To Amay, a dear friend

There will always be a part of you that misses her. You'll see something that reminds you of her and want to tell her about it, only to realize she's not there anymore. Then you'll feel her loss all over again.

~ Sherrilyn Kenyon, Dark Side of the Moon

I know you are in a better place
But I miss looking at your face
You were so young to die
Every night I sit and cry
Wondering why does it have to be this way
It hurts so much because there’s nothing I can do or say
That can make you come back to me
There is one thing that’s plain to see
That one day we will be together again
And now until then you will always remain my best friend.

@Tsambika Angelidakis

Walled In

I received a text message from a see-you-once-in-a-blue-moon friend, a lawyer actually, telling me he was angry with me because of a comment I put on his status at Facebook. I could not remember though because I might have posted it long time ago. So I ask.

He told me my response was full of negativity and that I always pick on him. He was offended when I replied on his status that said he was stuck in a hotel room with only his laptop as company while waiting for his flight home.

I could not understand why my response was negative when it said- Don't be pathetic, Atty. There is so much to see and do outside. Go out!

I stared at my mobile phone like I was waiting for it to burst into flames.

Meanwhile Paramore sang Misguided Ghosts in the background-

I am going away for a while
But I'll be back, don't try and follow me
'Cause I'll return as soon as possible
See I'm trying to find my place
But it might not be here where I feel safe
We all learn to make mistakes

And run
From them, from them
With no direction
We'll run from them, from them
With no conviction...

Friendships and bullshits

Today is Black Saturday.

The day I cut off my links with some special friends at Facebook because of a mistake I commit. That mistake of knowing them personally.

We were having a small reunion recently when one of them posted our pictures in his albums at Facebook. Elated and overjoyed with the memories we shared just a few days ago, I tagged them and myself in the pictures despite the fact that we have our own copies.

I don’t see the problem with that.

But a mutual friend (outside of the circle) who seemed too concerned with identities pointed out that I am tagging my friends and they may not like it. Still I am blind with identities. You see, we have been together for five years now and knowing their real identities would not pose a problem since I am not alone on that field. My friends know them by nick. They went out with some of them. And the pics I tagged was birthday party for Christ's sake!

But today I received messages from my friends through my mobile asking me to un-tag them. They were furious. Why did I do that, they bombarded me. They have families to protect.

I am furious too. And shocked. They have been in my friends list for quiet a time and they have been posting our pictures as a group and yet there were no questions of identity. We have common friends, some of them we abhor, but posting pictures was not a problem. Not until now when I tagged them.

They have families to protect, they repeat. Their identities. They need privacy.

That made me cringed. That families-thing. I, the culprit, looked like I suddenly become an orphan with no roots of my own and living alone and unknown in this part of the city. I am devastated. And angry.

I looked outside and thanked the rain. This is a sign. Maybe I need to nurture friendships that truly care. Those friendships where you are allowed to be free and be what you are and not hide in a cloak full of restraint like you were doing something bad instead. Just like the rain that started to water the parched surroundings of Cebu. Nurturing.

Life is a drama and this my moment.

Awit ng Barkada

Nakasimangot ka na lang palagi
Parang ikaw lang ang nagmamay-ari
Ng lahat ng sama ng loob
Pagmumukha mo ay hindi maipinta
Nakalimutan mo na bang tumawa
Eh, sumasayad na ang nguso mo sa lupa

Kahit sino pa man ang may kagagawan
Ng iyong pagkabigo
Ay isipin na lang na ang buhay
Kung minsan ay nagbibiro
Nandirito kami, ang barkada mong tunay
Aawit sa iyo
Sa lungkot at ligaya, hirap at ginhawa
Kami'y kasama mo
O ikaw naman

Kung sa pag-ibig may pinagawayan
Kung salapi ay huwag nang pag-usapan
Tayo'y 'di nagbibilangan
Kung ang problema mo'y magkatambakan
ang mga utang 'di mo na mabayaran
Lahat ng bagay ay nadadaan sa usapan

Kami kasama mo.


(Words and music by Apo Hiking Society)

How do you measure worth it?

I am still having the headache attacks when he told me we will have a massage. Despite having a limited budget, I agree. I so like to have my body and its aches here and there be soothe.

