KATIPUNAN

Dalawang nakaraan ang bumabalik sa isipan.
Isa, noong nasa rurok ng kamusmusan.
Panahong unang makita ang "mundo",
       ang inaakalang kalawakan.
Panay umaga, panay hapon.
Sa aking isip isang agam-agam
       sa susunod na apat na taon.
Panay aklat, panay sabi-sabi.
Kailan ko makikita ang mundo
       para sa aking sarili?

Sa pagitan ng tatlong taon binaybay
       ang mas malawig na daan.
EDSA sa mas kilalang tawag ng karamihan.
Subalit sa biglang tawag ng "tadhana"
Akoy' dinalang muli sa dating kalsada.
Sa pagkakataong ito ibang "ako" ang napagdili-dili
Maliban sa edad, bitbit ko
       ang libong kaisipa't damdaming kinukubli.
Sa uma-umagang pakikibaka
       sa paghihintay at pagninilay
Umuuwi gabi-gabi sa parehong rutang
       tanging ilaw at busina ang karamay.
Minsang aambon, madalas ulan at baha
Sa napakaiksing panahon ang daang ito'y
       saksi sa lahat ng hinuha.

Sa umagang bitbit ko ang ligayang walang tungo
Gaya ng ilaw na itinutok sa langit, may pinagmumulan
       subalit walang dulo.
Sa gabing pasan ko ang lahat ng hapo
Nangangarap ng isang biyaheng
       matatapos sa iilang pulso.
Sa bawat oras, hindi gabi't hindi rin araw,
Na ako'y nakalutang sa isang balintataw
Nagmumuni-muni sa susunod na hakbang
Nakatitig sa malawak na luntiang lupaing
       sa harap nama'y puno ng harang.

Isang iglap, muling kinailangang magpaalam
Isang libo't isang tagpo ang tumakas sa aking agam-agam.
Hindi ko nagawang tignan ka sa huling pagkakataon.
Ang mga tulay na sinubok ng mahabang panahon
Ang mga posteng nagsisilbing gabay
Ang mga taong ipinaubaya na sa 'yo ang kanilang buhay.

Pa-Silangan, pabalik sa aking Kabataan.
Pa-Hilaga, patungo sa aking Kinabukasan.
Magkaroon kaya muli ng ikatlong pagtatagpo?
Akin na lamang ipinikit ang mga matang
       sa pagod ay sumuko.
Sino nga ba'ng makapagsasabi, aking kaibigan?
Marahil ang butihing Hangin, kung ito'y muling aayon
       sa Kanyang kalooban. #

Andreo Bongco Photography

RESISTING RESISTANCE

I was sitting on my bedside quietly, holding my plane ticket which says departure is at 11am at Terminal 1. I jumped to my still unlocked luggage, and turned to the laundry where I'm still washing and forcibly drying a couple of clothes that I know I have to bring with me. Outside of my room, mom and dad didn't look ready either. It's almost 9am. We got into the car. Along the way I realize I forgot my ticket and passport at home. No choice but to go back the tracks of the horrible EDSA traffic. It's almost 10:30 and at this point I know I'm definitely going to miss my flight. Ironically, I am not worried at all. Suddenly, my mobile phone alarms. It's 5 in the morning. I'm alone in my room, in Germany, and it has been almost two weeks now. And I have been resistant so far.

I guess it's but natural to compare old things and habits when you get a chance to see new places. When I first came here, it was just nice to see that airports and train stations were clean, buses come and go on time, streets are safe to walk, cars make a full stop for crossing pedestrians, water everywhere is safe to drink, prices of goods are reasonable, and the environment is generally peaceful. Before I left though, one of my friends said, "Give yourself a week to adjust, then you'll see." Indeed but unconsciously, I started missing things little by little. I missed having to wake up early to get rid of traffic, working at 2 in the morning, cooking for the family, preparing for Households, getting scared of going home late, Sunday mass, UP and jeepney rides, Tumana, Technohub, Megamall --- everything and everybody I've been used to in the past years just come flashing back in my head every now and then. I'm a very nostalgic person, and when I say "I miss" something, it means missing the feeling that comes with that beautiful memory. So yes, this is the very reason why I sometimes intentionally get up before dawn here --- because I wanted to get in touch and chat with people I am familiar with back home.

