know, I'll never go far away from you" 

On Bangkok

There are many memorable things about Bangkok. I enjoyed the gastronomic pleasures from Thip Samai’s Pad Thai (I had two plates mind you).  Heat was a small price to pay to witness the breathtaking Wat Pho temple. Lastly, this shopper’s haven is a treasure trove of unique fashion finds from local brands and designers. Like me, I’m pretty sure most tourists would have those aforementioned listed in their favorite Bangkok experiences. 

What makes me love Bangkok though permeates deeper into its culture and people. Apart from the food, the sites and the shopping, I have grown to love Jai Yen. Jai Yen is the disposition of having a “cool heart”.  It is the nature of being non-confrontational, patient and harmonious. 

This coolness is the secret to the warmth that Thailand and the Thai people showcase to the world. With each sawadee and kobkhunmaak lies an extension of gratefulness for the other’s presence. The calm smile amidst disagreements is an acknowledgement of mutual respect. The concern over other’s well-being provides a sense of belongingness. The best part is Jai Yen does not discriminate. It stems from how the Thai people treat their fellow Thai. Visiting Bangkok allows one to be included in this wonderful sense of community. One cannot but feel absorbed in the pull of Jai Yen, and it is because of this that foreigners discover the soul of Thailand.

Kobkhunkaa Bangkok for the lessons learned. You have taught me well.

On Forty Winks

I’ll sleep the pain

Of you away

Bury the sorrow

In my fluffy feathered pillows

Cope with the coldness

Of solitary nights

By scrunching up

Under my woolly blanket

As I wake

I’ll wipe my eyes dry

Of the tears cried

In my dreams

And bathe in the warmth

Of the sun’s rays

Trying to forget

Your embrace

When the moon bids again

I’ll sleep the pain

Of you once more

And in the morn know

That the sun

Will still shine on me

Though you are distant

With your arms around someone else

On Weddings

I cannot help but feel awe on the effort that goes into weddings. Months of planning boils down to one special moment, which has to be impeccable.

I always wish that the bride and groom would enjoy this day and that everything turns out according to plan - no slipping on the isle, no vow forgotten, and none of the million other things that could go wrong happens. But a dozen other couples would also tell you that looking back, there will always be some flaw on the wedding day, something they wish they could have changed or adjusted. After all, it doesn’t hurt to want perfection.

At this point, I cannot help but think about how weddings mirror the marriage long after the final champagne toast of the night. No matter the preparation, there will always be unforeseen mishaps along the way. In the end, all one can hope for is that in spite of this, the same fervor spent in creating a wedding will be continued in the couple’s challenge of creating a happy married life. 

A few years down the road, everyone will forget about the details of that night. What one hopes to remember is the happiness celebrated on that occasion. One looks back on weddings not to recall the stunning gown or the lavish reception. One reminisces to relive the joy of that new beginning and to celebrate that union each day. It is this joy that makes every wedding day perfect despite the possible little imperfections faced.

On Screwing Up

Once in a while we lose our way. It's that crazy one hundred eighty degree turn from fine to failure. We don't know how we got there, or maybe sometimes we do. Somewhere along the road we took a wrong turn. We spiral out of control. There's only free fall from that point. Crash.

In picking up those broken pieces of whom we are, we form ourselves anew - still the same yet rediscovered. We become aged and imperfect, like an antique, made all the more priceless. 

In losing ourselves, we find ourselves once more.

On Patience

A monk is still with legs folded neatly together. His face is not smiling yet it emanates content. Eyes are closed in an eternal state of zen. His calmness makes time halt and flow together as one. Worries fade away. Peace.

If patience was a tangible object in the world, this monk would be the incarnation. He lives the joy and the serenity of the wait.

Life has lectured me to portray this monk. Life also has taught me that it is hard to be one. Despite of my buzz cut hairstyle aptly placing me in character, I probably will never be able to paint this picture of patience. A quick temper and immediacy are my reigning attributes. I do not know the meaning of zen when asked to wait. I do not want to be kept waiting.

