It's that time of year again... my birthday.

It's that time of year again, when I age a little more.
It's that time of year again, when I learn a snippet more.
It's that time of year again, when I mature a tad more.
It's that time of year again, when I appreciate a touch more.
It's that time of year again.

My birthday.

When I was younger, like any other child, I regarded birthdays as “the festival of the year”. I loved birthdays. It meant I could demand for presents from my parents. It meant cake and ice cream. It meant special treatment and my favourite food served for meals. I was a child and I was blissful.

Then I grew up.

Over the years, it seemed as though the value of my birthday, and birthdays in general, had diminished somewhat. I rarely received birthday presents from my friends as I progressed in high school, except for some gifts from a few best friends.

But on a lighter note ---- I guess to be fair --- God made my college days different as I received more gifts than I could ever wish for. I think I have developed some of the best friendships during that phase of my life. After I graduated from college and started working at People Support, I was fortunate enough to have been blessed with the opportunity to meet some wonderful souls --- people who made me feel special each year. My birthdays in People Support were awesome. My friends never fail to surprise me year after year after year.

But I’m not in People Support anymore. I am not in La Salle anymore. I don’t really expect much this year. I have prepared myself for the worst birthday ever. No presents, no cakes, no ice cream, no celebration. Don’t get me wrong though. I still expect to receive presents from my parents and brothers but only because they never missed to give me one every single year. I also have a handful of friends from outside the company whom I know will still surprise me with something unusual... those I look forward to. But other than that, I expected nothing else this year... not from the company I work for... not from my officemates.

If I was still the child I had been 15 years ago, I’d have thrown an emotional tantrum involving generous episodes of dramatic kicking and screaming and threats to jump out of the window. No birthday cake on such a glorious day? Blasphemy!

But I didn’t.

I realized it was because I simply stopped caring. There were a few consecutive years in the past, in which really horrible things happened on my birthday, or a few days before it. I spent my birthdays feeling miserable, wishing fervently that I had been blessed with a boring, ordinary day for my birthday instead. When you are put into situations which make you cry really badly all day, you actually don’t think about presents and celebrations. You’d give anything to be able to live a normal, routine day.

Which was exactly how I felt. It no longer mattered to me if nobody cared, if nobody remembered except my family and close friends. All I wanted was a normal, peaceful day and I’d be happy for another year.

No birthday cake? Not a problem, I’d just buy myself a slice of cake and eat it. No greetings? Well, who cares, they’re all busy people anyway, and it’s no different than wishing someone “good morning” every morning, except people only wish you “happy birthday” once a year.

My birthday was just a date to me, nothing more than a mechanical reminder that I had passed another milestone in life.

I was fine, and I was genuinely happy. I didn’t need anyone to remember, which was why I always tried to conceal my date of birth whenever anyone asked. I didn’t want people to make a fuss; I didn’t want them to go through any trouble just for me.

Today, Reich, Royce, Chester, Kei, Harlie, Reg, Tatty, LJ, Mac, AC, Pedz, Stlz, Bash, Wendell, Tyrone, Rowell, Mae, Pao, Russell, Vok, my whole Care Family, the entire Care FSS and the rest of my friends in management and support staff surprised me with a birthday cake when we were having dinner at the 31st floor pantry of PBCOM. Chester and I were singing “Just Once” --- part of the Customer Service week celebration --- when all of them showed up with a cake.

I stared at it for a while and the first thing I said was “Chester’s birthday?”

It was obviously not one of my more brilliant moments.

For the strangest reason I thought the cake was for my friend Chester who celebrated his birthday 6 days ago.

They all looked as though I had snorted green tea out of my nose.

“YOUR CAKE!”

Oh my. I honestly did not expect that. At that very moment I was looking at the most beautiful cake in the world, because it was a thoughtful gesture of sincerity and kindness in the spirit of friendship.

