Take Me Away

A HAPPY-LAZY-COWARD! THAT'S ME!!!

yeah, i am happy. very very happy. deep within my heart i know and i feel i am very happy.

and i'm not lying. just believe and don't ask... cos i'm not entertaining any god-damn-fucking question or comment!

SUPER-DOOPER

Hooray! I am happy! Yes, I am! I had been under gloom for a long time, and I am over it now. How I wish I can use a very effective intensifier in it's superlative degree and express what I'm feeling right now without violating any rules in grammar. Hmmm...ok, simply put: I am super-dooper-mega-to-the-max happy!!! :) How's that? (*wink)

COLOSSAL TRANSMUTATION

"Hope is a good thing. Maybe the best of things. And no good thing ever dies. - Andy Dufresne, The Shawshank Redemption"

I was craving for chicharon and beer the other night. No, I wasn’t craving, I was fiending! Like how I crave for sex, I wanted chicharon and beer so badly that I was almost ready to kill (bugs and insects) - that’s how I felt last night. I rummage the fridge but didn’t find anything that my taste buds like, and so, I was forced to spend my last 100 pesos to get something to eat in the nearest sari-sari store from home. I wanted chicharon but f*ck they don’t have it! And so I bought, instead, 2 packs of peanuts, 2 packs of dilis (a pinoy-snack - a small variety of fish that ranges from half-an-inch up to 3 inches, dried, and dyed red, and seasoned with salt and sugar and whatever other seasoning they add to it), a pack of Marlboro red, and a liter of Redhorse. And that left me with, aahhmmm…yes…2 pesos of change. Yeah, I am down to my last pesos. For 3 months and some days, I spent almost a hundred fifty thousand pesos just bumming around. That money was saved and was supposed to be used on my trip to US. But things changed because of some inevitable reasons. Anyways, I was able to visit places like Puerto Gallera (twice), Baguio, Pangasinan…etc…etc…, and a few of SOGO hotels and Eurotel around the metro (haha). And I was able to survive without working from last week of January to date. Haay…

I was feeling extremely lonely again. I can say I am good now. I’ve been writing about non-sense stuffs and about my exceedingly pessimistic thoughts in most of blog entries. Maybe that’s the reason why I can’t move on with my life. Dang! Things that hurt me in the past still manage to comeback and relive all the sorrows and throbbing pains over and over again -like a never ending cycle that slowly tears my entirety. I thought I already learned the secret of the power of positive thinking a long time ago when I read Rhonda Byrne’s book. Wat da pak ish hapenin to mee??? Arrrgghh!!! I hate that feeling. So I got to move on! Yes!!! I am moving on with a smile on my face. I told a friend about my desire to be positive but he said all were just a deja vou of what I said before. So to put things simpler - he doesn’t believe that I am ready to move on. He said my “move-on” is just a make-up word, a politicians word, so to speak. Well, we’ll see. He gave me something to read and think about: The 12 Steps of Alcoholics Anonymous (AA). It’s not just for people addicted to alcohol. The 12 Step Program was made and outlined as a course of action for recovery from addiction (not just on alcohol - that also includes addiction to drugs, overeating, addiction to sex, etc) and other behavioral problems. Another friend told me that I got to get my life together before I try to do anything else - like finding love, etc. And they’re both right. I need to help myself, and prove myself ready and worthy of whatever the universe has to offer me. Thanks to you, Jaime and Mark.

I will find a regular job. Yes. I need a regular job. I want to start now and change my life. I realized I want my mom and siblings, and all my loved ones, proud of me. I’ll get a job, earn big money, and finish my degree. And also, I’m tired working as a secret agent for a secret company who works on secret missions, and my contract with them is almost over anyway. Duh! I am completely wasted now and I’m nothing better than a big dirt bag.

I want to get my own apartment soon. Yup. I am moving (again) to Makati/Ortigas area. I might live with a friend or might get a place of my own depending on my budget. Only problem that I have is the source of fund…dyaran…what now??? I am expecting to get a few thousands from Convergys, and my last paycheck from the secret company I am working for. Imagine, I resigned last January and I haven’t gotten my back pay from CVG yet! Don’t blame Convergys - it is my fault. I only processed my clearance last week of April. Yes, that’s how lazy-geniuses really work!

If there are things that I need to improve in myself, that’d be “Money-Management” and my “Emotional Quotient”. I suck at both.

I've been so busy doing nothing but focusing my entire life with all the negative thoughts, that I failed to give my blog a little update. I sometimes feel we are no longer in sync with what’s going on in my life. I’ve been through a lot but I only shared my bloggie a few of them. Worst is that most of the things I‘ve been sharing with my bloggie are the bad ones.

***This one’s for you bloggie: Sorry bloggie. I failed to provide you the right and enough attention that you need. Now that I have nothing and starting over, I realized you are the only one I have. You’ve been by my side during the hardest days of my life. You have transformed from 360 to friendster to blogger, but you are still here - just a few-hits-on-my-keyboard away. I am so sorry I failed to love you like how a loyal friend and lover should be loved. I love you so much my bloggie….***

I swear to keep a regular update on my blog from now on. When I say regular, that’d be like every week. But all will depend on my mood to type and on my brain’s capacity. And I promise, I will try to write about happy thoughts, and will not just focus on the negative ones. I want to talk some sense this time. I’m tired of being sad and feeling lonely, and being down, and being afraid of what‘s going to happen tomorrow. Guess everything that a man does has a breaking point. All things must pass, all things must end - happily. I want to start over and change myself from the cynical I had become to someone optimistic and worthy of being loved. After all I am tired of seeking and enjoying self-suffering.

AFTERWORD:
I watched again The Shawshank Redemption, and it helped me remember and realize the things that I already know, but I chose to forget. I want to be a happy-man now. Like Andy Dufresne, like a free bird, I want to be. And yes, not all birds are meant to be caged - my feathers are just too bright to wallow inside the cage of loneliness that I built myself. Yeahey!!! I am moving on and will be happy. I know this would be a long journey whose conclusion is uncertain, but I hope and believe all will be fine. I never believed in changes, till I found myself ready to change to something better - and I am real.

