Monday, July 26, 2010
I am the Secret-Keeper
James and Lily’s safehouse is discovered when their friend and Secret-Keeper, Peter Pettigrew, betrayed them to Voldemort. In the Wizarding world, as in the Muggles’, a secret must be cautiously shared.
Skeeter examines the palm on my dominant right hand and correctly infers that I am basically on my first job, and that I am supposedly satisfied with and accomplished in it, then she predicts something that I find rather unlikely – that I will eventually shift to a completely unrelated career, and that I will be happier and probably richer there. This secret of the future, though taken lightly, intrigues me.
The night after, the “white secret” that my right ear is practically deaf is casually revealed to relatively newer dragonboat teammates. Trixie, like most people who discovers this for the first time, tests me by whispering to my right ear. I, of course, could only shake my head and put on a confused look. Encouraged, she became bolder with the things she whispers and started mouthing secrets. To her delight, I literally turned a deaf ear to everything she said. Perhaps it was the exhilarating relief when one unburdens a heart heavy with secret, or the freedom from fear of being judged outwardly or secretly that convinced Alyx, Yves, Tessa, and Chino to whisper to me their secrets, too. I have become the muggle Secret-Keeper.
By then we have resolved the dilemma on whether the Secret-Keeper should further indulge the Secret-Whisperer by reacting to the secret in the way the whisperer prefers. My initial apprehension with the idea because it might negate the exercise being founded on truth was erased when the whisperers told me that getting the desired reaction helps. When Tessa finally got over her initial fears that I am just feigning disability to extract their juiciest secrets, she asked me to tell her “Ang tanga-tanga mo” after she spills it out. I practiced infront of her to make sure I nail the tone and emotion that comes with me saying those words, and when she was satisfied, she tiptoed, and with her hands formed a tunnel from her mouth to my ear, and sent her secret directly to my right ear’s dead nerve-endings. Once done, I looked straight into her eyes and gathered what little thespic talents I have to come off wisely disagreeing while being helplessly supportive to something obviously big for her but totally unknown to me. “Ang tanga-tanga mo.” She practically throws her arms around me, and we hug tightly for a little while.
They ordered sympathy, disbelief, shock, encouragement. I never knew “OK lang ‘yan,” and “Weh!?” can be said in so many ways. Bryan says he has no secret worth whispering. Wish I were him. Laurie wanted to whisper something but couldn’t get over her doubts and fears, so I stopped her because the exercise might not be as liberating for her until she does. Klar opened my eyes to another aspect of this newfound ability, “I’ll whisper a secret about you… You’ll hear it if you’re meant to hear it,” then proceeded to whisper. I swear I never strained so hard before to catch a word but all my efforts were futile tears formed in my eyes. Klar sweetly assured me that that secret is a good thing; practicing what I encourage the whisperers to do, I let it go.
Someone whispered a tad too loudly his secret I heard it. Giving the requested reaction was more difficult than when I was just acting out on an unheard secret. The second time I reminded the whisperer to speak in a lower voice; unexpectedly hearing secrets, apparently, aren’t gonna be easy for me.
How I can make a rewarding career of Secret-Keeping baffles me, but if you’ve got a secret you just need to get off your chest without fear of judgment, you can try telling me, I guess. If that helps.
Skeeter examines the palm on my dominant right hand and correctly infers that I am basically on my first job, and that I am supposedly satisfied with and accomplished in it, then she predicts something that I find rather unlikely – that I will eventually shift to a completely unrelated career, and that I will be happier and probably richer there. This secret of the future, though taken lightly, intrigues me.
The night after, the “white secret” that my right ear is practically deaf is casually revealed to relatively newer dragonboat teammates. Trixie, like most people who discovers this for the first time, tests me by whispering to my right ear. I, of course, could only shake my head and put on a confused look. Encouraged, she became bolder with the things she whispers and started mouthing secrets. To her delight, I literally turned a deaf ear to everything she said. Perhaps it was the exhilarating relief when one unburdens a heart heavy with secret, or the freedom from fear of being judged outwardly or secretly that convinced Alyx, Yves, Tessa, and Chino to whisper to me their secrets, too. I have become the muggle Secret-Keeper.