Bit by bit, too, I started to dislike two facts of life here. One, that everything's just too convenient. For someone who grew up in the third world, hardship is a part of life; and it makes me uncomfortable how comfortable things and people are here. So what are people actually living for? Second, that I'm doing things here for me alone. It was very timely though that around the same time that I'm feeling this, Pao, one of my former officemates, told me, "Ate remember, hindi lang yan para sa sarili mo." In a snap I was reminded. That line made perfect sense. Indeed, I have to accept the fact that everything I do here is part of the dream I wanted to achieve. I know what I am fighting for, but I cannot choose the battles that can come with it. In the littlest of things, my patience, endurance and faith will be tested, and I'm going to have to lose part of the familiar along the way.

I'm not yet in the verge of homesickness. I might be missing things, but I realize today that I'm happy. I'm happy not because I'm away from thousands of my country's third world problems, but because I realize that I was actually very happy with my life back at home. In fact it is now that I appreciate coming from a third world even more. It may not be a first world life that I live, but it's a life I lived with people, for people, with love, and for love. And I am proud to say today and every single day that my country is beautiful, and so are my people. Those are the very things that's going to keep me for now.

Today, another week has passed. Although the first week has excruciatingly been slow, this one went by pretty fast. So maybe two years won't be so long after all. I would just need to remind myself to resist the feeling of resistance more often. And I would be needing your prayers more often too. #

PICKING UP

Man, has it been a while.

When it has been months since your last post, there's no other way to start all over but to mull over your random thoughts. Yep, that's the sign of a true fake writer. For real.

So people thought that I went on a writing hiatus. Was I keeping myself in the corner, contemplating on the next big thing to write about, like a rock star hiding away on the outskirts of Memphis, listening to the Mississippi with pen and paper on hand? Not true --- I simply could not do it the past months. Lack of inspiration? Too cliche. Preoccupied? Maybe. Well let's just say I have been that lazy that I didn't even lift a finger to type you a short paragraph. Yep, "lazy" is indeed the perfect adjective.

Five months. I can't even keep up. What actually transpired? I knew there was a whole lot. What pains me though, is that I could not type them all now as they have just gone past in front of me. Like an unexpected cool wind that greets you on a hot summer noon --- five seconds, and that's it. Five months. The adventures perhaps could have been written somewhere in this blog. It could have been a narration of colors, of emotions. But none of it was ever written. It was regrettable, but at the same time it was not.

The past five months, I now realize, has been a time of significant silence. Incidentally, it has also been five months since I have muted myself on Facebook. For people who know me, I'm a one-line orator --- I speak my mind in one line, whether people like it or not, whether I build or destroy. But suddenly, what started off as a break from insanity eventually became a habit. My initial intention in deactivating my account was to focus on a last-chance project I've long been working on. I have been bothered with so much noise around news feed, tags, posts, and other social media what-nots, and I know that a distance from all these would definitely be handy.

And so it has been. The last-chance, by God's grace, has unexpectedly become a turnaround opportunity. I had to pay the price though, of course. Some friends thought I "un-friended" them. In many occasions I thought I was so out-of-date that I don't even know what's happening not only to friends but to my surroundings. I don't even know who's going to read this if this doesn't get posted in FB!!!

Still, I have not touched the log-in button. For one, I learned to challenge myself to make the effort to get to know people better not by looking at their profiles, but by taking a conscious effort to give time for a sweet talk. Informing myself on the latest news is another. I had to do a little trick though and create a second account for my Singles for Christ updates ---  I accepted no friends though, so that made me look all the more anti-social. It's not cool telling people you don't have FB, but being anti-social though makes you realize who your real "Friends" are. Believe me.

I have been silent most of my conscious life. I always thought that when you're a woman of few words, more silence would not mean anything anymore. But this period of silence has been the greatest and most humbling thus far. The noise has consumed me both ways --- inward and outward. Over time, we unconsciously become products of culture and the environment. As for me, I talked more and listened less. With silence, I learned to listen to only the most essential sources, and depend on the One source of all things essential.