The Next In Line!

I don't know where I'd been these past few days. I was like abducted by aliens or some sort of and kept me away from blogging. Arrgghh. I don't enjoy this anymore!!! I got to be serious with life. Shit!!! I will try to convince myself to look for a regular job before April ends (or on the first week of May). Gawd...this is torture. I hate working. But I need to get a regular job so I can get myself a healthcard, in case, let's just say, my body malfunctions because of too much blood in my alcohol system. So I freaking-need a healthcard!!!

My youngest sister graduated last April 18! Yeahbaaah!!! Hoooray!!! And yes! All my siblings have their degrees and diplomas now. I will soon get mine and be a licensed Mechanical Engineer (but I still need to convince myself more.) Sigh. Enough stuff about my pathetic-self. Going back to my sister's graduation...we failed to take a single picture during the entirety of the graduation ceremony in PICC. The battery of our digital camera died some minutes before the ceremony started. Fcuk. They were all so busy taking care of everything they forgot to recharge the battery of the digicam. Harhar.

Well, after the graduation, we headed to MOA, bought batteries for the cam (I will try to upload few of those pics from MOA), ate late lunch, did a little window shopping, and played bowling. It was my first time to play bowling (I swearrrrr...and I'm not kidding.) But the first-timer-me got the highest point of 145, with 3 stikes. So I thought maybe I was born a natural bowler. Oh my God, now I am getting more confused! I have so much talent that I don't know now which one to develop! I took an IQ test in Facebook and it said I'm a brilliant person and I have an IQ level above 140. What the fcuk??? Was it really me?!? Hahaha! What a hoot! That's crap, and I'm certain. I do not even know how a derivative of a function at a chosen input value in calculus describes the behavior of the function near that input value. So how can I have an IQ level of above 140???

**********************************************************
An IQ test for everyone:

Direction: Read the question very carefully. Write your answer in a 1/4 sheet of paper, fold it lengthwise. Write your name, year, section, and suking tindihan, and include signature, and drop it in your neighbor's mailbox. NO CHEATING!

(Question 1 of 1)

Devide 30 by a half, plus 10.
(a.) I don't know. I need a scientific calculator.
(b.) 25
(c.) 30
(d.) 70

P.S. Leave a comment to declare your answer...if you are brave enough to answer.

**********************************************************

Duh... I am bored. I need to get a regular job soon. I cannot go on like this. I'm tired working as a secret agent in a secret mission for a secret employer. And I need a healthcard!!! My hypertensivity and cardiovascular what-ever might be worsening because of too much blood -ooopss, sorry, too much alcohol in my blood system. On the lighter side, I lost 5lbs from my original weight last month! Yeeaaahaaahh!!! Way to go!

DON'T WRITE ME OFF YET

Take Me Away

(Lifehouse)

This time all I want is you

There is no one else

Who can take your place

This time you burned me with your eyes

You see past all the lies

You take it all away

I've seen it all and it's never enough

It keeps leaving me needing you

Take me away

Take me away

I've got nothing left to say

Just take me away

I try to make my way to you

But still I feel so lost

I don't know what else I can do

I've seen it all and it's never enough

It keeps leaving me needing you

Take me away

Take me away

I've got nothing left to say

Just take me away

Don't give up on me yet

Don't forget who I am

I know I'm not there yet

But don't let me stay here alone

This time all I want is you

There is no one else

Who can take your place

I've seen it all and it's never enough

It keeps leaving me needing you

Take me away

Take me away

I've got nothing left to say

Just take me away

SHURIKEN-JUTSU!

I want to be a ninja!

I got myself my first Shuriken...yeeehhaaa!!! I need to get myself my first Kunai too. Now I can start practicing the arts of Shuriken-Jutsu. Humanda kayo! (Feeling Naruto ba?)

FOR RENT: BUDDHA-WITHOUT-THE-WISDOM'S BODY... ANY TAKERS?

*Photograped by my friend Jaime Orogo in Pio Duran, Albay.

Summer time is here. Yep! Hurray for the Beaches!!! But… the freaking hotness of summer is hell. It’s just too much! Eerrr. I feel like I’m the biggest-walking sweat gland on earth (that is if there are other walking-sweat glands that exist). Oh mai gawd… I hate the heat! I sweat up a storm when it’s summer. The only time I enjoy the heat is when I’m in the beach. I never enjoyed sweating profusely inside my room because of heat. Right now, as I type this sentence, the Google City Temperature meter/tool/gadget (whatever it is fucking called - I really don’t know) in my desktop registers 33 deg Celsius. That’s freaking hot!!! I have to carry two handkerchiefs with me, one on each side pocket of my shorts. The sweat glands from my head to toe, especially in my hands, are all celebrating and are partying with sweats. Sweating is perfectly normal, I know. It plays a very important role by maintaining our bodies temperature by cooling us down…blah blah blah. I learned it in Sineskwela. But at the rate my sweat glands are working, it seems like it is some kind of a strange disorder. And yes, they say occasionally sweating too much can be a sign of medical problem. I know I have halfzeimers (? That is half-Alzheimer’s), I am hypertensive, I have a slight psychological disorder, I’m alcoholic, and what else….is stupidity a form of sickness? Arrgg. Sometimes I think I was mistakenly placed in the Philippines, by whoever that is who places things and people on earth. Whoever that is should have placed me somewhere cold…. where ice and snow exists…someplace like, ammm… Alaska. Yeah. And I want to go to Sitka.

:-( Here I go again.

People - that is my friends, and others who exist around me, have been wondering why someone unemployed, non-working, useless jerk like me exists and continues to live without a regular job? I went to Bam’s place last Wednesday and had a “little-drinking-session-with GrandMa”. That is Grand Matador Brandy, to people who don’t know. There were only four of us drinking; Bam, Anne, Ghie and myself. Actually, there were only 3 of us since Ghie only had a single shot and went up to her apartment and never came back. Serge, who initially said he’ll be coming, didn’t show up for some reason that I can’t remember. Chris had to go with his family to Batangas that night (I‘m not sure but it starts with a B, wherever that is I forgot). And Belle, the new mom, who sent me a message some hours before I went to Bam’s said she’ll be coming too - but like Serge she never showed up. Anyways, going back to our drinking session, I was bombarded with high-energy-intriguing questions about my capability to survive without a job. It was like I was seated in the BUZZ Hot Seat. Ok… I’ll make the story short: they asked me if I have a “Sugar Mommy.”