I have always suspected that I’ve grown up too quickly for my age, but today, when you guys went out of your way to get me a cake, when you had to relight the candle 10 thousand times because the air-conditioning kept on putting the flame out, when you guys took one million photos of me looking absolutely retarded, when you guys dictated how I should make my wish, when you made me remove the candle from the cake using my mouth, when we camwhored, when Chester had to slice the cake for me because I was such a noob at cutting cakes, when we shared the cake and laughed, when we had fun, I became a child again.

I was once again the child who loved and glorified birthdays. I was once again the little boy who squealed at the sight of cake. I was once again the kid who enjoyed birthdays.

Thank you for making my birthday meaningful again.

I love you guys.

Boulevard of Broken Dreams

Dreams.

Dreams are what people live for. Dreams are what people die for. Without dreams our existence would be but a meaningless joke played on us by indifferent powers.

Each day we conceive a multitude of dreams. Most of them we forget shortly after, others we discard as not possible on this world, but there are those precious few that we keep in our mind and mull over in hope of fulfilling them one day.

These dreams we bottle up and store away for the time being when their fulfilling will be possible. Much like wine, we put them with great care in the darkest corners of our souls, so that they won't disturb our every-day life, and sometimes forget about them --- to find them again at unexpected moments of life.

Why do we do that --- why not fulfilling them right away?

Who knows --- human beings are peculiar creatures. Maybe we are afraid to fail and get hurt. Maybe we are afraid that the fragile fabric of the dream will shatter on the cold face of reality. Or perhaps we believe that now is not the right moment and decide to wait for a more favorable time.

But storing dreams is a risky practice. Many times when we deem the moment appropriate, we dig the dream-bottle up, open it --- sometimes to share with others, sometimes to enjoy on our own --– and wait for a genie to come out and make the dream real, only to find out that the dream-wine has turned sour and is no longer fit for use, or that the bottle has been cracked and the dream has faded. At other times we shatter the bottle in our hurry, eagerness and inexperience and watch the precious substance spill and vaporize through our fingers, while we desperately try to cling to some of it.

And yet there are times when we manage to open the bottle and we offer to share the contents with another but find that this person prefers not to drink, or we find out that the dream has lost its appeal and is not what we thought of it at all --- after all, it has been a long while since we have seen the insides of that bottle.

At time like these, all you left to do is to realize that this dream is gone and a chapter of your life symbolized by that dream is closed. Life is constantly changing, eternally fluid and never stops in its tracks – and you have to adapt to its currents or be dragged underwater and fade away like smoke in strong wind. Find another dream, any dream, pursue it with fervor and do not let the momentary downfall put you on hold.

Dear friends of mine, I wish you to have no such moments of bitter realization –-- and if you cannot avoid it, may they be as few as possible and fleeting as such. Even in the darkest hour, remember that there are always those who are ready to aid you, if only you were to ask for their help.

Know that everything is for the best, after all, and shattered dreams may transform from mere illusions into something stronger and beneficial --- or give birth to altogether new things.

May each change prove easy on you.

Set Yourself Free

Like a confused lost seagull out at sea
I wander through the streets
Like huge mazes of what makes up my life

Just as I think I have found my way
I am faced with yet another turn
Sometimes a dead end and I have to retrace my steps

It is the time to clean my thoughts of what I think is real
Look at life from a high and carried by the wind
Allowing me the freedom to fly

Set yourself free from anything that might hinder you in becoming the person you want to be. Free yourself from the uncertainties about your abilities or the worth of your dreams, from the fears that you may not be able to achieve them or that they won't be what you wanted.

Set yourself free from the past. The good things from yesterday are still yours in memory; the things you want to forget you will, for tomorrow is only a sunrise away. Free yourself from regret or guilt, and promise to live this day as fully as you can.

Set yourself free from the expectations of others, and never feel guilty or embarrassed if you do not live up to their standards. You are most important to yourself; live by what you feel is best and right for you. Others will come to respect your integrity and honesty.

Set yourself free to simply be yourself, and you will soar higher than you've ever dreamed.