I have accepted that I will be misunderstood a while more. But the journey is not over yet. At a point when I have started picking up the pieces, I know that a little more silence won't hurt. #

SUMMIT

Autumn.
That time of the year when dried out leaves bid farewell
To branches that hold them dear.
Brown, dry, fallen.
On the ground, crisp as freshly washed linen,
Taking the hue of the earthen soil beneath.
At times, on grass.
On lush greens moistened with cold dew drops at dawn.

Autumn.
A time of dying, a prerequisite to breathing.
To breathe, to give way to life anew,
When branches give birth to sprigs of green
And pink
And yellow
And purple.
Flowers.
Tiny buds making its way out of their home,
Out of seeds, out to where the breeze blows
At the gentlest sign of spring.

But, spring.
Doesn't come until after the cold.
Not until a young, brown leaf gets crushed
On the ground, covered with thin, gray, dusty ice.
Not until the frozen silence conquers the heavy rustling
And falling
And dying.

And dying.

Autumn. #

MY FAVORITE MISTAKES (in Filipino Grammar)

The Philippines has always been proud of its high literacy rate, always more or less at the 90+% rate year in year out. On top of that, 56% of the population are well-versed in the English language that we are even more particular in grammar and vocabulary compared to native speakers. In fact the middle and upper classes of society have coined the term "Grammar Nazi" to pertain to people who spot and correct grammatical errors at point blank. This becomes very common, especially in the age of social media where more than half of the posts you see by Filipinos are actually expressed in English. What fancies me, however, is the fact that we are actually very prone to drawing ourselves into the same pitfall --- that is, get really bad in our native language's basic grammar 101s.

So as much as grammar nazis hate the famous subject-verb agreement errors popularized by pop songs ("she don't love me") and favorite homophone mistakes (your and you're, their and they're), I'm listing 5 of the most common Filipino (Tagalog to be specific) grammatical errors that I encounter in daily conversations.

1) Nang/Ng - similar to the they're and their etc, this Filipino homophone is the most favorite mistake of all time. Nang is an adverb (pang-abay) therefore should be followed by a verb or an adjective, while Ng is a preposition ("of" in English) thus should be followed by a noun.

e.g. gumising NANG maaga, gusto NANG umatras, vs. uminom NG tubig, nagtakal NG bigas. And don't mistake it with the contracted "NA + ANG". It's a little similar to "already" e.g. wala NANG pera, or mayroon NANG kuryente

Nang is also a substitute for "noong", as in NANG siya ay umalis. Also a substitute for "para" as in maligo ka NANG bumango. But those are more on the formal use.

2) Verb conjugation in the Past Tense - Generally, if the verb begins with a consonant, past tense becomes first letter + in + the rest of the verb. If the verb begins with a vowel, you write "in", and then the verb. This goes true for verbs requiring a direct object (tuwirang layon).

e.g. kuha = kINuha ang... , amoy = INamoy ang... , patong = pINatong sa... , inom = INinom ang...

But of course there is an exception for verbs beginning with the letter L, wherein you use the format "ni + verb"

e.g. lagay = nilagay ang... , luto = niluto ang...

So it's actually wrong to say nikuha, nipatong, niganyan, niganon. They're probably just trying to sound cute. :P

3) Verb conjugation in the Present Tense - For present tense, the repetitive syllable will always be the first syllable of the verb and not the "KA".

e.g. Nakaiinis, not Nakakainis. So it's actually wrong to say Nakakapagpabagabag because it should be Nakapagpapabagabag. :)

4) Spelling 101 - the SMS and social media age has brought about major changes with the way we spell our native words. It's HINDI and not HINDE, LALAKI and not LALAKE, SINABI and not SINABE. And because Tagalog is simply pronounced as spelled and vice-versa, please, we need to hear the /i/ sound and not the /eh/.

5) Raw/Daw = you use RAW if followed by a word ending in a vowel. DAW is used when preceded by a word that ends in a consonant. Exceptions are letters W and Y as they sound like vowels.

sinabi RAW ni Pepe, not sinabi daw
inamin DAW ng kriminal, not inamin raw
palay RAW ang ani, not palay daw
mababaw RAW ang ilog, not mababaw daw

BONUS: Taglish conjugated verbs = I just love seeing words like "nag-swimming", "magta-Timezone" and other horrible conjugations of both Tagalog and English verbs. They seem to be generally acceptable now, but only in as far as human understanding is concerned (lol). I myself could not think of a straight rule for this, but it really pains me to see Tagalog letters in between English words, like:

pinakuluan = binoil
pinadala = sinend
kinulot = cinurl (how do you even pronounce that?!)