What the fucking question is that??? I laughed really hard! Harharharhar….

And then I passed out.

I don’t have a supporter, and I am not that complete bum like they think I am. They wonder why I am able to buy things… and still have a little something to spend for out of town trips. People… I am working. Y es, I am using my body to make money. Hahaha… Hello??? Will anyone ever be interested to Buddha without the Wisdom‘s body? (Yeah, I know some people swoon over me, but of course I am just kidding when I said they swoon over me). Come on! I have a job but it’s something that I cannot tell anyone. It’s a secret. And just like James Bond, I would have to kill you if I tell you what my job is. Scared? Ok… I am not working. I just have a little savings and I would have to find a regular job soon. Maybe go back to Convergys, or apply someplace else. Really dunno. I don’t want to make plans anymore. I hate disappointing myself with unaccomplished plans, and I hate it even more when I disappoint my loved ones. Planning is no longer part of my second-rate vocabulary. I am learning now how to do and react on things as they go. I now play it by ear.

I was supposed to go to Angeles City yesterday. But I decided not to go. I felt like it would be best to stay at home and surf the web. I got myself a new game in my laptop! Weee!!! Actually, it is the first and only game my laptop has. Grand Theft Auto that is. Ok…ok…. I know it is not a new game and I shouldn't be so proud and happy about it. But I'm old-school! I admit it! Until now I still find it really hard to navigate the game. Fuck! I have never played a computer game since I was in College. The only game I learned to master was Star Craft Broodwar. And That was only it. I remember I had to delete the whole game from our pc when I was in my 4th year college. A report had to be submitted overnight, but the fucking computer that we had (it‘s completely dead now) would not allow me to finish my report without freeing some diskspace in its RAM. Several unnecessary files where already deleted but it still did not do the trick. As much as I hate to delete the game, I had no other choice but to do it. Fuck. And that was the end of my computer gaming career.

Oh, by the way, some night last week (I believe it was Thursday night), I had a really really freakin-bad dream. I had a nightmare. It scared the hell out me, for real. This is what happened in my dream:

(Cue: Soundtrack of Night f the living Dead, here)

“I was sleeping in a bed with a woman, who I do not know - probably a bar girl. I was on her left side, and on her other side was a cute little boy who I think starred in some TV shows or movie. Ok… I was half awake in my dream. I saw the boy looked on the woman, and said “Serbidora” in a very childish-cute-way. The woman opened her eyes and smiled at the boy. The boy slowly moved closer to the woman like he was about to give her a good night kiss on the cheek. To my surprise he slowly bit on the woman’s neck and sucked out blood, then slowly feasted on the woman‘s neck. I pretended to be asleep as I watch the boy eats the girl (hmm… I think that last sentence sounded like porn…boy eats girl’s ***bleep***…yeah). Then the boy turned his attention to me (now the heterosuxual porn becomes gay…oh my goodness). The boy climbed on the woman’s dead body while his eyes were pinned on my chubby neck. The innocent looking boy was smiling with blood on his face, and slowly moved closer to me and said the same exact word, “Serbidora…”, and I punched him. The boy’s face flattened on the pillow. But he slowly climbed again up the woman’s body towards me, as if he was not hurt at all by my punch. I wanted to get myself up from bed but I couldn’t. The boy goes, “Serbidora…” again and was coming closer to my face like he was going to kiss me too (oh yeah…it sounds like a gay porn), but I punched him again. The same thing happened 4 times, until after the 4th time I punched him hard, the boy got up quickly and transformed into an evil-looking-baby-boy (parang tsanak) and screamed “SERBIDORA…!!!” like he was ready to swallow me whole. I screamed and punched the boy-monster repeatedly.”

I woke up from the bad dream still punching the pillow in my mother’s bed. I was really scared I got up quickly and rushed to the door. Putang-ina talaga, men, promise!!! I told my sister what I dreamt about, and she laughed. I told her Serbidora will follow her to her apartment in Boni, but she said “Ulol, dyan lang yan si serbidora noh, humanda ka kasi my sequel pa yan!!! Bwahahahah!!!”

That is the scariest nightmare I ever had. Whew…good thing I survived the attack.

But what is that “Serbidora” about? Of all words, why did the monster-child in my dream kept on saying Serbidora? I can’t find any relevance of that word in my dream at all. Could it be the woman I was sleeping with was a serbidora from some club? Maybe. But what the heck… it’s just a nightmare. Drop the topic.

You probably notice I kept on switching from one topic to another. I don’t have much story to tell today.

Shit.

A friend (the one related to BB and Robin) told me she likes my blog. She said I wrote something that made her cry and that she felt the emotion that I injected in it. I was really surprised to hear that my writings made someone cry. But duh?, I’m not even impressed with my own work. She was drunk when she told me that, I guess that’s why she said it, hahaha. I write for my own satisfaction. I have so much angst and pains inside that has to be vented in whatever way before the torturing heat blows inside and destroys me completely. Writing about what I feel and what makes me sad is like a quick fix to my sufferring. It makes me feel better even for just a nano-second time. Ok, I’ll stop from here.

I am happy. I need to be happy. I am happy now. Yes I am! And I am not pretending to be happy, promise!

I WANT TO GO TO BORA!!! SOON!!!

RE: Chip Tsao's "nation of servants"

A very insignificant worm in the apple of journalism has succeeded in getting our attention. I won't go through the root of this discussion. I assume many of you have already heard and read about this Hong Kong Magazine writer/columnist named Chip Tsao, who called the Philippines a “nation of servants.” A very brave, but stupid comment, I must say.

Clap, clap, clap to Chip!!! (Arrgghh!!!)