By then we have resolved the dilemma on whether the Secret-Keeper should further indulge the Secret-Whisperer by reacting to the secret in the way the whisperer prefers. My initial apprehension with the idea because it might negate the exercise being founded on truth was erased when the whisperers told me that getting the desired reaction helps. When Tessa finally got over her initial fears that I am just feigning disability to extract their juiciest secrets, she asked me to tell her “Ang tanga-tanga mo” after she spills it out. I practiced infront of her to make sure I nail the tone and emotion that comes with me saying those words, and when she was satisfied, she tiptoed, and with her hands formed a tunnel from her mouth to my ear, and sent her secret directly to my right ear’s dead nerve-endings. Once done, I looked straight into her eyes and gathered what little thespic talents I have to come off wisely disagreeing while being helplessly supportive to something obviously big for her but totally unknown to me. “Ang tanga-tanga mo.” She practically throws her arms around me, and we hug tightly for a little while.
They ordered sympathy, disbelief, shock, encouragement. I never knew “OK lang ‘yan,” and “Weh!?” can be said in so many ways. Bryan says he has no secret worth whispering. Wish I were him. Laurie wanted to whisper something but couldn’t get over her doubts and fears, so I stopped her because the exercise might not be as liberating for her until she does. Klar opened my eyes to another aspect of this newfound ability, “I’ll whisper a secret about you… You’ll hear it if you’re meant to hear it,” then proceeded to whisper. I swear I never strained so hard before to catch a word but all my efforts were futile tears formed in my eyes. Klar sweetly assured me that that secret is a good thing; practicing what I encourage the whisperers to do, I let it go.
Someone whispered a tad too loudly his secret I heard it. Giving the requested reaction was more difficult than when I was just acting out on an unheard secret. The second time I reminded the whisperer to speak in a lower voice; unexpectedly hearing secrets, apparently, aren’t gonna be easy for me.
How I can make a rewarding career of Secret-Keeping baffles me, but if you’ve got a secret you just need to get off your chest without fear of judgment, you can try telling me, I guess. If that helps.
Sunday, July 18, 2010
Desisyon
Pinikap pala sa isang Philippine Star interview ang AM radio report na nasagap ko maka-ilang linggo na ang nakararaan. Tungkol iyon sa pahayag ni Romulo Neri, ang sinasabing fall guy sa ZTE Scam na yumanig pero hindi bumuwag bagkus ay lalong nagpakapal sa apog ng nakaraang conjugal na panggago ng administrasyong Gloria-Mike Arroyo, bago pa man siya tumangging maging state witness at naghain pa ng not guilty plea sa kasong isinampa sa kanya ng Ombudsman.
Tumagos ang sabi niyang, ayaw niyang maging martir tulad ng kanyang kaklase nu’ng high school na si Edgar Jopson. Here are two men who were practically sown on the same ground, but chose to grow towards very different suns. There must always be a struggle to make peace with how our seemingly personal decisions impact others.
Lalo kong naisip ang effect ng mga ganitong personal decisions habang pinapanood ang farewell episode ng Probe kanina. Two very close friends have the honor of being part of this distinguished news & current affairs group – my ka-Powerbarkada, Celery Aganon-Villamarin, who was Vice-president of Probe Productions, and my good friend from Broad Ass, Adrian Ayalin who was among the last batch of correspondents. They, and a host of other friends and colleagues who were once part of Probe can definitely claim that they have done significant work, something I have yet to be able to confidently declare even in my decade-long career writing for entertainment television, or as my best friend Vichael once put it, “contributing to the idiotization of the masses.” Na-o-offend ako sa mga birong ganu’n, sa totoo lang, aalma ako pero napapaisip pa rin kung ang trabahong nae-enjoy at ikinabobongga ko ay nane-negate ang efforts ng mga hinahangaan ko sa industriya? Kahit pa matagal ko nang na-realize na wala talaga akong personality for news, especially in Probe’s vehement stance against sensational journalism. Ako pa, na ‘di napigilang napa-“Yes!” kanina sa floor ng Showbiz Central nang ‘di napigilang ni Pia Guanio na maiyak habang nilalarawan ang rough patch na pinagdadaanan nila ni Bossing. (Ok, no Pia questions, please. Basahin n’yo sa pep.ph kung gusto n’yo!)