For me, patience is an on-going battle. The actor in play is not a monk but a warrior. It is a constant struggle of holding it out, of not being tired, of keeping spirits alive. I realize that this is okay. Patience need not always be easy. In a war, the most important thing is to believe that victory can be attained. In the midst of battle-scars and uncertainty, it is resiliency that claims the prize. In this regard, patience is not just characterized by the ease of the wait. It is more than being at peace in the process. It is also the desire and the belief that the best is yet to come.

Some of us are monks, the epitome of patience, capable of trusting in the wait and what is to be. But for those who are not, as long as we believe that there is far more in store than that of today, I believe we too will be okay.  Our patience lies in this unwavering hope. It is this hope that brings about our patience.

On Rain

Rain

The icy drops trickle on my bare arms

Yet I do not flinch, not an instance alarmed

Standing, drenched, I do not move

I embrace the rain

Quizzical stares dart at this man

Who in God’s grief, his moves are none

There upon the granite his feet lay

Kissing the tears of heaven’s dismay

Of gusting winds, he fears no cold

A million storms have passed untold

Of thunderbolts, he dares not sigh

For roaring truths have hushed the lies

As raindrops trace my solemn eyes

Heaven’s woe mixes with mortal pain

And as this liquid unites skin and sky

I have embraced the rain

On Cooking

When I was seven, the highlight of my Sundays was dinner with my parents at my favorite restaurant The Italian Village. While kids my age were chomping away hamburgers at McDonald’s, I on the other hand, indulged on a gourmet chicken cream fettuccine. I fondly look back at this memory with the banter of my parents in my head and the delectable taste of garlic cream sauce on my tongue. 

These childhood Sundays easily directed me into choosing pasta carbonara as my first dish to master in the kitchen. It took a number of tries before I came up with a dish that satisfied me. Today, I can proudly say that I can whip up a batch that is restaurant worthy.

Cooking does not always come naturally though to everyone. More often that not, it is more convenient to temper our cravings for our favorite food by dining outside. The perception of cooking being a chore is so commonplace. This is why should you decide to take up the daunting task of cooking, it is paramount that you choose a dish you personally love. Pick something so gastronomically pleasing that you could not imagine life without having to devour it. Moreover, choose a dish that relives a memory not only on your taste buds but also in your mind. Often, this act of enjoying our favorite food is not merely solitary but also a communal act when we share the meal with other people. Cooking then becomes so much more than the arduous task of just chopping, stirring, baking, frying or steaming. It becomes a renewal of past experiences, in which, you allow for future experiences to be savored when you cook for yourself and for your loved ones. Like any other endeavor, finding meaning and joy in the effort makes the time in the kitchen well worth it.

The Italian Village has long been closed. Today, my Sundays are spent enjoying home-cooked carbonara with my mom at our dinner table. Every Sunday, I still am seven years old.

On Wearing a Condom

Ask him to wear a condom. 

Even if he has the most perfect physique, do not falter. When it comes to STDs his rock hard abs won't guard you from harm, a rubber will. 

Do not heed the merman's song of "You are Special" hence I will put my bare meat inside of you.  If you are special, he would care enough to keep you safe, that, or you would be wearing a diamond ring on your finger. 

In anticipation of that random fall-in-to-you-blindly-my-heart-is-racing-I-want-you-so-badly moment, be prepared! Captain America never went to war without his shield. Likewise, no one goes to a bed without a condom! Your man can do all the shooting he wants. You can let the condom take all the damage. 

A condom is your friend, not your foe. Sacrifice a little "oh-OH-yeah-more" for a zen state after the deed.  Should he feel that latex as thin as .019mm can make a difference to his orgasm, remember that this .019mm is the Berlin Wall between his sperm and your egg.

A condom may not be The Savior but it is one of the saviors of the human race. The Church may brand it as the devil's invention, but the Church cannot multiply five loaves and two fishes to thousands that can feed every unprepared family.

Ask him to wear a condom. Demand him to wear a condom. Do it for yourself.

P.S. I support the Reproductive Health Bill of the Philippines

On Stars

Stars

Stars

Up in the midnight sky

Twinkling

Ever so bright

Stars

Here in my life

Twinkling

Making everything all right

Just look up and look around

Know that there is a star to be found