I have once dreamt of becoming a journalist. I was even planning to write my own book, but that was before. I realized serious-writing is way, way over my intellectual capability, and so I have decided to have that dream rest in peace. I will still continue to write though, but I will never feel guilty if ever I missed some points in my writings or made a grammatically incorrect sentence because I am not a professional writer. I studied 4 years of mechanical engineering, and I think being good in both Math and Words is a real talent. (wink) BTW, I want to say sorry to my friends who I intentionally neglected these past few days. Been going through a lot because of some emotional challenges life has struck me, but I can say I am doing better now. I am not happy, but I am feeling better and moving on with life each day. Yes, I am, as you have requested - (I don’t know if you are reading this but you know who you are. I hope all is good with you in Sitka). I was having a good rest in bed the other night, when I heard about this Chip Tsao on the news. I already decided to get over it, but couldn’t help writing something about it. We were in my good friend Chris’ home last night and celebrated his birthday, and at some point in our conversations, when everyone was already drunk, Chip Tsao managed to get into it.

Though my heart is bursting with anger and disgust, and my restless mind truly bothered by his idiotic and moronic statements, I will try to be as calm as possible. So this will be a one-quick-blow:

Fuck you Chip Tsao!

Whew!

Ok, now I feel better. That’s all I want to tell that freaking-Chinese-columnist. I have a high regard for journalists because I dreamt of becoming one before. It’s a profession I really respect. What Chip Tsao wrote got me mad in the beginning, but I feel better now. In fact, I pity him now for not having the good values that most people in his and our country have. I grew up from a very good family, where respect to others is really valued and practiced. What he had written in his column just nudged and angered the polite Philippine Society. I am not very good in expressing myself, but I hope this post serves its purpose.

I want to clarify that this article is not to battle out with China or it‘s people as a race. I have a few Chinese friends, and even fell in love with one, so this has nothing to do with the Chinese. I worked for almost three years in an international customer care service answering calls from people in the US. And yes, hearing derogatory, and somehow racist remarks from “some” Americans had been part of my customer service career. That was what my job was about - answering calls from financially (and mentally???) challenged people in the US. I know America is a great country, and many of them are good and friendly, but sadly most of the calls I was getting were from people with a-little-refinement. I just don’t understand why people like them, and Chip Tsao, exist. Is it to balance nature? To balance the flow of Yin and Yang? Predators and preys? Educated and uneducated? Hmmm…. Maybe.

If we will check back history, discrimination against Filipinos has been there for ages . It is primarily due to economic reasons. Ok… this is a fact: Filipinos are seen by others as people who are willing to work on almost anything for low wages in other countries, and it really bothers me. It is sad, but true. What would you expect - even our own government encourages it’s citizens to go and work abroad for that “better-opportunity-for-living” dream, instead of creating more jobs here and finding ways to make a more sustainable and stable economy so people won't have to move outside the country to work. Ok - I know it is easier said than done and I am definitely not in the position to lecture our “educated” government people… but that is what our government’s job is!!! That’s what they’re supposed to be doing! Doctors here in the Philippines are going abroad to become nurses to earn more - what the crock is it??? Why is this happening?!!

Going back to Chip Tsao, what he wrote was a real stupid remark. It's a writing that lacks the application of “common-sense” principle, which is very vital in writing. He has just reduced himself into a complete nothingness, in terms of writing, and has shown how uneducated he is. I am not a professional writer, but I believe, just like everybody else, that as a journalist, one has to be really careful about what he write and say - responsible writing that is. Yeah, as rational beings we are all entitled to provide our own opinions in whatever way and manner we want, but not to the extent of hitting what the whole world regard as taboo. His “ The War at Home” article was not just about Filipino people in general. It is also about other countries who have been suffering from the cruelty of racists. I learned from the news early this morning that Tsao has already made a public apology, but it didn’t really sound like one. It’s more of defending his evil work, and disguising it as a “satirical column” which his publishers noted as something that can be read in "different ways". Duh??? This is what Tsao said in his apology:

"The ‘servant’ is a sacred term. A Hong Kong government official is a civil servant. We are all servants to God, right? I’m now aware that I’ve crossed the line and I offer my public apology."

Ok… now I want to shove on his face a part of what he wrote:

“As a nation of servants, you don't flex your muscles at your master, from whom you earn most of your bread and butter.”

What I say: Yeah right…servant is a sacred term; that is according to Chip Tsao.

The root of all this chaos is the Spratly Islands which both the Philippines and China claims. It is an issue between two countries and not between two races - if you see what my point is. Spratlys is a legitimate issue, and just like all other big issues in every corner of the world, it can be discussed without insulting an entire nation and discriminating an entire race.

When I first read Tsao’s article, I wanted to go to Hong Kong and find him, and grab him by his neck while I tell him how his country should be called a nation of cheats - where most of the substandard products, equipments, and rip-off items came from, and are being sold here in the Philippines by Chinese business men. I wanted to counter all his bad words against Filipinos in his article by throwing back all the cheating that their people do in our country. I wanted to tell him that majority of the drug lords here are Chinese; about how they try to manipulate and substandardize products, including foods and medicines, to cheat the world and earn money. A lot of incidents were already reported about Chinese nationals caught producing fake paper bills here in the Philippines. The list can go on and on. I wanted to tell him all that. But I am not gonna say it (though obviously I just did).

This isn’t the first time that Chip Tsao has faced accusations of racism in his writings. He has done quite a few. Google Chip Tsao and see what I am talking about. sk tsk tsk… I’m sure his mother wouldn’t be happy about it.

RESPECT. That’s another thing that we need, aside from love, and sex (insert dirty grin here).

Waaaahh…. I know this nation-of-servant-issue deserves a more and thorough full-blown discussion. I wanted to make this entry longer but I am so tired and sleepy na… haaaayyy… Pffft… Now that Chip Tsao has made (as what he claims as) a public apology, he just have to brush his manners clean and silence himself. I know this is a long shot, but if ever Chip Tsao gets to read this post, I have one good suggestion for him: try writing about how China should be called the Master of Cheaters. I think that’d be more interesting. (smile)

And to our government people, the ones we elected for the betterment of our country, I hope what Chip Tsao wrote motivates you to do your job. Just take the lead, Madame’s and Sir’s, and WE WILL FOLLOW.