Bakit ako nagsusulat?

At a very early age, perhaps the age of five or six, I knew that when I grew up I should be a writer. Between the ages of about seventeen and twenty, I tried to abandon this idea, but I did so with the consciousness that I was outraging my true nature.

You see, I’ve never considered myself much of a writer. I’m not particularly great at it. On my better day, I will be passable. On my best, I don’t have half the talent of many people I’ve been lucky enough to work with. And this is not false humility.

But why do I write you might ask...

I write because I see these images in my head that I don’t want to forget, because I hear words that need to be in ink. I have to get these things down because it’s torture if I don’t, and lost to oblivion if I’m unlucky and without a pen.

I write because nothing satisfies me most than turning my words into ideas and then sharing my complete work to people for their enjoyment and criticism.

I write because I’m not very good at speaking. (Isn’t this the very logic of writing?)

I write because it gets me to avoid things I loathe like cleaning my room or cleaning my room or cleaning my room.

I do it because after a page or two of writing my heart out, I feel like I’ve lost pounds.

I write because I know this is the best gift I have to give.

The reason that no matter what I have done in life, writing has always been a constant is that there is power in words for everyone. Be it making us laugh, reflect, angry or just making us think. And for me there is nothing more exhilarating or rewarding as seeing someone’s eyes light up as they read my words or I imagine them being played out.

I can only imagine what it must be like to write something an entire nation (and beyond) tunes in for each week, to see your written words personified. I will continue to be envious of all of you who are lucky enough to write for a living and I will continue to write myself, even if what I write never leaves the confines of my computer, because it is still so much a part of me.

I watch television and movies because I know a writer has written all that I am watching, and for that, all you writers out there have my utmost respect and full support. Thank you for all that you have written and for all that you have yet to write.

When I think about my life now, I thank the person, who once said,

“What do you do when your life exceeds your dreams?”

“Keep it to yourself.”

I guess that’s the other reason I write. One day, if I’m lucky enough, I hope to write a line half that good.


Thank you for reading this and for giving me a reason to write why I write.

Scared Shitless

Curled up like a child in a woman’s womb, I stayed in this position. My mind was raging; thoughts intersecting by one another in rapid speed.

I was scared shitless.

I couldn’t tell the difference between possibility and the inevitable. It felt like my brain was turning into a Rubik cube and it was taking forever for me to match all the colors.

Was someone going to break in through the window? Should I lock the door so no one could go in? Were there ghosts hanging from the ceiling, watching me as I try to sleep?

I wanted to ram my head into the wall and just pound it until it bled out all the thoughts in my mind. I was so consumed by negativity, I just wanted to get a gun and blow my brains out.

Sleep, when are you going to take me?

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten; I’m counting, desperately trying to put myself in this fairy tale trance.

Fantasies of reality

We all grow up in our small fantasy worlds where we are kings, princesses, and/or superheroes. It gives us the chance to escape our realities and, in essence, live who we want ourselves to be.

Each of us does this even if we don't realize it. We don't recognize that we do it even if we're not sleeping. The borders between the waking world and our dreamscapes are so thin that each microcosm overlaps with one another.

Some of us dream we could be something we are not. Some of us dream that our wrongs could be made right if we do a little bit of good. Some of us dream we could change the world.

Our dreams can help drive us to where we want to go. They act as burning fuel to push us to get off our butts and work towards what we truly want.

Sometimes, however, we should let go of our fantasies especially those that we cling to... those that keep us from maturing... and from truly living in reality. We should still pull away from our comfortable perch surrounded by clouds and look at what we're stepping on... shitty as though it may seem.

We should never forget ourselves...

We should never forget reality.

We live in two worlds. We don't live in just one.

Kung nasa iyo na ang lahat... anong meron ka?

When a man has everything, what is everything worth? Nothing. Everything loses meaning when one can't afford to dream.

Like wanderers that chart all frontiers conquered, where else can one go if all areas have already been mapped?

