Missing in Action

I cannot believe that I just slept through the entire White Party! This is ME we're talking about!I was all set to go when I decided to just rest for five minutes or so. Lo and behold, when I woke up it was already four fucking oclock in the morning! So I'm keeping this brief because I don't want to think about it any more than I should. There is no use crying over spilt milk. When's the next party? This time I will be sure to make it.

Swords and Pentacles

In the classic Tarot deck there is a certain symbol known as the sword. In my understanding, swords symbolize a lot of emotional and mental stress. On the other hand, what can be considered the opposite of a sword is a pentacle. Where the sword symbolizes a kind of tormented depression, the pentacle means prosperity and a certain sense of joy. A psychic friend of mine told me that I have an invisible pentacle inscribed onto my palm. If I understand this pentacle in terms of the Tarot, then it would mean I am a naturally prosperous and relatively happy person. True, true.

Some people around me, however, are all swords. These people pitifully lie flat on their faces, pinned to the ground with a forest of swords sticking out of their backs. They worked themselves into their own sordid pit of depression, and now they can't seem to get out. They just lie there, wallowing in their own self-pity, hoping that their problems and issues would magically disappear.

I am not one to wait for these people to get over their own drama. I can carry on living happilly with or without them, because I am pentacles. Don't expect me to be the one to remove the swords from their backs. In fact, the more I stand around waiting, I feel that their depression is transferring to me. It should not my business to get depressed over other people's depresssion. The last thing I would want is for them to get rid of their swords by stabbing them into my back.

I'd love to stick around and be the proverbial good samaritan who would help these people stand up again, but if I keep on waiting I will just end up forgoing myself. I don't need the drama, espicially when the drama is not even my own. This is just slowing me down. It is keeping me from other people I could have met, other things I could have had, and other places I could have gone to. I was patient and selfless before, and it got me nowhere. Maybe it's about time to be selfish.

I'll be around. Call me when the drama is over.

school just started

School just started yesterday, and I appear to have really interesting classes. This is the first time that I am trying out an all MWF schedule, which means I don't have classes TTh. Some people said that this kind of schedule is really suicide, since at the end of the day you feel absolutely beat, and yet others say its cool since I have TTh to myself. So far, I think that it is fine since my classes are not that heavy anyway. One tiny little thing though, on the first day of class, I got sick. I think it was brought about by transferring from an airconditioned classroom to a non airconditioned classroom repeatedly. Great and optimistic way to start school.

But somehow, I am very excited about two subjects I have: Third World Lit and Creative Writing Non-Fiction, both under Danton Remoto.The atmosphere in these classes is very relaxed and so far, I do not feel any hostility coming from Danton. I am also busy rewriting all my stories for my up coming thesis, which DM Reyes says is nothing more than a "long paper."Overall, I feel quite optimistic about this new school year and what it will bring. However, I really hope that my fabulous social life will still have a place when things start to pile up.

I hate losing things

I am pissed. I have a nice green hardound notebook. It does not have any lines on the pages. It is the place where I scribble down all my ideas for stories. It is where I first give birth to my characters. It is where I doodle when I don't have anything to do. It was worth 500 freakin pesos (made in Spain and all). And now, it's lost. Take away everything, just leave the notebook!

drama

love eludes me in a kiss

zephyr's flight

"Zephyr in the sky at night"
---This is the first line from Madonna's song "Ray of Light." Over the weekend, this particular line had been singing in my ear. It's really a beautiful line when you come to think about it, since it just sounds so correct, so perfect, and so inevitable. Sound and Sense kiddies, internal music, remember the workshop?

I have been partying hard this entire weekend, so hard in fact that all I did today was sleep. And yes, the most played song on the dancefloor of Government was "Ray of Light." There is something about that song (and about that beautifully crafted first line) that just grabs you violently by the heart and causes you to dance. It speaks of a careless abandon, I believe, like the lone zephyr in the night sky enjoying and celebrating its being a zephyr---its zephyr-ing as they say in philosophy. Romaniticism aside, I totally identify with that zephyr. I'm so enjoying every bit of my being ino, my ino-ing.

Government is so much fun! I have not been to that place in such a long time. Having gone there for the past two nights just makes me want to come back even more. My only problem is that I do not have a gay barkada, with whom I can go out dancing with. My straight friends are all really cool, but it is not everyday that I can invite them to go to Government with me. Sayang, because I became part of the club's VIP list as of Saturday night's party. This means that I am entitled to free entreacne tickets to most of their events this month. The really cool part is that I can bring other people along with me, and they can get in for free as well. Too bad there are'nt many takers.