Siguro I have yet to truly make peace with how I am continually choosing to grow; umaasa na balang-araw matutupad din ang sinagot ko sa job interview nu’ng June 2000 kung saan tinanong ako ni Ma’am Wilma kung what I really want to be - “That someday what I do will be considered art.” Pero gustuhin ko man, hindi ko maituturing na art ang mga isinusulat kong scripts at binubuong concepts, lalong hindi ko matatawag ang sarili kong alagad ng sining. Ako ‘yung tipo ng taong isang taon yata ang lumipas sa trabahong ito bago naging komportable na tawagin man lang ang sarili na writer. Siguro inggit na rin ang pinag-uugatan ng pagkayamot ko sa mga taong makalikha lang nang kaunting “art” ay agad na ipapataw ang titulong artist sa kanilang ngalan.
Naging teacher ko si Ma’am Che-Che Lazaro sa Advanced TV Production nu’ng college. Every week, we were asked to produce a video. When a classmate submitted an interview with a streetkid, Ma’am Che-Che was so touched she wanted to organize an outreach program for the kid and his pals. May ilang genuine naman ang enthusiasm sa suggestion, at may ibang mukhang sumisipsip lang, pero ako and a female classmate ang talagang vocal na hindi kami keen sa idea. Ang statement namin, sasama kami kapag ‘yun ang napagdesisyon ng klase, pero kung kami ang tatanungin, ‘wag na lang. Hindi kasi ako komportable sa mga outreach-outreach na ganyan kahit na nu’ng sa Marist pa lang. Wala mang pormal na napagkasunduan ang klase, hindi na lang natuloy ang outreach.
Bising-busy na kami nu’n sa mga major subjects, at dahil elective lang ang kay Ma’am Che-Che, hindi ko siya gaanong priority. One time Sheila and I weren’t able to produce anything (dahil na rin mas priority ang Broad Ass kung saan siya nag presidente at ako ang bise.) So what we did was get an old Broad Ass music video na shinut noon pa, tapos nangatok ng editing house para lagyan ng graphics ang video. Dahil 1999 ito, hindi pa mabilis ang rendering so magdamagan ang simpleng pangdodoktor sa music video. Ang catch, kalbo ako sa video, eh, ang lagu-lago na ng hair ko nu’n, so nu’ng umaga, bago kami pumasok sa 8:30 AM class ni ma’am, nangatok naman kami ng parlor para magpakalbo. Walang electric clipper ang baklang nagising namin sa isang maliit na parlor sa Tandang Sora so pupungas-pungas pa niya akong ginupitan hanggang sa maging semikal ako na tulad ng sa videong ipapasa namin. Walang shampoo-han sa maliit na parlor sa nangangati-ngati pa’ko sa mga buhuk-buhok nang chinenes namin ni Sheila ang music video na shot using a “one-camera, proscenium stage treatment.” Natuwa naman si ma’am.
Ngayon, kesa matulad ako sa ilang TV reporters d’yan na daig pa ang mga papansing artista kung gumimik, eh, inabandona ko na ang path towards becoming a broadcast journalist, ‘di ba?
Isa pang ini-imbibe kong aral mula kay Thea nu’ng pababa kami galing Baguio ang “choose to be happy.” Kunsabagay. Ang pinakapaborito kong istorya ng Probe ay tungkol sa isang babaeng ni hindi ko maalala ang pangalan. Isa siyang art student, Pilipina, mas bata pa sa’kin. Umere ang kuwento niya during a severe emo phase of mine. May sub-titles pa yata ang interview niya dahil halos ‘di na maintindihan ang pagsasalita niyang apektado na ng isang matinding sakit sa utak. Hindi siya humihingi ng awa kaya nagde-design siya ng mga t-shirts para makalipon ng pera pang-opera. Tanong sa kanya, “Hindi ka ba nade-depress sa sinapit mo?”
“Hindi,” agad niyang sagot nang ngumingiwi-ngiwi pa ang mukha niya’t kumikislut-kislot ang mga kamay, “sinabi ko sa sarili kong bawal ma-depress.”