This leaves us with the choice to remain satisfied with what we have --- at least for now. Think of your current situation as just a passing phase.

Dream --- and reach for what you want.

The wait, the delay in gratification, will make the rewards sweeter. And victory will mean more than a dusty trophy on your living room shelf.

Postponement of Blessing

What is postponement of blessing for you ?

Isn't it that it is the thing you hoped for, the very thing you prayed for every single waking hour that you have?

To some it is a child, to the single, it can be to hear a wedding proposal, to a jobless person the words " you're hired!", or to a parent whose child has wondered off, it is to have him back and hug him... To you what is your postponement of blessing?

Postponement of Blessing simply means that God is delaying what you really really want.

Why?

Maybe He wants you to learn other stuff before He gives you your ultimate dream. Maybe what you are praying for, for the time being is not really what you need and He may have something better for you.

However the long streches of waiting can weary the soul, the feeling of failure can creep in. But what we may feel as failure may only be a postponement of blessing. He may want us to explore other ideas, new horizon or out of the box thoughts before giving us our ultimate reward in life.

On the other hand , it doesn't mean that we need to wait for that blessing to fall from our laps. Maybe we need to work it out more in order to gain it or achieve the position we are vying for.

The art of waiting can be agonizing if you look at it that way, but the brighter side of that, we are made to wait for a greater purpose.

Email and Microsoft

A jobless man applied for the position of "office boy" at Microsoft. The HR manager interviewed him then watched him cleaning the floor as a test.

"You are employed" he said. "Give me your e-mail address and I'll send you the application to fill in, as well as date when you may start.

The man replied "But I don't have a computer, neither an email".

"I'm sorry", said the HR manager. If you don't have an email, that means you do not exist. And who doesn't exist, cannot have the job."

The man left with no hope at all. He didn't know what to do, with only $10 in his pocket. He then decided to go to the supermarket and buy a 10Kg tomato crate. He then sold the tomatoes in a door to door round. In less than two hours, he succeeded to double his capital. He repeated the operation three times, and returned home with $60.

The man realized that he can survive by this way, and started to go everyday earlier, and return late. Thus, his money doubled or tripled every day. Shortly, he bought a cart, then a truck, and then he had his own fleet of delivery vehicles.

5 years later, the man is one of the biggest food retailers in the US. He started to plan his family's future, and decided to have a life insurance. He called an insurance broker, and chose a protection plan. When the conversation was concluded the broker asked him his email.

The man replied, "I don't have an email."

The broker answered curiously, "You don't have an email, and yet have succeeded to build an empire. Can you imagine what you could have been if you had an e mail?!!"

The man thought for a while and replied, "Yes, I'd be an office boy at Microsoft!"

I'm Not Average

Remember prison ball and jumping jacks and how your P.E. teacher made you try to climb that rope that hung from the ceiling and you never could, never?

Or how you had to do chin-ups and see how long you could hang and you could only hang something like 2.5 seconds but that wasn't good enough, oh no, you had to hang something like 65 seconds and you could never do that and thank God it was only pass/no pass and you got a pass just for showing up and trying. Which was good.

But when you got older. And P.E. teachers got smarter. Because now you got graded.
You got graded and at least once you got the dreaded C or the equally dreaded C+ and there went your whole grade-point average and speaking of average that's what you were now: plain-old-just-mediocre-better-luck-next-time-see-ya-later-average and you thought:

Now wait just a gosh darn minute who, exactly, is average?

And the answer came back ringing loud and clear over the top of that chin-up bar: Nobody.

You're not average because average is a lie. You're not average because average means stuck and you're not stuck, you're moving and becoming and trying and you're climbing over every bit of fear or opinion or "no you can't do that" you've ever heard.

So you scoff at average.

You laugh. You guffaw. And you run and you play and you move and the more you tell your body that it is a well-oiled machine the more it starts to believe you.

And then one night you have the craziest dream.