I need to meet more poeple. The zephyr in the sky at night is cool, but it would be even cooler if there was more than one. After all, the night sky can feel kinda big for just one zephyr.

the opening salvo

Due to insistent public demand, I have finally moved my blog to this site. I have been writing for the past few days in another site and thought of just transferring the entries here. Thus, this is somewhat of a prelude for what there is to come. Enjoy kids.


June 7, 2006

INTRODUCTION
My dear friends, this is my first attempt at starting a blog. Recently, I have been feeling a need to somehow document my existence on this planet. I've been flipping through old family albums and have discovered that upon entering high school, my pictures have slowly decreased in number. If one were to take our family albums as the only proof of our existence, I would have ceased to be when I was just sixteen. Hence, this is me staking out my metaphysical space in the realm of hyperreality, and hopefully eternity.

LET US START WITH GOODBYE
I have just returned home from the National Writers Workshop in Dumaguete, and am currently suffering from the infamous Post-Dumaguete Syndrome. I feel lucky though because the other fellows in our batch have it really bad. At least for me, i had some form of proper closure upon leaving the city. I was sitting on my favorite bench along the boulevard, and was just watching the sea for the last time. In my mind, I kept pushing back the inevitable instant when I would stand up and walk away from the sea. After much lingering, I unconsciously told myself "I think it's about time we headed back." Instantly, I felt goose bumps all over my body because those were the exact words of Luis, one of the characters in a short story I submitted to the workshop. The whole situation struck me with such poignancy, because Luis was sitting in front of the sea, just like I was. Luis also said goodbye to a fanciful sea-girl (a metaphor for his childhood), as I was saying goodbye to Dumaguete.It is rather ironic that my blog should start with a goodbye; a goodbye to the boulevard, a goodbye to the lamps, a goodbye the sea, and a goodbye to the whole Dumaguete dream. But what really got me thinking is whether my goodbye to Dumaguete (like my character Luis' goodbye to his sea-girl) was also a goodbye to my childhood.It has been said many times that Dumaguete is a rite of passage for all young writers in the Philippines. As for me, i feel that it was my own coming of age story, not just as an aspiring writer, but as a person. Does that mean i am now mature? Does that mean i am now an adult? I really do not know. But one thing I do know is that when my plane landed in Manila, I sincerely felt that I left something behind, something that I can no longer retrieve. It is to that something, whatever it may be, that I ultimately bid goodbye.


June 8, 2006

LINGER

It was because the place was just the same
That made your absence seem a savage force,
For under all the gentleness there came
An earthquake tremor: Fountain, birds and grass
Were shaken by my thinking of your name.
-Elizabeth Jennings

In the usual places, you are nowhere in sight. I try looking for you, hoping that your face would suddenly emerge from the crowd, or that you would tap me on the shoulder with your familiar hello. Even just a glimpse of you, please, sipping coffee maybe, or smoking a cigarette, or just standing around the corner.

I walk in and out of doors, again and again, aimlessly, as my feet carry out the automatic dictates of muscle memory. I keep on walking just to delude myself that I am walking towards you. But you are not there.

I do not like waiting, but I linger. I wait quietly for someone who I know is not coming. I search patiently for someone who I know is not searching for me. And after this long and masochistic drama is over, I am afraid, because I know that the familiar sound of your voice will melt me, still.

I am much too kind for my own sanity.


June 10, 2006

LIVING FOR THE MOMENT

According to my horoscope, this weekend will be a most fabulous one with regards to my social life. There appears to be a wonderful event out there tonight wherein I will be the absolute center of attention. Already, the attention whore in me is jumping up and down in utter glee.

Last night, I went out with Tasha with whom I made a pact. The pact is rather simple really, since it just involves going out with her every single weekend until the day we graduate. Come long test or mid-terms or finals, we will party until the freakin break of dawn! The only down side to this is that Tasha and I seem to be the only ones in the gang game enough (or crazy enough) to do this. It is so sad since the other people already chose to live the sedentary lives of tame and domesticated housewives. In my opinion, that is just the highest form of sacrilege that one can commit against the god of youth! You're young, why give all of that up? But if that's what makes them happy then so be it.

I was talking last night to Tasha's uber cool uncles and aunts and they said that people my age should enjoy this particular time in life. This moment is precious, since we are a)young, b)beautiful, c)healthy, d)horny, and e)free of economic responsibilities. You just cannot beat that combination! There will never again be a time in life when you can get away with such wanton hedonism and pure unrestrained joy.

You're twenty now, you're forty tomorrow, you're sixty on Monday, and before you know it you are a hundred. Aging absolutely frightens me because I am just so in love with life. But what am I thinking, I have a fabulous party scheduled for tonight. Enough of these ominous thoughts about the future slowly looming in the horizon. Screw the future because tonight it will just be about the moment. See you at the dance floor kiddies!