And because they are both grammatically and aesthetically ugly, can we please just settle with them being unacceptable? :P


I gave you the jumpstart and you may think of several more. We may laugh, yes, but we're not being grammar Nazis here. Anybody who hasn't made a mistake in either languages is by the way called a grammar freak already. And I'm not saying that we Filipinos should just stick to English either. Our language is part of our identity, and the rules around its grammar is not meant to alienate any speaker or writer, but to simply act as a guide to its art form, and for the sole purpose of communication and universal understanding.

Oh and the next time you greet someone hello, say KUmusta and not KAmusta --- because it's actually from the Spanish "como estas." :) #

LIVING IN THE NOW

The first time I drafted a resignation letter, I stared for more than a freaking hour at a blank MS Word page. Knowing myself, I planned on writing something dramatic, and ending it with a bang. But I ended up searching Google for a sample resignation letter format, something more direct, since no one would really care anyway.

Poignancy hits me nowadays seeing a lot of good friends leaving my workplace. I think to myself, “That was me, almost 3 years ago.” I suddenly miss those days of stress and transition, the exciting thought of starting anew, and the wave of relief when you finally get your last pay. Seeing people leave can be a bit sad. Yes, it's only a “bit” now, because I've gradually been numbed over time.

When I was younger I used to believe that the relationships I have built in my workplace would be the only thing that would hold me. You can’t blame me, my first officemates were all warm and cool at the same time (shameless shout-out to my EA and FGI friends out there), and we had a lot of ideals and hobbies in common. But people grow, and so do our dreams. It was painful to let go of 3 and a half years of good memories, but we all come to a point of decision --- and I decided to move out where I know it’s not going to be comfortable. One by one, we did. And to this day we honored an unwritten promise --- no excuses, and no turning back.

This time though, I’m the one who’s being left. But I know I understand things better now, and perhaps I owe it to that part of my past. Now I know why the people I left cared the least. They probably were happy, and we have different priorities anyway. Plus, they were stable enough to not let anybody else's decisions affect theirs. And I understand why some younger people would react like it’s the end of the world when their friends leave too. I used to think the same, but I always remind myself that though making friends is part of what we gain, that’s not the reason why we go to work. 

People get used to ways, to habits, to people, and then the daily routine eventually becomes a system. When something suddenly changes, that’s when our system gets a glitch. And when we can’t cope with change, that’s when we lose. It’s ok to miss a lot of things --- besides the people, sales meetings, field work and stressful phone calls, I still miss the EDSA traffic and anniversary sales. Believe me, I still could not memorize my new pay dates (yes I know, that sucks), and there are Mondays when I wake up worrying if I left the logbook with the Warehouse. Then I realize, it’s been 3 years and I now have a new set of worries to attend to. When I wake up to those kind of days, I just smile, and then go back to living in the present. It's your journey so you have all the control over the steering wheel. If you keep looking at your rear view, holding on to the past, you won't see the astounding beauty ahead of you.

Time permits us to handle things differently, including change. We experience similar situations, but in different perspectives, thus we approach them differently too. And if we just allow ourselves to grow and accept certain inalienable truths, there’s no need for unnecessary drama. But it will all happen over time. That’s why all I can say is, it sure feels good to be older. # 

fitvillains

MY SUICIDE NOTE (Just in case)

This last letter goes out to my beloved family, friends, and people who might thought to have known me.

The year 2014 has been nuts. April came and I suddenly felt like I'm pressed against a wall of a tilted ship, with all the stuff in the boat inevitably rushing towards me. Life gets really hard at times, especially when you feel like all of a sudden, someone's creating earthquakes below the ground, resulting to some major damages on the surface. But honestly, I also once believed Earthquakes are opportunities to rebuild. Nature reclaims what is hers, destroys all those man-made nonsense, and in the end we go back to basic.

People who knew me well also knew that there were only 3 things that I hated when I was alive. One, expectations. Great expectations. Second, boring stuff --- you know, highly predictable patterns. And third, storm surges. I'm not a huge fan of calm waters, but neither do I love tons of problems simultaneously getting in the way. It creates massive panic that results to unwise and impractical decisions. Today was one.