You're in the middle of your old gym. Your P.E. teacher is standing there. She is grinning. There is a rope before you...

So you climb it.

And there is absolutely no place to go but up.

Once In a While

So often life is every bit as good, if not better, than the wonderful make-believe movies we love to watch.

It has all the same joy and sorrow, mystery and suspense, adventure and excitement, and love and emotion --- except it's real.

Live your life as if it were a great movie --- complete with a happy ending.

…Because once in a while, right in the middle of an ordinary life...

Love gives us a fairy tale.

Only That Moon

Sometimes I feel like there is a hole inside me... An emptiness that, at times, seems to burn. I think if you lifted my heart to your ear, you could probably hear the ocean.

And the moon in Makati tonight: there's a circle around it --- a sign of trouble not far behind.

I have this dream of being whole... Of not going to sleep each night wanting, but still sometimes, when the wind is warm or the crickets sing, I dream of a love that even time will lie down and be still for.

I just want someone to love me.

I want to be seen.

I don't know...

Maybe I've had my happiness. I don't want to believe it, but there is no man...

Only that moon.

Why I drink Beer

Sometimes when I reflect back on all the beer I drink I feel ashamed.

Then I look into the glass and think about the workers in the brewery and all of their hopes and dreams. If I didn't drink this beer, they might be out of work and their dreams would be shattered.

Then I say to myself, it is better that I drink this beer and let their dreams come true than be selfish and worry about my liver.

On Hamsters and on Wheels

Have you stopped to watch a hamster running on a wheel? Have you found yourself thinking what’s going on in that tiny head of his?

Where is he going? Why is he running? Why does he not just get off and stop… to see… his glass prison.

I think I answered my own question.

We all run on our "wheels" to have that sense of direction, of movement.

Maybe, just maybe, I could pick up my mask and wear it again. I could take out my rose-tinted glasses and pretend with all the other hamsters that I’m headed somewhere.

Headed to greener pastures?

Maybe.

It’s time to slow down, to stop thinking and just be. I have to let it all go. I need to let my life flow and unravel.

I need to just be.

Is life a big “choose your own adventure” book? Turn to page 65 to either meet your doom or stumble upon another dilemma.

I think so.

It’s all laid out.

Every word and every letter, all written in ink, printed for you to read. Everything is just waiting to be uncovered.

The book is just waiting for you to decide and to turn the page.

The Day I was Reprimanded

I went home to Cavite last weekend as I always do to spend my rest days there. Ever since I broke up with my boyfriend, it seemed logical to be with my family during my rest days than to hang out in my apartment here in Makati alone.

While in the process of sorting my old college stuff, I saw the letter I wrote some 4 years ago addressed to our College Guidance Councilor. It was in response to her letter accusing me of being a “rude” student.

I admit that our guidance councilor and I have a rift that can be traced back when I won the Supreme Student Council elections beating the candidate from the college of nursing. For some strange reason, our guidance councilor seemed to favor her more over me. She even tried to talk to the representatives of the college of health and sciences (Radiologic Technology, Nursing, Physical Therapy and Medicine) and deliberately campaigned for her to ensure victory.

Although I do not have anything against the candidate from nursing, I felt it was very wrong for our guidance councilor to try to manipulate the results of the student body elections. As for me, it doesn’t really matter if I lose or win the elections.

If I win, that’s another accomplishment on my resume but if I lose, that will make my mom happy (she doesn’t want me to take any more responsibilities), give me all the time I need to focus on my studies and make life easier for me --- saving me from the numerous meetings and conferences that I have to attend to.

But in the end, the students have spoken… To my surprise, I won the elections. It was a landslide victory.

Weeks later, our guidance councilor conducted a survey in our class as a requirement to all graduating students. The following day I received a letter from her accusing me of being a rude student. Yes. She used the word “RUDE”. Her letter states that I need to send a response within 24 to 48 hours and if I fail to do so, I will be given a disciplinary action that would appear on my records forever and take me out of list of students running for cum laude.