Someday, when my dogs are old enough to talk...

“Heaven and Earth have sworn that the truth shall remain forever hidden”
- Isaac Bashevis Singer, “The Dead Fiddler”

and from this moment on, it will be.

To MLW:

Someday, when my dogs are old enough to speak, they might tell you the truth I showed you late, and you failed to understand. I wish I was born a dog so you’d take time to listen to me…and maybe hug me, and walk me, and let me sleep beside you in bed, and maybe love me unconditionally too. I’ll let my dogs do the job I failed to do.

In a short period of time… everything that I, we, had been slowly putting up into a reality of forever happiness crumbled down into gazillions of pieces…irredeemable…and now you tagged it as just a waste of time. Mistakes are, sometimes, needed to come up with the right one. Mathematicians, physicists, scientists, made thousands of mistakes before they came up with their theories, formulas, and inventions. Why can’t I have a second chance?

Tonight should have been a perfect one. A warm but nice weather, a cold glass of chocolate drink, fast internet connection, a very silent night… I have everything I need to get this done in a jiffy. But I don’t have any inspiration at all. I am breaking down. Just another lonely night I need to get through. I thought I’d never write another entry after my previous. Half a life is what I have now. I guess I still have a little strength remaining to make my brain and hands work. And I also somehow realized the need to continue writing while I still can… while I am still alive. I need to let you know what I failed to tell you when I was younger - when I was still immature. Yes. Someday, when my dogs are old enough to talk… maybe you’d start listening to what I have to explain. I lied about one page of my life, but I swear… The person I showed you is the real me and not just the person I thought you’d want to see. It was the real me you learned to love, and it is also the real me you now hate. I am sorry it ended up this way.

I still wish to play with you in the snow. Maybe someday we'll find it wasn't really wasted time.

LEAVING NOW

I WAS HAPPY AND FULL OF HOPE. BUT I GUESS I AM REALLY GOOD IN FUCKING THINGS UP. I WILL NEVER BE HAPPY AGAIN NO MATTER HOW I TRY. DESTINY HAS EVERYTHING WRITTEN - IT IS USELESS TO RESIST. THIS WILL BE THE LAST ENTRY HERE, SORRY GUYS. I HAVE NO PURPOSE. I AM LEAVING. DEATH IS INEVITABLE.

HEAT TRANSFER

I have totally reduced myself to a complete boredom. I am totally not satisfied with where I am at life. I feel it’s about time to do something meaningful before I end up killing myself, but I don‘t know where and how to start. Now that my youngest sister is graduating in college, I feel the desire to go back to school and finish my mechanical engineering degree, or maybe get a different degree, or anything - like, eerrr, cosmetology, just for the heck of getting a diploma. Got four choices right now. I would either finish my ME degree, or take up nursing, or fine arts, or conservatory of music. Anything just to let people know I have some use too. I’m afraid I am becoming someone worthless now - for real. Huge time and opportunities were already wasted. Most of them cannot be recovered - like a cracked egg that will soon rot. I am actually an epitome of an unsold-cracked egg that has no future but to waste bag. My youngest sister will graduate this April. And yes…all my siblings have their diplomas and degrees. And I’m the only one who sucks. OUCH!!!

I am planning to move outside the country. I want to work and study at the same time, if possible. I told my sister about my plan of studying in the US but she just laughed in my face. “Hala, ang tamad-tamad mo nga bumalik sa school tsaka wala ka ngang pang-tuition dito tapos sa US mo pa balak mag-aral?” Well, she has a point there. It may sound unrealistic to some. But I feel the urge to be successful… I want it… before I die, or before I kill myself. I know I should be doing this for myself, but I’m not. I am doing this to prove people that I‘m more than just a dirt bag. If that also means doing this for myself, that I do not know. I just want to have a paper to shove people’s faces in case they ask for it.

I applied at Monbukagakusho - Japanese Government Scholarship last 2004. I was planning to get a double degree in engineering then, Mechanical and Electrical, and then get a Masteral degree right after. I was so certain it’s what I want and that I can do it. Only problem was I failed to submit all the requirements needed - I failed to provide them my transcript of record from Mapua. Oh… I really don’t want to discuss it. But alright, I’ll tell you why, but never dare laugh at me. I had a balance of 13,000 pesos in Mapua and I couldn’t get my transcript without paying the balance in full. Yes….13 Thousand effing Pesos ONLY. It may be a small amount, but was not for my family at that time. My father at that time was undergoing an intensive-and-expensive medication. He’d been in and out of the hospital - St. Lukes to Makati Med to Manila Doctors. He had cancer and other sort of complications to his internal organs because of it. More than a hundred thousand effing Pesos every month - excluding the medicines that he had to take. He had his retirement benefits and medical insurances but those didn’t help a lot. Money was a big issue. During that time, I used to go to school with only a hundred bucks in my pocket - 60 of which goes to transportation, and the rest will be spent on whatever I’d be needing in my whole day class including food. I almost had nothing for food. That was when I realized the value of money. ’Twas 1,200 pesos per unit during my last two terms in Mapua, if my memory serves me right. And that was when I studied the most… I certainly cannot afford to fail a single subject. During that time I also worked as a student assistant in the registrars office encoding students’ subject load. But my main goal was to get a scholarship, for that was the only way I can continue my studies. A grade point average of 1.00 - 1.50 (1.00 being the highest and 5.00 the lowest) will get me qualified for a full academic scholarship - which was nearly impossible to get. I never heard anyone in my batch who was able to get a full academic scholarship. A grade point average of 1.51 - 1.75 will qualify me for a half-academic scholarship - and that was my target. During my second to the last term in Mapua, I got 1.83 GPA. Obviously it wasn’t good enough. I told my mom I’ll try to get the scholarship next term - so I enrolled again, but I only made a down payment and not the full amount. It was a make or break situation for me. Getting a GPA of 1.75 would save me half of my school expenses. I was on my 4th year then - all major subjects. When all my classmates where just targeting to pass and get a grade of 3.00, I was targeting 1.75 GPA. I did good, almost. Got myself exempted in the final exam of two of my subjects: Thermodynamics 2 and Strength of Materials. All the details I remember - clear and precise. I was the only student in my professors classes who got exempted in the final exam. I thought I’d get the scholarship. But - I did not. I got a GPA of 1.78... A difference of 0.03 to what I needed! Damn!!! What went wrong?!? I cried when I saw my class card - I got a grade of 2.00 in Heat Transfer!!! That bullshit professor only gave me a grade of 2.0!!! I immediately went to my professor to ask about my grade. He told me I missed an exam during one of my absences. He showed me his class record - the date when my class took the exam…and it showed I wasn’t around. Thoughts started to meander my restless mind. He was smiling at me while he was explaining what happened to my grade. I wanted to punch the old bastard until his face flattens on his desk. He was still explaining my grade but I walked out on him… I walked away without uttering a word. That was the end. I gave up.