Tumagos ang sabi niyang, ayaw niyang maging martir tulad ng kanyang kaklase nu’ng high school na si Edgar Jopson. Here are two men who were practically sown on the same ground, but chose to grow towards very different suns. There must always be a struggle to make peace with how our seemingly personal decisions impact others.
Lalo kong naisip ang effect ng mga ganitong personal decisions habang pinapanood ang farewell episode ng Probe kanina. Two very close friends have the honor of being part of this distinguished news & current affairs group – my ka-Powerbarkada, Celery Aganon-Villamarin, who was Vice-president of Probe Productions, and my good friend from Broad Ass, Adrian Ayalin who was among the last batch of correspondents. They, and a host of other friends and colleagues who were once part of Probe can definitely claim that they have done significant work, something I have yet to be able to confidently declare even in my decade-long career writing for entertainment television, or as my best friend Vichael once put it, “contributing to the idiotization of the masses.” Na-o-offend ako sa mga birong ganu’n, sa totoo lang, aalma ako pero napapaisip pa rin kung ang trabahong nae-enjoy at ikinabobongga ko ay nane-negate ang efforts ng mga hinahangaan ko sa industriya? Kahit pa matagal ko nang na-realize na wala talaga akong personality for news, especially in Probe’s vehement stance against sensational journalism. Ako pa, na ‘di napigilang napa-“Yes!” kanina sa floor ng Showbiz Central nang ‘di napigilang ni Pia Guanio na maiyak habang nilalarawan ang rough patch na pinagdadaanan nila ni Bossing. (Ok, no Pia questions, please. Basahin n’yo sa pep.ph kung gusto n’yo!)
Siguro I have yet to truly make peace with how I am continually choosing to grow; umaasa na balang-araw matutupad din ang sinagot ko sa job interview nu’ng June 2000 kung saan tinanong ako ni Ma’am Wilma kung what I really want to be - “That someday what I do will be considered art.” Pero gustuhin ko man, hindi ko maituturing na art ang mga isinusulat kong scripts at binubuong concepts, lalong hindi ko matatawag ang sarili kong alagad ng sining. Ako ‘yung tipo ng taong isang taon yata ang lumipas sa trabahong ito bago naging komportable na tawagin man lang ang sarili na writer. Siguro inggit na rin ang pinag-uugatan ng pagkayamot ko sa mga taong makalikha lang nang kaunting “art” ay agad na ipapataw ang titulong artist sa kanilang ngalan.
Naging teacher ko si Ma’am Che-Che Lazaro sa Advanced TV Production nu’ng college. Every week, we were asked to produce a video. When a classmate submitted an interview with a streetkid, Ma’am Che-Che was so touched she wanted to organize an outreach program for the kid and his pals. May ilang genuine naman ang enthusiasm sa suggestion, at may ibang mukhang sumisipsip lang, pero ako and a female classmate ang talagang vocal na hindi kami keen sa idea. Ang statement namin, sasama kami kapag ‘yun ang napagdesisyon ng klase, pero kung kami ang tatanungin, ‘wag na lang. Hindi kasi ako komportable sa mga outreach-outreach na ganyan kahit na nu’ng sa Marist pa lang. Wala mang pormal na napagkasunduan ang klase, hindi na lang natuloy ang outreach.
Bising-busy na kami nu’n sa mga major subjects, at dahil elective lang ang kay Ma’am Che-Che, hindi ko siya gaanong priority. One time Sheila and I weren’t able to produce anything (dahil na rin mas priority ang Broad Ass kung saan siya nag presidente at ako ang bise.) So what we did was get an old Broad Ass music video na shinut noon pa, tapos nangatok ng editing house para lagyan ng graphics ang video. Dahil 1999 ito, hindi pa mabilis ang rendering so magdamagan ang simpleng pangdodoktor sa music video. Ang catch, kalbo ako sa video, eh, ang lagu-lago na ng hair ko nu’n, so nu’ng umaga, bago kami pumasok sa 8:30 AM class ni ma’am, nangatok naman kami ng parlor para magpakalbo. Walang electric clipper ang baklang nagising namin sa isang maliit na parlor sa Tandang Sora so pupungas-pungas pa niya akong ginupitan hanggang sa maging semikal ako na tulad ng sa videong ipapasa namin. Walang shampoo-han sa maliit na parlor sa nangangati-ngati pa’ko sa mga buhuk-buhok nang chinenes namin ni Sheila ang music video na shot using a “one-camera, proscenium stage treatment.” Natuwa naman si ma’am.