I went home, talked to my parents about what happened, opened my computer and began typing this letter:


August 19, 2002
Office of the Guidance Councilor
De La Salle University Health and Sciences Campus


Dear Madam:

I was shocked upon receiving a letter handed to me by your secretary last Friday morning, August 17, 2002, regarding my “rude” behavior in class. I was shocked because this is the very first time I had been reprimanded for my behavior. I have always been commended, not rebuked; rewarded, not punished.

More so, I was shocked because I am not “rude” madam.

As a consolation to this “rude” student, you wrote a letter addressed to our beloved College Dean without even discussing the issue with me personally. I felt so disappointed by the sudden turn out of events. I studied at De La Salle University hoping that the school has a system in dealing with things concerning their students. But in this case, it seemed like you have forgotten to follow the step-by-step procedure.

Although it would have been better to personally talk to me and call my attention, which I would be more than willing to comply with, rather than sending a letter to the Dean, here is my letter in response to your request.

Before anything else, I would like to make a few clarifications:

First, it was not my intention to insult anybody, especially you, our well-respected guidance councilor. My behavior was an honest to goodness expression of what I was feeling that day. Prior to the survey conducted in our class, we were having a practice of our jingle which was to be presented Friday afternoon of the same week. We were having some problems with the said presentation but nevertheless; I was in a very good mood that day. I don’t remember ever being rude. My behavior was not even close to being rude. I was at all times, able to keep my moral and values. I was brought up by my parents to respect the elders whatever the situation be.

Second, I don’t have to consult good old Mr. Webster to clearly understand the word “rude”. My classmates can and are willing to attest that I did not, in any way, showed disrespect to you madam. My actions were not impolite, savage or uncivilized as what you allegedly claim them to be. My friends, teachers, and family are more than willing to prove that I am not a rude student should this issue reach the dean.

Third, I don’t think I need to have a refresher course on etiquette and good morals because as far as my memory serves me right, I have behaved and handled myself well last Thursday. I don’t remember ever answering back or texting while you were in front of the class. I don’t remember ever standing or shouting or commenting impolitely to what you were saying. Most of all, I don’t remember ever making a face that could have insulted you in any way. I sat quietly in my chair, listened to you and followed everything that you asked us to do.

Lastly, no one should dare accuse me that I had forgotten all the things that I have learned in the last concluded leadership seminar in Batulao, Batangas because what I’ve learned during the 2-day seminar will always be close to my heart. Whatever happened last Thursday is not sufficient basis to say that I had thrown away all the wonderful realizations that that seminar brought to my life.

Throughout my four-year stay in De La Salle University Health and Sciences Campus, I have committed myself to the promotion of academic excellence and excellence in terms of service, values and moral in the University. I have placed a very high premium on trumpeting DLSU’s achievements if only to instill a deep sense of pride among my fellow La Sallians. I accepted the position as Treasurer and Executive Chairman for Internal and External affairs of the Supreme Student Council with the hope that I could somehow act as a safeguard to the student’s resources. I have devoted my time in writing articles that would help uplift the mental, emotional and spiritual awareness of PT students. Thus, no one should dare accuse me of being rude to any member of this institution.

Meanwhile, if you wish to clarify matters with me, I am most willing to accommodate your inquiries.

Bless you madam.

With all due respect,

Marvin Voltaire Garcia
CPT-SC Treasurer
President, PT Chorale
Editor-in-chief, PT Progress Notes
Treasurer and Executive Chairman DLSU-HSC Supreme Student Council


2 days later, she pulled me out of my class for a one on one interview. She apologized to me and said a lot of things. I can’t remember them anymore because honestly I wasn’t listening to her. After an hour or so of her continuous boring unending explanation, she asked me this question, “Is there anything you would like to tell me before I let you go back to your class?”