I killed myself not because I was betrayed and disenchanted. The past months, I was shocked to know that some "friends" have that other side in them which in my wildest dreams I never would have thought. I reached a point where I realized people either faked it or simply hid the truth from me. But that's fine, I mean that's reality. I'm human, and so are they. They were my "friends" but I was not. If anybody's apparently capable of doing unthinkable things, I'm surely not one to judge. I go forward. I was probably just naive.

I killed myself not because I broke my own heart. The past months, I found out that someone I like actually likes someone else, and that he dated a couple of people who I actually know. I like him but he doesn't like me back. But again, that's fine, I mean it was my choice anyway and I can always like someone else and be happy again. And that doesn't give me a reason to start hating either. I was probably just naive.

I killed myself not because this world was unfair. The past few years, I worked long hours, didn't sleep very well, didn't get to travel around and spend my money on myself so much because I thought I had better things to prioritize. I've always loved writing, but when my essay got published in a major newspaper this year, I can't go telling people because I have a lot in my turf to protect. It was crazy and horrible at the same time. But that's fine, I mean I enjoyed every bit of the experience while I was alive, and it felt good to look back that everything I did was out of my own free will. I was probably just naive.

I killed myself not because I didn't have much friends. Though I was not bullied, people did not like me so much either. Sometimes I felt like a wallflower, and a lot of times I asked myself what's wrong with me. But I realized having a few good friends is already a good thing in itself, because the more I tried to fit in, the more I felt screwed. I was happy, because I know I have my family, and I was loved by people who chose to accept and appreciate simply what's me. I was probably just naive.

And I killed myself not because I was naive. People thought I was the nice guy, because I never thought anybody will intentionally hurt me --- until they actually do. That's why when I get hurt, I get even (see? I told you I'm not nice). But although I used to get embarrassed with my naivete, I realized that was the exact same thing that held me together. If I allowed myself to get hurt because of things, people, and words that should not really matter, I would have killed myself rather earlier than today.

Today, I killed myself --- the self that knew fear, distrust, envy, and anger. I killed the self that destroyed the self that could have bloomed a long time ago, a self that should have known nothing but hope, love and faith. The Earthquakes were all meant to rebuild me. And though you will never know how crazy things get inside my head every single minute, I know I'm still sane --- because I believe it was my God who created those ripples, and it is only He who can reclaim what is His in His time. #


"I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me." - Philippians 4:13

urbanemix.com

THE ART OF MOULTING

And yet I'm faced with another blank canvas moment, wanting to write "something" but not knowing whether that "something" will mean to you, to him, or if anybody will even give a damn to read through. But I'll blabber anyway.

I haven't fully recovered from fatigue that brought my system down to catch the flu virus and triggered some bad allergies. Some, as in even those I was unaware I have them (red ants, grass, stings). And for folks who know me well, I don't go seeking doctor's advise unless I'm due for hospitalization soon. I'm stubborn indeed, and maybe this same stubbornness has forced me to stop, rest, and think things through.

I have been really busy. With a work schedule that's not fit for an average 115-lb human, I tried stretching myself to get more involved in SFC activities, attend online language courses, catch-up with personal learning, on top of the usual house chores just to force myself to achieve the so called "work-life balance." But after months and months of not getting enough sleep and stressing myself out to do everything, it was an auto-shutdown for me. The result? Now I (temporarily) can't go OT, can't attend activities, and can't even help around the house today otherwise I would have to extend this unwanted vacation. So with the hours I spent in bed romancing the pale yellow light from the bedside floor lamp, I was asking myself, "Now what am I apart from these things that I do?" What a good way to even stress myself out for overthinking.

But seriously speaking, a lot of us find our identity in the realm we are moving in. I am blah and I work for blah blah blah. I am blah's daughter and blah blah blah are my friends. I am active in blah and I do blah blah blah in this community. To top it off, we people just love listening to and doing things according to the unnecessary advise of people who define coolness and belongingness. So maybe a little removal from every bit of these helps in revisiting yourself and knowing which direction to actually take.