But we both agree the massage at Grand Royal Spa in Lahug was not a good one. And he is disgusted with the masseur making advances to him. I laugh.

We proceed to the nearby IT Park because he want me to taste an Indonesian food called nasi goreng. I hope it is not nasty, I said. He did not understand the word. I did not notice my grumbling stomach.

We silently eat at Makan with the nasi goreng. My first. He said this is not the nasi goreng he expected but it is passable. I love it. Despite the loud music and the humidity of the place. I am perspiring.

Where do we go now, he ask after my burp. I don't know. Your place? Okay.

I can see his amusement when we arrive home. So you have a new look in your place? What do you mean, I asked. This and this, he pointed out the things and the wall I have repainted. I laugh again. I think we buy an aircon, the portable one. Hayyy, this gentleman who can't live without an airconditioner.

We talk nonsense. We talk about Mafia Wars. We talk about my Farm Town. Talk and talk. He was laughing all throughout. Can you let me borrow your plane? Sure. With my own plane, I can fly for 8 hours a day and I will be glad. I am glad he is no longer angry. Just a few hours before he was furious with his instructor.

Noting that the hours have come and gone, he says he will leave now. Okay and thanks so much for the massage and the nasi goreng. He hug me goodbye and told me I am his bestfriend. I hug him back.

Life is good.

Lost and Found

I received a long call from an old friend. For five years I never heard anything from him. No mails. No updates. Suddenly he called up checking if I am still using my number.

Times and attitudes have changed. He has become more of a braggart. I mean he bragged a lot when he was here in the Philippines. And has become worst. He told me he didn't like it here in the Philippines because this country is just like what it is called- a third world country. He nags about undisciplined people and the poor people populating everyday. He said he would only visit here because his parents are still here.

He told me of things of grandeur of which the ordinary Pinoy could not have. I told him I have no work. What the fuck! You are an old bum? Go to hell and be dead! But I was not hurt. We were laughing so hard I could no longer hear him on the other line.

You know what? There's a burger joint down there and the line is almost three blocks long. He told me of an American associate telling him a weird incident. What burger joint? he asked. In the middle of deep winter, lots of Filipinos with kids lined up and it's called Jollibee. Do you have Jollibee in Singapore? Why no we don't allow that crap in Singapore, he replied. The American was dumbfounded.

My friend never told anyone else that he is (or was?) a Filipino. What Filipino? Fuck! I am Singaporean.

That's my friend. He could be mean to the highest level. He is the worst person you can ever imagine. BUT I have learned to love him worst and all.

I had fun talking to him, once again.

Desperately seeking Ary

Ary is an Indonesian friend I met way way back in Kuala Lumpur. I haven't heard from him since then. This March I was kind of shocked when he messaged me through YM telling me he is in Cebu. What the hell this Indonesian is doing in Cebu? I was thinking he is on vacation. Sort of, he kept me guessing.

He wanted me to see him because he is desperate. By desperation I thought he was using a new-found word. Indonesians are like our Asian neighbors who have difficulty with the English language. You mean you are sad, I told him. No, I'm sad in a way, he insisted. I should see him.

When finally we had the chance of meeting, I see a different Ary for Ary has become a grown up man. Still has that boyish smile though and the pranks he used to do. He loves making faces.

His desperation? He could not find halal Indonesian food here in Cebu. I forgot Ary is a practicing Muslim and Indonesians love their food spicy and hot! And he is literally starving because of that lack. He cooks his own food according to him but could not find some ingredients here. His schedules also could not accommodate cooking his food every time. Being new to the place and with a language barrier like that, I understand his hopelessness. He is just a boy. And just like his friends, he is afraid to go out and explore Cebu.

I asked my friends if they knew some Indo restos in Cebu. All they could think is Shangrila. And Ayala. Ary is not quite convinced! He tried eating in Bananaleaf in Ayala and he told me aside from the fact that the food is not authentic, the prices there are horrendous. 

Now that's real desperation. And I have no means to help.

Adding to that is the search for mosques in which he could come and visit. Nobody could point them. I could not either. Ary, culture-shocked, was expecting a mall-wide sized mosque in the country. Now I made that up hehehe. All he wanted is a mosque.