I was silent for a moment, looked her in the eye and said, “Yes. In fact I do. I am not certain if I will be graduating as a cum laude this school year… we are just half way the semester and anything can pretty much happen. However, what I am certain of is that I am not graduating as a rude student from this institution and that no one, not even you can ever ruin what I have worked so very hard for all these years. So if you want to raise hell with me, you better be ready, because I am. That’s all.”

Our guidance councilor dropped the charges against me. She did not apologize to me but she also did not finish the school year. After the first semester, she filed her resignation. I never heard anything from her since then.

I will never compromise myself to anyone... at the end of the day, "I'm" all I've got.

Oh and by the way, I graduated cum laude. =)

RAINBOWS

As kids we are taught that a rainbow has seven colors. But as we grow older, we realize that there are other shades, hues and subtleties that are not taught to us.

Now, they remain unnamed.

But as we grow older, the more colors we see in a rainbow.

As we go on with life, we realize that scholars’ teachings are, in most cases, far from what reality has to say.

Like a rainbow, life is full of complexities.

Life is full of variations.

And the further and deeper we go through it, the more colors we see.

I pray that we find understanding when we are faced with division, and may we be dominated by equality when we discover difference.

This blog is a tribute to unity in diversity, dignity and a celebration of life.

For a moment, I seriously thought about discontinuing this blog for some obvious reasons. First, people are not reading them anyway. Second, I don’t think it’s serving its purpose. I only make people sad, which is far from what I envisioned my posts to be. Lastly, I always receive nasty comments from anonymous judgmental people.

But then again, I always remember what my mother tells me when I was still a kid. She would hold me in her arms and would tell me this: “Remember this, you have got to believe in yourself. Ignore those who try to discourage you. Don’t give up and don’t give in. Dare to speak your mind. Dare to make a difference. Dare to love… Because in the end it will be okay, and if it’s not okay, it’s not the end”

And she would tuck me to bed and kiss me good night. My mom tells me this every single night from kindergarten to fourth grade to junior high. I grew up living those words… well, sometimes…

If only for my mom, I would have long stopped writing. I would have long given up on my dream as a writer.

But just like the rainbow, which symbolizes hope in the bible, I will always be here…

After the rain…

After the storm…

I will be here… and no one’s stopping me.

Not you… yes, you.

Not even you.

I write to express not to impress.

One day you’ll get it

There's this image I keep coming back to...

I'm ten-years-old. My mom and dad took me to see “Terminator 2: Judgement Day”. There I was, fourth row center, flanked by my parents.

And in walks this guy with another guy. Probably our age now. They plop down right in front of me... and proceed to make-out for the entire movie.

I couldn't believe it.

I couldn't believe that anyone would rather kiss than watch this action, sci-fi, thriller unfold on the screen.

At one point, I tapped the guy on the shoulder and he looked back at me, like, "One day you'll get it kid."

Here it is all these years later, and I’m not that guy who goes to the movies and makes out in the balcony, and I’m not that kid who sat between his parents...

I'm this third person who’s too busy analyzing everything to actually sit back and enjoy the show.

I mean those other two guys, at least they’re having fun.

I'm not anymore...

Wonder Years

I was alone having coffee in my favorite restaurant one lazy Saturday afternoon, and I couldn't help overhearing two kids taking turns asking each other what they want to be when they grow up. Like all the other kids I asked this question to, one wants to be a doctor because he would like to help the sick, the other one wants to be a pilot someday. Their conversation was really funny in a serious kind of way or serious in a funny kind of way, but that's how kids have always been -- spontaneous, adventurous and they all have big dreams for the future.

So right at that moment, I thought to myself, when I was a kid, what did I wanted to be when I grow up?

It took some time for me to remember that at one point in my young life, I wanted to be a lawyer. I had a relative who was a lawyer and when my mom and I visit him in his office, he was always dressed up and he looked really stylish and neat. So I thought I wanted to be just like him someday (not to marry him okay. My sexual preferences and orientation were still pretty much intact when I was a kid).