I love going vertical when everyone goes horizontal. But yes, I suffer a fair amount of good ol' marginalization because of this. As you can't relate to most because you've intentionally pushed yourself away from the pool of trends, you basically belong nowhere --- so you just have to enjoy the silence and isolation that this entails. Silence and isolation that leads to more moments of contemplation. For an often nostalgic mammal like me, these two are dangerous.

A couple of hours ago I posted an FB status that tagged a lot of friends from my first job. I genuinely miss everything about that life. Maybe a lot may not know how proud I am to have come from a job that perhaps was sometimes "deglamorizing" but to which I owe a lot of things that I've learned. And I knew that I had this family of FGI folks whose affinity I cannot trade for anything I have now. I am not afraid to get judged, and of people who might think that I am not happy with what I have now. So here's what I have to say: As much as I would love to move back to where it is comfortable, we all have to go forward, grow, and live. Your choices lead you to unexpected scenes, but I'm still firm on the fact that wherever I am now, I was placed here for some good reason, whether I'm living the way I wanted or not.

Tired. Yes, I am tired of a lot of things that perpetually bothers me. A good friend has strongly advised me this week to "let go." Although she meant that for something in particular, I might need to take that in general. But what if I let go ala Jeff Buckley down the Wolf River? Or ala Chris McCandless to seize the wild? Wait up, these two guys ended up dead. Better find equally dramatic stunts but with less morbidity.

I'm not in the mood to answer my own question so I'll just let this molting process carry on with its job while I wait. But for now, it's time to pick up on my German lessons. Bis später. #

ANG PAG-IBIG AY ALAALA

Sana ang pag-ibig ay buhangin sa mabatong baybayin,
Kayang lunurin ng dagat,
Lamunin ng alon,
At mahugas ng alat.

Sana ang pag-ibig ay anino sa malawak na dalampasigan,
Kayang saklubin ng dapit-hapon,
Sa pagtawid ng bangka
Sa kabila ng Tulay.

Sana ang pag-ibig ay dahon sa taglagas,
Kayang dalhin ng malakas na hangin
Sa bawat paghampas nito
Sa natutuyo nang mga puno.

Sana ang pag-ibig ay niyebe sa mga sanga,
Kayang matunaw sa pagbungad
Ng isang maaraw na umaga
Sa pagsapit ng Tagsibol.

Ngunit, ang pag-ibig ay alaala.

Ang pag-ibig ay alaala ng tunog ng hampas ng alon,
Sumasabay sa bawat tibok ng pulso sa karagatan.

Ang pag-ibig ay alaala ng tanawin sa paglubog ng araw
Sa mabilis na paglisan ng dapit-hapon sa dalampasigan.

Ang pag-ibig ay alaala ng paglaglag ng mga dahon,
Naiipon sa ipu-ipo ng kahel at luntian sa Taglagas.

Ang pag-ibig ay alaala ng marahang pagpatak ng niyebe,
Tahimik na binabalot ng puti ang paligid sa Taglamig.

Ang pag-ibig ay damdamin.
Ang damdamin ay kaisipan.
Ang kaisipan ng damdamin ay isang alaala.
Ang pag-ibig, ay alaala. #

SCATTERED

I thought
I was fine.

I woke up on a Tuesday feeling somewhat light.
Light. Golden sun rays peeping through the rusting cold window sills.
Cliches. Cliches. I hate cliches.
But at one point in my life, I may have had to bite on a few.
Bite. And chew.

I thought
I was fine.

But though I only thought I was fine,
I was actually feeling really fine.
Fine. I wasn't.
But it wouldn't help thinking you actually are not.
Because you actually. Are not.

So I choose
To be.

It was not so hard a choice after all,
Thinking, it wouldn't have mattered anyway.
Because it never did. I was only at that point where I thought it did.
Walking now towards the forest clearing, I know it never did.
It never did.

I thought
I was not.
Fine.

Growing seeds of love, hatred, love, pain. Love.
I looked everywhere for that very concept,
For that very idea that everyone told me to be such.
Understanding. That's what I found. Pain. It's surreal.
Surreal. It's pain.

I thought
Thoughts.
Random, scattered trail of thoughts.
Perhaps the river will bring some calm.
Perhaps the seas will cover, divert,
Swallow what's left of it. Of me.

The big sea.
Salty, calm, and blue.
Scattered. Over me. #