Ngayon, kesa matulad ako sa ilang TV reporters d’yan na daig pa ang mga papansing artista kung gumimik, eh, inabandona ko na ang path towards becoming a broadcast journalist, ‘di ba?
Isa pang ini-imbibe kong aral mula kay Thea nu’ng pababa kami galing Baguio ang “choose to be happy.” Kunsabagay. Ang pinakapaborito kong istorya ng Probe ay tungkol sa isang babaeng ni hindi ko maalala ang pangalan. Isa siyang art student, Pilipina, mas bata pa sa’kin. Umere ang kuwento niya during a severe emo phase of mine. May sub-titles pa yata ang interview niya dahil halos ‘di na maintindihan ang pagsasalita niyang apektado na ng isang matinding sakit sa utak. Hindi siya humihingi ng awa kaya nagde-design siya ng mga t-shirts para makalipon ng pera pang-opera. Tanong sa kanya, “Hindi ka ba nade-depress sa sinapit mo?”
“Hindi,” agad niyang sagot nang ngumingiwi-ngiwi pa ang mukha niya’t kumikislut-kislot ang mga kamay, “sinabi ko sa sarili kong bawal ma-depress.”
Sunday, July 11, 2010
my will...so far
Reminder: 'Wag mabahala. Nagiging pragmatic lang ako. Lahat tayo mamamatay, at least kapag nangyari may reference kayo.
MAIN CONCEPT:
Catholic Burial, please. Sana may songs na pang-YFC! (Anima Christi/ Lord I Offer My Life to You/ Fix My Eyes on Jesus) Celery, can you help here?
ELEMENTS:
Closed casket unless some people request viewing. I’d rather people remember me alive than my cadaver.
A simple wooden casket would do.
If possible, do not cremate me. Tao lang ang hayop na hinintay ni Lord na mamatay muna bago kainin ng ibang hayop, ayoko nang ipagkait ang katawan ko sa purpose na’yun.
In a large notebook, ask people to write down their funniest memories of me. Parang magiging isang Memoriam Jokebook of sorts.
Who knows how to make my Facebook account into a permanent memorial? May ganu’ng feature daw, eh.
Kung gagawa ng AVP, ‘wag nang malungkot na kanta, please. Patay na nga pampatay pa ‘yung scoring!
PROGRAMME:
Over-all in charge of program – Jaypee/ Dexter (para OC)
Host – Hmmm…ako kasi lagi nagho-host sa mga events ng friends ko so wala ako idea kung sino puwede…
Ito sana ang mag-deliver ng eulogy. In this order, ha.
1. HAYDEE BELLEN
2. TC
3. Person/ People from GMA kung may gusto
4. FRIENDS who’d like to volunteer (UPDT/ MOUNTAINEERS/ EXTRIBE/ TEAM PMI/ UP-CMC/
MARIST)
Please, as much as possible, i-pinpoint/ mag-volunteer na agad kung magsasalita para makapag-prepare ng speech, mahirap umadlib sa lamay!
Baka may ilang groups ding gagawa ng AVP, sabihin din agad
Kung meron akong nakaligtaan ng gusto magsalita, gumawa presentation, mag-perform, please just approach those in charge of program agad
Kung may kakanta, paki-research na lang ang favorite songs ko
5. ADRIAN AYALIN
6. Representative from BROAD ASS
7. VICHAEL ROARING
8. SHEILA
9. POWERBARKADA
10. Segue to song number from CINDY
11. Anyone (or more) among my BROTHERS AND SISTERS
12. PARTNER
13. DAVE-DAVE
14. MOMMY AND DADDY
ASSIGNMENTS:
Thea – please rid my condo of all porn before turning it over to my parents; ask help from Adrian, Vichael and future partner
Junie – please enact my will, make sure family and partner get all benefits from insurance, bank, etc.
