Thursday, August 25, 2016

An Ode to Used-to-Be


It took me days to just even think of words to start this blog - so, this prelude. Kanlungan begins to play in the background to invoke a deeper sense of nostalgia.

Since I came home from abroad about a week ago to this place where I was born and raised, I've been having this weird sad thought emanating from no longer seeing the things that used to be part of my younger self. Everything that surrounds me seems to have changed unrecognizably from how they were while others have completely vanished from sight. More than the fact that they're gone, what pains me is realizing I wasn’t there when those inevitable moments had to change and unfold. I'd say I have missed a lot. Would have been easier to bear a one quick deep stab to the heart, but not this long, lingering, overpowering and sometimes haunting sentimentality.

Coming home from miles away is purposely to rekindle with family, friends and all those familiar ties. The joy it brings overwhelms the many nights and moments we're away and suddenly it feels things just get back to the olden days. At the end of the day, that very first night however, as you lie in bed looking straight to the white painted ceiling of the room, trying to recall the last time you were in the exact situation, you smile and you tell yourself nothing's really changed. But a couple more minutes staring blankly at this unadorned ball of light, it sinks in and you realize beyond the walls and its four coordinates, things could never be the same. The people, the places and the period have outgrown our own capsuled idea of how they look and where they stand. That peculiar picture frame is turning gray and old but you still look at that moment as vividly and candidly as the day it was taken.

Thursday, January 1, 2015

As Time Turns A Year Older

there's a theory about time, that it is not time that passes us by,
 but we are the ones that are walking through it...

Have you ever wondered how old time is? Have you ever asked yourself when time immemorial really got started? Has the existence and tangibility of time ever crossed your mind? Scientist believe the Earth is over 2 billion years old and the bible, further on this, states that God had created the world and the universe though it never mentions when. The concept of God and time is one and the same. You can't see them by your eyes but you can feel their presence. It's a blur like a rainbow to dog but is is as real and as tangible as the chair you are sitting in. 

 As another year folded up, sure you have devoted some time to reflect on how the past year has been. Proof of that would be the numerous blog entries where you tried to recall all the things, big and small that have made the last 365 days a banner or a bore. And almost everyone have their resolutions for things unsettled in the past year and revolutions for things to make better in the following year. Our assessment mostly centered on how we have done things our way and how much has been added or taken away from the lives that we have been building for the past years. 

Wednesday, January 15, 2014

If Walls Could Talk

Lately I have been on a laughing spree, with cynical grin coagulating my prominent cheekbones. A masked man! A heart stabbed by my own scalpel. Behind the sweet smiles, the stubborn laughter and the unbending personal belief that I am above all else fine, the truth just hurts that I am actually losing, like towering limestone cliffs gnarled by his own height. There were people knocking at my door, but I was far away. They were inviting and yelling, but thought it’s just another fancy game. The door was closed and I have lost people that I have and I should have loved.

Between the walls, there’s a vulnerable heart and hearts that are hurting. Many hasty words and arrogant spiels were said to attenuate pride and smugness. It may seem it pleases me to hurt people who just want to take chance to love and get loved. It may looks like it, but it’s not. If only walls could talk, it would say that I have long been yearning for company, that I treasure people that comes my way and every night in my sleep I am wishing that I could bring back the moments that I have unjustly said goodbye and wishing not to have said it. If walls could talk, it would say that I wanted them more, that though I might have said I have never needed friends, I was lying then, big time, paradoxical.

Tuesday, December 24, 2013

The Christmas I Never Had


For many of us, Christmas is the happiest and the most celebrated season of the year. It's a time for merry making, a venue for family reunion, reconciliation and healing wounds. It's a moment when we try to be the kindest, the most loving, the most forgiving and the most generous person we could ever be. It's a moment where we trace our roots to reflect on the true meaning of the Savior's birth and present ourselves in the humblest way we can.

Christmas has become more than just a tradition but a way of life celebrated in the most special ways. Bright lights adorn houses, joyous music fills the air and the cold weather allows us to put on our best clothes. On that day before that truly special day, we welcome the dawn in festive mood for the year's grandest dinner. And on that one awaited moment when we celebrate the Savior's birth, everyone is inviting, everyone is embracing, everyone is rejoicing, everyone is giving gifts and everyone is nice to one another. It is when we try to forget who we are and be just grateful for that gift that could never be equaled by any amount of material wealth.

That is Christmas.

Sunday, September 8, 2013

OWWAt the &#@(!

I’m not into blogging anymore due to the gravity of what my new work requires. But as they say, once a blogger, always a blogger. No matter what subsequent lives you live, time will come when you’ll just have to grab your thoughts and lay it along the cyber pavements for others to see and read. There would always be experiences in our lives that just don’t need to be kept to ourselves. Success stories are most of them, you got promoted in your job, your girlfriend said yes and your son graduated from school and the list goes on as endless and infinite.

But apart from these, horrible stories shouldn’t as well be kept in the closet. Not only that sharing the same could save other people from going through the same torment or prep them up for situations born to upset and consummate, simply expressing your disappointment over matters that deserve better treatment, in itself, is a step towards making the ringleaders of these horrible things aware that they are not doing any good.

Saturday, December 1, 2012

Despicable Me


December. It's the season to be jolly bitchy.
 
It’s another long weekend in Dubai, normally during these times; I just stay in the house and cut off all ties synonymous to bliss. If I am not drowning myself within the limitless bounds of the cyber universe, I am sulking in one corner, feeling pathetic, wondering how some people below my level are able to be happy and I’m not despite my excesses.  Oh well, when you come to think of it though, they are not actually good excesses; my oversized brain, innate talents, mounting pride, work experiences and finally, a bloated idea of myself. They are too heavy they always let me down. I bet not all would be interested to come close to this kind of guy, inferiority is inevitable. Having known that, I shouldn’t be wondering at all. Until such time I burst that bubble in my head, then this grim, forlorn and desolate room is where I rightfully belong.
 


Friday, August 17, 2012

The Road Home


 
How is the road home for OFWs? Two words. It’s long and it’s expensive.

In two weeks, I am one again coming back to the place where everything got started, the laboratory that has kept my blueprint and the workshop that has molded me to be the character I am today. If you think this decision entails only temporarily leaving my job, buying a ticket and packing my baggage with tons of chocolates in between, you’re dead wrong. This vacation is almost two years in the making. And again, if you’re thinking my presence will alone well absolve my family's anticipation for not seeing me in years; I have some qualms about it. Truth is, they expect more than just seeing me and I am happy to deal with it.

Thursday, August 9, 2012

A Mother's Story



She comes to office at 7:30 each morning, a time at which most souls are still in bed enjoying their extended slumber. She turns the lights on; put her bag on her desk and heads straight to the pantry. She opens one black garbage bag and proceeds to each employee’s desk to collect the trash. She then wipes the tables, arranges the chairs, vacuums the carpet floors and neatly sorts the things in the desks left scattered by employees after the day's work. After making sure everything looks like what a clean office should be, she heads back to the pantry. This time, she washes the coffee mugs and removes the stains and granules spilled over the sink and around. She then refills the beans in the coffee maker and replaces the empty water dispenser with another 5 gallons of liquid all by herself. After probably forty five minutes of motion and devotion, she leaves the area and carries on to another office in another floor and again do exactly the same thing. Before anyone comes in, traces of what they called an office day has been completely vanished and just like what she always greets everyone with, it’s time for another very good morning.