I told him to gather all his worries and fears and have them transported to Jakarta when he goes back. He said is very sad. He said sad like SAT but linking sadness and desperation, maybe all he needs is sat. To sit and think and decide.

Then he called me up again. He is very happy now. How come? I used his favorite word when he could not understand what I'm talking. Because I have tickets for Jakarta and leaving tonight, he told me. Whaattt? Already? Yeah. I'm going home.

I'm happy for him. Maybe he really needs a break. I will miss you boy.

(Ary is a former cabin staff who is now on upgrade training for pilots in Mactan, Cebu. He loves eating buko.)

To All the Women of My Life

On Sunday, March 8, the world celebrates International Women's Day. 

In honor of the women of my life who have been so supportive to me, never asked me to change the way I should become and never left me despite of the way I am behaving, I am giving them a special day. And a special love no other woman should deserve to be loved. 

I love you guys and thank you for being with me all the time.

• My mother- despite a painful past we had, still she is never remiss with her love.
  
• My sisters- they all love me. Special mention to my younger sis, Cecil, who indulged me with free airfare tickets.
  
• My lolas- who maintained that I am their favorite. Sorry for not being able to express my love until you were buried.
  
• My aunties (Iya Virgie, Inday Gloria, Manang Deny)- who believed I am still the best.
  
• My nieces and nephews- you are the best. Thanks for the love.
• The Ortega sisters (Glocel, Glee, Glenda, Gilda, Teray and Itin)- they supported me all throughout and they never abandoned me but strengthened the beautiful friendship we had until now. Special mention to Boktot who have seen me through it all.
  
• My girlfriends- Judy, Amay and Charlotte- they inspire me to go on with life. They are my support system. They encouraged me to move on. They never left me. To Judy who has been there and shared my sad and happy moments- thanks tiya.
  
• My Mama Nelin and Dang Maring and Tata and her mom- they are such a lovely bunch of friends. They accepted me and cry with me during my saddest times, not to mention feeding me when I feel like not eating at all.
  
• Mam Ynday- my constant guidance counselor and enemy. We fight over petty things and still are the best of friends.
  
• Girlfriends and girl friends of past and present- Thank you for making my life so beautiful.
  
• You- you are still my best girl friend the world has given me.
  

(Illustration from nenaoh.com)

SHE'S ALWAYS A WOMAN TO ME

(Billy Joel)

She can kill with a smile
She can wound with her eyes
She can ruin your faith with her casual lies
And she only reveals what she wants you to see
She hides like a child,
But she's always a woman to me

She can lead you to love
She can take you or leave you
She can ask for the truth
But she'll never believe
And she'll take what you give her, as long as it's free
Yeah, she steals like a thief
But she's always a woman to me

Oh--she takes care of herself
She can wait if she wants
She's ahead of her time
Oh--and she never gives out
And she never gives in
She just changes her mind

And she'll promise you more
Than the Garden of Eden
Then she'll carelessly cut you
And laugh while you're bleedin'
But she'll bring out the best
And the worst you can be
Blame it all on yourself
Cause she's always a woman to me
--Mhmm--

Oh--she takes care of herself
She can wait if she wants
She's ahead of her time
Oh--and she never gives out
And she never gives in
She just changes her mind

She is frequently kind
And she's suddenly cruel
She can do as she pleases
She's nobody's fool
And she can't be convicted
She's earned her degree
And the most she will do
Is throw shadows at you
But she's always a woman to me
--Mhmm--

Meeting old lovers and flings

I was invited by an old lover to a fiesta at their house. I could not say no. I have to face her family and her new love.

I wonder why we still are friends now. We are even open to each other. I mean- we tell our families and new-found lovers that we had a past. We kiss in public. Not the erotic kiss, of course (what are you thinking?). We show our closeness. Sometimes, we show our intimate signs and endearments like the way we do when we were still on, without knowing it. Her lover teased me. What? I asked. Uyyyyy.

I find it really cute.

But like all other relationships, past is past. But friendships? Oh, they remain strong as ever.

We are happy with our current status.