I willingly stopped from my studies to help save money for my father’s medication. One of my university professor referred me to the Monbukagakusho - Japanese Scholarship program. It’s a scholarship given by the Japanese government to students who are willing to study in Japan and study their language for a year and continue a degree of his choice in a Japanese University. It’s a free education with monthly stipend given to the scholar - how can you be so lucky! Oh well… I had everything ready at that time, had been frequenting the Japanese Embassy Library to study and prepare for the exam. All were set except for my transcript of record - because I could not pay the 13,000 effing pesos balance in Mapua. I was 20 back then. I told my professor about my problem and told him I’ll get the scholarship the next year. That’s when I became an official member of Philippine - OSY (out-of-school-youth, LOL), and started to work in MSE. A year after my first attempt, I learned that only students who are 20yo and below can get the Monbukagakusho scholarship. Oh fuck! And so again, I gave up.

I have been looking for colleges and universities in the US that may have scholarships available for foreign monkeys. My passport will be delivered on the 17th. Yes, that’s the first step and I’m done with it. Heck, what am I gonna do with just a passport alone?!? I need to find a school that will let this stupid-Asian-monkey study and work at the same time abroad. If getting a degree is a part of my purpose in life, I do not know. I just want to move outside the country and have a paper to shove people’s faces in case they ask of it - and I think that is it. I still don’t know what my real purpose in life is. I remember asking a colleague in CVG before (Belle) about what her real purpose in life is. I asked her when we were texting each other, "what if your purpose in life already happened when you were still a kid… when you stepped on a dog-shit acidentally, and, that’s it. What if that’s the only reason why your were born and raised in the Philippines? What if that was your main role in the universe? Just to step on a dog-shit… papayag ka ba?" She answered, "Ang babaw naman nun! Di man lang ako magiging politician?! Di man lang ako magiging mayaman?!" I told her, "Well, we’ll never know. We might have already served our purpose in life, but as rational beings, we tend to make the most out of our lives that we dream of becoming this and that someday. We can die after we have served our purpose of living." I waited for her text message, but she didn’t answer back. She probably realized I wasn’t worth-talking to.

BUDDHA WITHOUT THE WISDOM

Ok…chances are, if you’re reading this, you want to know more about me…or you just want to check if I have written another nonsensical stuff . I'm not complaining.  That’s what blogging is for, right? It would beat the purpose of posting it online if I won’t let anyone read it. I might as well just write a diary in paper if that’s the case.

Usual blogs begin with a primer about the blogger. I have been blogging for ….aahhm….more than 3 years now, but I have never thought of writing a good primer about me. But it’s never late to describe myself. I am lazy… I am so fucking lazy there are times when I don’t want to move at all. Ok, so that gives a bit info to digest. When someone asks me for my stats, I usually laugh in their face. One thing, number’s don’t describe the important parts of me, at least, not the truly important parts of my being. I am a nice guy, and I think that’s what matters. Never dare ask about my weight because you’ll never-ever get an honest answer. Ok… for those who haven’t seen me in person, I am like the ugly version of Buddha without the wisdom. (But I'm not that big, ok…yes, I stock, but not fat!) A very special someone used to call my extra-baggage “love-handles.” You see, there are ways to describe unpleasant things in a nice and more acceptable way.

Ok…moving onto smaller topics, here’s a list of things that describe and interest me…in no particular order:

• Lazy (already mentioned)
• Computers (on them almost day and night….waaaah…someone got to get me off them, pls..!!!!)
• Reading (John Grisham‘s, Mitch Albom‘s, Neil Gaiman, and other local writers)
• Guitars (got an acoustic Lumanog guitar and a Fender Stratocaster - Squire Series, Made in Mexico! Originally released in the 70‘s.)
• Drawing (I believe I was born with the talent to draw but I do not really use it. I used to draw with pencil and charcoal. I might get into it again.)
• Music (I can listen to almost anything but Pinoy Rap! All are crap!!! Except Francis M - he‘s good. I have written a few songs. One of them almost made it to the semifinal-selection of the Himig Handog Lovesong of ABS-CBN. I was 18 yrs old then. - yabang lang, haha)
• Foods (I LOVE eating.  Pizza and fries and ice cream and fruit salad)
• Chocolates (no particular brand…but anything that is made from chocolates are a real turn on -from chocolate bars to cakes to drinks)
• Beer (I used to drink every other day. But now, because of my limited budget I am forced to do it once a week. When in bars, I drink nothing harder than Vodka-tonic.)
• Sweat (Yes, I sweat easily, specially my hands. It’s like 2/3 of my body is made of super-active sweat glands.)
• Haircut (I used to cut my own hair, but just last month I decided to give it up for the mean time - I had a professional cut my hair - for a change)
• Naruto (that‘s my favorite Japanese cartoon at the moment - used to be Samurai X. If I will describe myself - I am more like Shikamaru and Gaara. A hybrid of those two.)
• Boring (In general, I am wearingly dull, repetitive and tedious. But I can be fun with fun people. It depends on the people I am with)
• Photography (not a professional photographer but I like taking photos with my old Nokia N73‘s 3.2 Mega-pixel Camera. I might get a real camera soon.)
• Love-sick Pup (it says it all)
• Sex (sometimes)
• Single (very much available…any takers?)