Roy/ Kit – inform people down south for assistance on next item
Powerbarkada – you might have to tell my parents, see above item
Eartha – please fix claims from sunlife
Sheila – please track down my ayala life agent (mike z.) for claims
Sa claims kukunin ang panggastos sa libing
Can I be buried in your plot so I can be beside you forever, Mom and Dad?
MAIN CONCEPT:
Catholic Burial, please. Sana may songs na pang-YFC! (Anima Christi/ Lord I Offer My Life to You/ Fix My Eyes on Jesus) Celery, can you help here?
ELEMENTS:
Closed casket unless some people request viewing. I’d rather people remember me alive than my cadaver.
A simple wooden casket would do.
If possible, do not cremate me. Tao lang ang hayop na hinintay ni Lord na mamatay muna bago kainin ng ibang hayop, ayoko nang ipagkait ang katawan ko sa purpose na’yun.
In a large notebook, ask people to write down their funniest memories of me. Parang magiging isang Memoriam Jokebook of sorts.
Who knows how to make my Facebook account into a permanent memorial? May ganu’ng feature daw, eh.
Kung gagawa ng AVP, ‘wag nang malungkot na kanta, please. Patay na nga pampatay pa ‘yung scoring!
PROGRAMME:
Over-all in charge of program – Jaypee/ Dexter (para OC)
Host – Hmmm…ako kasi lagi nagho-host sa mga events ng friends ko so wala ako idea kung sino puwede…
Ito sana ang mag-deliver ng eulogy. In this order, ha.
1. HAYDEE BELLEN
2. TC
3. Person/ People from GMA kung may gusto
4. FRIENDS who’d like to volunteer (UPDT/ MOUNTAINEERS/ EXTRIBE/ TEAM PMI/ UP-CMC/
MARIST)
Please, as much as possible, i-pinpoint/ mag-volunteer na agad kung magsasalita para makapag-prepare ng speech, mahirap umadlib sa lamay!
Baka may ilang groups ding gagawa ng AVP, sabihin din agad
Kung meron akong nakaligtaan ng gusto magsalita, gumawa presentation, mag-perform, please just approach those in charge of program agad
Kung may kakanta, paki-research na lang ang favorite songs ko
5. ADRIAN AYALIN
6. Representative from BROAD ASS
7. VICHAEL ROARING
8. SHEILA
9. POWERBARKADA
10. Segue to song number from CINDY
11. Anyone (or more) among my BROTHERS AND SISTERS
12. PARTNER
13. DAVE-DAVE
14. MOMMY AND DADDY
ASSIGNMENTS:
Thea – please rid my condo of all porn before turning it over to my parents; ask help from Adrian, Vichael and future partner
Junie – please enact my will, make sure family and partner get all benefits from insurance, bank, etc.
Roy/ Kit – inform people down south for assistance on next item
Powerbarkada – you might have to tell my parents, see above item
Eartha – please fix claims from sunlife
Sheila – please track down my ayala life agent (mike z.) for claims
Sa claims kukunin ang panggastos sa libing
Can I be buried in your plot so I can be beside you forever, Mom and Dad?
Friday, July 09, 2010
IMPOSIBLENG walang GUWAPONG "person" para sa'kin!
Noong unang panahon sa isang training climb, may isang aplikante ang nanghula sa’kin na isang taong mas bata at kakilala ko na ang magiging first boyfriend ko. Hindi ako makapaniwala nu’n kasi wala akong hilig sa mas bata, at mas lalo sa mga kakilala ko nu’n. Nang ‘di ko namamalayan, a couple of years after, naging first boyfriend ko nga ang isang mas batang friend of a friend.
Hindi ako naniniwala sa hula talaga. Magpahula man ako, it’s more out of novel curiosity, pero ngayon umaalingawngaw sa alaala ko ang isang interesting na hula. Mahahanap ko raw ang taong para sa’kin pero sa bandang dulo ng buhay ko na. So the day na maging happy ang lovelife ko, mag-draft na kayo ng eulogy n'yo for me!