I have an aunt who was a pre-school teacher for so many years. So there was a short period in my life that I wanted to be like her, I thought all she did is play with the kids. But then, she always had to work till late in the evening checking papers and preparing exams. So that didn't last either.

I also wanted to be pilot because I've always wanted to see the world. While other kids wanted to be a doctor or an engineer, I wanted to be a nurse so I can take care of my parents and grandparents (without having to spend so many years in school).

I forgot all the other dreams I had, but I am sure of something, it was a lot. And looking back, I realized that I didn't get to be anything that I dreamed myself to be. I took up my course (Bachelor of Science in Physical Therapy, De La Salle University Health Sciences Campus) in college because, it was, as I was told, the most "in demand" field at that time and not because that was where my heart was. I've grown to love it though but mainly because I had to, I thought of shifting to another course but I got scared of change. I graduated cum laude and topped my board exams.

But there are days when I'm curious about what my life would have been like if I pursued even one of my childhood dreams.

Maybe, just maybe, I'd be happier. Maybe, I'd have more energy to do what I have to accomplish for more than 8 hours of my life each day. Maybe, I'd feel more fulfilled.

Maybe…

But I realized that I had a choice and I decided to choose the choices I made. It may not be the best, but I learned to accept things as they come and be thankful for whatever I have. Sure, I made mistakes. And yes, I made the wrong decisions. But no matter how big or how little those mistakes were, I learned a lot from each one of them. And it made me the kind of person that I am now.

I may not be as successful as what I envisioned myself to be, or I may not be as rich, or not at all famous. But I'm proud of the fact that I'm making the most out of my life and with what I have. And I'm quite happy with how my life turned out.

Everyday, we face a lot of choices. We answer a lot of questions. Where to eat, what to wear, what road to take, whether to stay or to go, whether to take the promotion or to move on to other things. It's hard to take the "other" route when you're comfortable wherever it is that you are. But there are decisions in life worth doing just for the heck of it --- to grow and to continue to be challenged. Because after all, that's what living is about.

Come to think of it, I didn't become a nurse, but I took care of my grandparents when they got sick a few years back. I didn't become a pilot, but I had the chance to see other places and countries. I didn't become a teacher, but I know that you don't necessarily have to be one to teach people what you know about life…

So that only leaves being a lawyer…

Well, three out of four ain't that bad, right?

It Takes Balls

I really don't want to wax philosophic, but I will say that if you're alive:

you've got to flap your arms and legs…

you've got to jump around a lot…

you've got to make a lot of noise…

Because life is the very opposite of death. And therefore, as I see it, if you're quiet, you're not living.

You've got to be noisy…

or at least your thoughts should be noisy and colorful and lively…

Chanelling Darkness

Darkness.

Only darkness. A darkness of pain, loneliness, and hopelessness.

I just finished reading a gay and lesbian oriented book yesterday. Very well written. Very poignant. Very upsetting. All too comparable to my own life. I need to write a paper on this book, but I couldn't do it tonight. I was too disturbed.

Then I read story updates on the gay romances I follow on the net. Most of the chapters to various stories were happy, uncomplicated episodes, but reading about gay couples happily enjoying a long-term companionship makes me sad.

I don't begrudge them their happiness - in my own way, I am happy for them - but every happy gay couple I see or hear about is simply a painful reminder of how alone I am and have so often been.

Reading these various chapters after finishing that book has left me very down.

Very alone...

Do you realize that this has nothing to do with sex? Can you understand that? I just need someone to hold and to hold me. I need someone that really wants to know my troubles and help me overcome them. I need someone that I can trust. Someone who won't laugh at me or belittle my fears and pains. Someone who won't hurt me, and someone who won't leave me.

I would give everything for someone like that...

All that I am, all I own, all my dreams, all my love, all my trust, all my mind, my body, my soul, my life - all that they might ever desire or need or hope for; no need would be too much; no risk would be too great; no price would be too high to pay.

But none of that matters.

No one will ever know.

No one cares.

All of my love lies with me in darkness.