That’s a fair-late start, but there’s more out there. More things to learn and discover about me. Ask questions as you want and I’ll answer them as best as I can. However, I do reserve the right to not answer.

I am thinking of going back to school to finish my Mechanical Engineering degree. I remember someone told me before...

“You better know what you want to do with your life first before you get myself involved on your fairytales of a perfect life. No one can make your life perfect except you! Do not be content with what you have, shake your life up a little bit. Grow up and move on, not for me, but for yourself!”

I cried after that.

Yeah, another thing, I cry as easy as I laugh. And I hate it.

SURROGATE BOYFRIEND (fiction / short-short story)

“Can you go with me to the party with my colleagues?” I asked, still trying to sound cute. That was the third time I asked her that question. But she’s really good in ignoring questions and shifting to another topic. She grabbed my hand and walked me to the clothes store that socialite women, and gay men, swoon over.

She started running her hands on the clothes displayed on the New-Arrival section of the shop the moment we stepped inside. “Does this look good?” She asked me. I gave her an Ok-nod. We just had a fight the night before and I don’t want to spend another night on the phone apologizing because she's upset. It happens a lot. Petty fights that gone major due to petty reasons. I wanted that night to be special. I didn’t want to get into another hot water.

“You think so? Hmmmm...nope... I think it won’t look good on me.” Fishing through the clothes again she saw two more dresses that interest her. “Oh, these look perfect!" This time she didn’t ask me if it really were perfect. She handed me her bag and walked away. I wanted to tell her “They’re not perfect honey, but they will be once you put them on.” But she’s gone to the fitting room.

Trying to figure out what exactly is happening between us makes me crazy. I looked outside the store and glanced at the other couple walking outside the shop. “Why can’t we be like a normal couple?” That was the question I cannot dare answer. Everything is blurry.

Minutes passed and she finally went out of the fitting room. She called me. With the way she look, I know exactly something is wrong. I approached and asked her what’s going on. Face-all-frowned, she turned her back on me and I saw the lace of her dress all tangled up with the necklace I gave her two weeks ago. “I see.”

I guided her back inside the fitting room. “What the hell did you do with it?”

“It’s the damn necklace you gave me! This isn’t the first time it got me into trouble. Last week was my hair, and now it’s my shirt. Ohhh!!!” She said in dismay.

“Easy, honey. I have things under control. Let me take care of this for you.” Trying to concentrate on the necklace did not help. Her soft and smooth skin steals my attention. I intentionally rubbed the back of my hands on it while I untangle the troublesome necklace off her shirt’s lace. Taking my time...she noticed what I was doing.

“You’re doing something you’re not supposed to be doing, panget!” I laughed. “I'm already doing you a favour. Don’t be so ungrateful honey.” And I continued working on the necklace.

My body pressed closer to her. My front pressing behind her. But she did not let go. She shifted her head to her right, and I took it as a sign. I kissed her neck gently for a few good minutes, sliding my lips on her skin, smelling its lovely scent, and letting my tongue work a little. Soft moan freed from her lips. My hands stopped working on the tangled necklace and moved to her waist and held her closer to my body... enough for her to feel my proud manhood. I wanted to do more. Want her all mine. Just mine. I moved my hands and cupped her breast...enveloping it completely made her moan a bit louder, “Hush baby...” I softly told her. I turned her to face me and kissed her on the lips...hard...just like how we do it in my apartment. My hands now working on her behind, caressing it the way she desire –softly and lovingly. Slowly, I moved my head downward without lifting it from her skin, so I can smother her neck, and slowly worked my way down her chest. That was one of the moments that make me wish I did not let her go. She was all mine before. But not anymore. I was so stupid to let her go.

Her phone rang and she jerked away. She fished her bag and took her phone. She gave me a very familiar look before she answered her phone. The same look I have seen so many times.

“Hello...hello....yes?...ahmm....ok...I am out with a friend...ok......ok.........stop it............ok...pick me up tonight at 8. OK...ok...bye.”

“I need to go. I’ll meet him tonight. He’s sorry...and he’s crying.” She said.

As usual, I gave her an Ok-nod to make her aware I understand.

“So when will I, your surrogate boyfriend, see you again?” I asked her.

“Stop being sarcastic. We’ll see. Bye for now.”

She didn’t even tell me if she’ll go to the party or not.

End

[795 Words]

Copyright © 2009, Yffar Edlacer, All rights reserved

THE KING OF NOTHING TO DO: PUERTO GALERA PART 3 (no part 1 and 2...sorry)

I was wandering the National Bookstore in Glorieta trying to look for nonsensical books to read at home when I saw this book titled “The King of Nothing To Do” by Luis katigbak. Hey hey hey!!! That sounds more like me! I flipped the pages to get a glimpse of what’s inside and what the title is all about. Well the book contains the writer’s experiences about everything. He’s a writer and columnists of some big magazine and newspaper. I have been thinking about writing my own book someday. It was a dream I first shared with my good-friend-Efrel (April) from IBM. Oh well... I don’t know if that will ever happen.

I went to White Beach, Puerto Galera last week. It was my third time there but seemed like my first. I am physically and emotionally attached to that place. I don’t want to get into details, but I will surely keep going back to that place even in my old age. Something in that place makes me smile and reminds me of the happiest days in my life. Enough of the sad stuff on me. :-(

Why do Filipinos so friendly to Foreigners? It’s what I noticed not just in Puerto Galera but everywhere. The locals in Mindoro are so friendly to the non-Filipino looking tourist in White Beach, but couldn’t care less with the other not-so-rich-looking-Filipino-tourists like me. What the crock. Anyways, I do not need their attention. I like being alone. I hate it when vendors come my way while I’m in the middle of doing something, like eating, to ask me to buy whatever they’re selling. There was this old lady who sat right beside me flashing the braided necklace/bracelet she was selling right before my face. “3 for 20pesos, sir.” I politely told her I’m not interested but she didn’t seem to hear what I told her. Waaah...ok, I gave up. Told her a vendor selling the same item approached me earlier and was giving me 5 for 20pesos. The old lady said “Ok sir, I’ll give you 5 for 20pesos. Friendly price! (presyong kaibigan daw, harhar)” then she smiled. Oh well... so I bought 5. The old lady was kind of irritating in the beginning but turned out really friendly. That’s one of the few good things that happened to me in Galera.