Natutuwa nga ako sa konsepto ng 2012. Hindi ako nababahala kung sakaling gumunaw na nga ang mundo sa loob ng dalawang taon. Ang hiling ko lang, ma-publicize ito na animo’y may countdown pa. Pakiramdam ko kasi babaligtad ang mundo, magbabago ang mga patakaran kung paano natin patatakbuhin ang daigdig at ang mga buhay-buhay natin. Wala nang faraway future tayong paghahandaan. Hindi tayo mag-aaksaya ng panahong mag-aral ng kursong hindi naman natin gusto pero kinuha pa rin natin dahil ito ang in-demand abroad. Ni hindi tayo magtitiyaga sa isang nakakaburat na trabaho para lang may pambayad ng educational plan ng mga anak natin. Babagsak ang konsepto ng komersyo na pawang profit lang ang habol. Aanhin pa nga ba ang limpak-limpak na salapi kung mawa-wipe-out din naman tayong lahat in two years?
At kung tulad ng pelikula na merong major project para magsalba ng ilang taong maaatasang magsimula muli, hindi ko pipiliing mapabilang dito. OK na’ko blissfully living my life in a sort of tragically happy timebomb, isang buhay na wala nang masyadong consequences, wala nang fears of what every fucking decision will do to one’s future. Imagine, no one would have to put up with difficult people or circumstances because it’s “necessary.” No one, and nothing would be necessary. We would all just be one world of people trying to enjoy and make the most of our short time left in this world. Ma-achieve na nga natin ang utopia, pero ang irony ay ang mabilisan nitong pagwawakas.
A few months back, I uncharacteristically burdened my Mommy Monster with a gripe: “Hi, Ma! Sometimes I feel that my career is all I’ve got so though it gets too difficult at times, I persevere because if I quit I’ll have nothing.” But I immediately padded it with “but I’m OK, Ma. Don’t worry about me. Just work stress talking.”
Part of my Mommy Monster’s reply: “That’s why you are assured of our unconditional love no matter what.” My eyes almost teared up, but that sustained me through yet another magdamagang meeting.
Unconditional love. Such a vague concept for me. Even from my mommy. Don’t get me wrong, happy naman ang childhood ko. Siguro it’s a middle child thing. Ika nga ng character ni Marcia Gay Harden sa “Meet Joe Black,” nang mag-apologize dito ang amang si Anthony Hopkins for seemingly favoring her younger sister – “I felt loved.”
My dad is a professor, and has written books on logic. Artist din siya. Personality-wise, I may have gotten my mom’s energy, humor and carefree attitude; at my core is my dad’s calculating, rationale temperament. Kaya pati sa scripts importante sa’king things make sense, iikut-ikutin ko siya sa utak ko para dapat plantsado, logical ang succession ng cause and effect. Kaya naga-grasp ko rin ‘yung konsepto ng no shortcuts pagdating sa pagbi-build ng career o ng pagme-maintain ng personal and professional relationships. Unti-unti talaga ‘yan, titiyagain mo, take in the bad with the little good you see dahil sa huli it will pay off.
But love, it all seems so random to me. Just how many assholes have a seemingly perfect person unconditionally loving them? I’ve seen too many. And I…I have my Mommy Monster.
***
Pero ayoko nang maging nega. Iwawaksi ko na ang paniniwala kong I’m not good enough. Sabi nga ni Thea, imposibleng walang para sa’yo. IMPOSIBLENG wala para sa’yo. Ang galing, ‘di ba? Na-astound talaga nang unang sinambit sa’kin niya ‘yan on our way home from Baguio last week. Ganu’n ka-positive at trusting sa universe talaga? Ma-try nga!
My mom texted me a couple of weeks ago na she’s praying daw that I find that “person.” From a woman married 38 years to the same man with nary a major fight, cutesy tampuhan lang, and who claims that growing up she’d pray na makapangasawa raw siya ng guwapo, and now everytime she wakes up, she looks at my dad daw and gushes na ang guwapo ng napangasawa niya, mukhang promising. Sana nga lang guwapo ‘yung “person” na pinagdarasal niya for me!
Hindi ako naniniwala sa hula talaga. Magpahula man ako, it’s more out of novel curiosity, pero ngayon umaalingawngaw sa alaala ko ang isang interesting na hula. Mahahanap ko raw ang taong para sa’kin pero sa bandang dulo ng buhay ko na. So the day na maging happy ang lovelife ko, mag-draft na kayo ng eulogy n'yo for me!
Natutuwa nga ako sa konsepto ng 2012. Hindi ako nababahala kung sakaling gumunaw na nga ang mundo sa loob ng dalawang taon. Ang hiling ko lang, ma-publicize ito na animo’y may countdown pa. Pakiramdam ko kasi babaligtad ang mundo, magbabago ang mga patakaran kung paano natin patatakbuhin ang daigdig at ang mga buhay-buhay natin. Wala nang faraway future tayong paghahandaan. Hindi tayo mag-aaksaya ng panahong mag-aral ng kursong hindi naman natin gusto pero kinuha pa rin natin dahil ito ang in-demand abroad. Ni hindi tayo magtitiyaga sa isang nakakaburat na trabaho para lang may pambayad ng educational plan ng mga anak natin. Babagsak ang konsepto ng komersyo na pawang profit lang ang habol. Aanhin pa nga ba ang limpak-limpak na salapi kung mawa-wipe-out din naman tayong lahat in two years?
At kung tulad ng pelikula na merong major project para magsalba ng ilang taong maaatasang magsimula muli, hindi ko pipiliing mapabilang dito. OK na’ko blissfully living my life in a sort of tragically happy timebomb, isang buhay na wala nang masyadong consequences, wala nang fears of what every fucking decision will do to one’s future. Imagine, no one would have to put up with difficult people or circumstances because it’s “necessary.” No one, and nothing would be necessary. We would all just be one world of people trying to enjoy and make the most of our short time left in this world. Ma-achieve na nga natin ang utopia, pero ang irony ay ang mabilisan nitong pagwawakas.
A few months back, I uncharacteristically burdened my Mommy Monster with a gripe: “Hi, Ma! Sometimes I feel that my career is all I’ve got so though it gets too difficult at times, I persevere because if I quit I’ll have nothing.” But I immediately padded it with “but I’m OK, Ma. Don’t worry about me. Just work stress talking.”
Part of my Mommy Monster’s reply: “That’s why you are assured of our unconditional love no matter what.” My eyes almost teared up, but that sustained me through yet another magdamagang meeting.
Unconditional love. Such a vague concept for me. Even from my mommy. Don’t get me wrong, happy naman ang childhood ko. Siguro it’s a middle child thing. Ika nga ng character ni Marcia Gay Harden sa “Meet Joe Black,” nang mag-apologize dito ang amang si Anthony Hopkins for seemingly favoring her younger sister – “I felt loved.”
My dad is a professor, and has written books on logic. Artist din siya. Personality-wise, I may have gotten my mom’s energy, humor and carefree attitude; at my core is my dad’s calculating, rationale temperament. Kaya pati sa scripts importante sa’king things make sense, iikut-ikutin ko siya sa utak ko para dapat plantsado, logical ang succession ng cause and effect. Kaya naga-grasp ko rin ‘yung konsepto ng no shortcuts pagdating sa pagbi-build ng career o ng pagme-maintain ng personal and professional relationships. Unti-unti talaga ‘yan, titiyagain mo, take in the bad with the little good you see dahil sa huli it will pay off.
But love, it all seems so random to me. Just how many assholes have a seemingly perfect person unconditionally loving them? I’ve seen too many. And I…I have my Mommy Monster.
***
Pero ayoko nang maging nega. Iwawaksi ko na ang paniniwala kong I’m not good enough. Sabi nga ni Thea, imposibleng walang para sa’yo. IMPOSIBLENG wala para sa’yo. Ang galing, ‘di ba? Na-astound talaga nang unang sinambit sa’kin niya ‘yan on our way home from Baguio last week. Ganu’n ka-positive at trusting sa universe talaga? Ma-try nga!
My mom texted me a couple of weeks ago na she’s praying daw that I find that “person.” From a woman married 38 years to the same man with nary a major fight, cutesy tampuhan lang, and who claims that growing up she’d pray na makapangasawa raw siya ng guwapo, and now everytime she wakes up, she looks at my dad daw and gushes na ang guwapo ng napangasawa niya, mukhang promising. Sana nga lang guwapo ‘yung “person” na pinagdarasal niya for me!