Ok... going back to the Foreigners. There’s a lot of their kind in Puerto Galera. Whites, Blacks, Yellows(?)... they’re everywhere. To Filipinos, being polite and hospitable to people, especially to those from other countries, has been like a “fixed” part of our tradition. Like a light-amplification-by-stimulated-emission-of-radiation were pinned on our ancestors’ foreheads and forcefully beamed that “overfriendliness-to-foreigners” attitude. In the Philippines’ polite society, Filipinos tend to swallow indignation when they get into non-engagement encounters with anyone. “Pag pasensiyahan mo na lang yang putang-inang kano na yan.” “Hayaan mo na lang yun...mamamatay din yan.” These are not the usual words we say...but "Pasensya" and "Hayaan mo na lang" are what we usually hear and say in unpleasant situations with foreigners. Actually not just with foreigners, but even with fellow locals. We usually tend to settle things in diplomatic ways, unlike in the US where almost everyone is ready to raise hell over the slightest inconvenience in life. Well, to cut the story shorter: I got into a slight fury encounter with a big white old man. I worked for an American company for almost three years. The last one was a fucking-telecom-company in the US. Getting calls from customers with little refinement is what my job is. It wouldn’t be right if I say all calls that we get are like that. There are also customers who are really friendly, and are even friendlier when they learn that they’re speaking to someone not from the US. I love it when I get a really polite customer on the phone. But hell...is inevitable sometimes. It is one of the main reasons why I decided to quit my job. I just couldn’t take it anymore. Couple of times I hung up on boorish customers, removed my headset and left the customer talking on the line, and there was even a time when I told a very irate customer who needs payment arrangement but lacks good attitude and politeness - “That’s your problem and I ain’t giving you shit!” Of course I hung up on him. You see... working in a customer service is not easy. It takes a lot of patience, dedication, and oh well...patience.

Ok, back to the old white man. I was walking along the concrete embankment where the bars/stores/et cetera line toe-in-toe when I came across this big-white-old man. I don’t want to exaggerate things, but he almost blocked the entire walkway. “Always give way to ladies, kids, and old people in whatever situation” – that’s something I learned from my parents that I really practice. Ok...we met in a very narrow part of the concrete embankment, which happens to be the highest elevation from the sand also (I think). I squeezed myself to the clothes being sold at a shirt-store just beside us to make way to the white man. I held him by the wrist to make sure he won’t fall off the embankment – something that every good-hearted-and-polite-and-nice man will do to a very old-wrinkled-man. To my surprised, after he passed by, he looked back and gave me a not-so-nice-stare and half-shouted, “Do not touch me!” I was ill-equipped to defend myself all I managed to say was "Sorry, SIR." The old white man turned his back and I heard him say “stupid Asian monkey.” Gaddammaderpaker!!! Obviously I am not a monkey...but I know it was I he was referring to. He really got into my nerves with what he said. I looked back, and shouted, “I am not a monkey, and I’m not stupid! I’m a Filipino! Get your ethnicity right, ungrateful old bastard!” The white man was stunned. He didn’t expect that a brown-skinned-man would have the guts to talk to him in that manner. Listen: I am really nice especially to nice people. I’ve never gotten myself into fights when I was a kid, oh well...I did, but just petty fights due to petty reasons. I was really shy and very passive as a kid. While I grew up I learned that fighting back, but only when you are right, is a very essential skill that everyone should have to survive. That old man got the nerve to say such an insulting word to me in my own country. He probably believed he won’t be challenged like the customers I usually talked to when I was still with customer service. Customers are ALWAYS right. But I am also a tourist, not white, but I am a human...a local of the country he is visiting. I don’t know where the hell he got the nerve to call me stupid-Asian-monkey. I didn’t do anything wrong in the first place. In fact, I helped him. But the ungrateful old man was very rude so I was compelled to fight back.

“Never mind him, he deserve it” – said another old white man standing at my back, smiling. Oh well...”Sorry about that, he called me names, and I didn’t like it so I just fought back.” –trying to redeem my friendly side to the friendly other white man. “You need to cool down boy, are you with anyone? Take a dip in the water, haha...” We had a nice conversation during our short walk. I was just really walking around and it seemed he was too. We came near this bar and he offered me a drink. So I politely said sure. The old man was really friendly. I learned he was from Germany - and that explains why his English sounds that way. During the conversation he mentioned about his Filipina girlfriend he was with last week. He said she disappeared and left White beach without his knowledge. It was later that same day when he realized his phone and some cash were missing. (That bitch! That’s one thing that I really hate about these whores – they’re creating a bad impression to friendly outsiders like this man). Anyways – we had a really nice conversation. We talked things mainly about Germany and the Philippines. He asked me if I have been to Sabang. Told him no. He asked me if I want to go there for some fun. I wasn’t really in the mood to go somewhere else...I just wanted to drink and listen to the sound of the water hitting the shore. But he told me about the bars, and discos, and the .... mmmm...women in Sabang. Hmmm...women... it’s something that I have to consider. So I told him I’ll just go back to my room and get a shower.

So off we went to Sabang. So that’s how Sabang looks like. It is the place where bars/clubs/and women-for-cash are. The best place for partying, drinking, and meeting girls for...mmmm...sex. I learned that the German I was with frequents Sabang almost every other night. We had another drink in one of the bars...and before I knew it, a girl was already sitting on my lap comfortably. Oh well...I wouldn’t say no to it! The German paid everything. So after two glasses of vodka, we headed back to White Beach...with the two girls. The ugly lady went with him in his room, and the cute one went with me...and the rest is something that cannot be told here. (It really puzzles me why Foreign men like ugly Filipinas...oh well...sorry, I talk as if I am a very good looking man, LOL, who am I to judge who’s beautiful and who’s not, LOL!)

Well, all in all, it was a pretty nice experience in Galera. I am back in Manila now, and everything seems to be back to how it used to be. I am still sad. Fuck! X(