Am I real?

Sometimes, when I have nothing else to do except to lie down and wait for sleep to overpower me, I would think about the extremely bad things in life:

What will happen if I die? What will I die of and who will be coming to my wake? How useless I was for not being able to give back to my parents for all their hard work..

What will happen if I lose someone I love? Will I be crying as hard as those in television? Will there be times when I space out and find myself in a different place? What will I say or do if we meet again?

What will happen if I end up poorer than I am now?

I would cry just by thinking about all of these. And I never show my tears to anyone. They will just laugh at me and tell me I’m crazy or too paranoid, haha!

Five seconds later, when I exhausted my emotional self, I would think about happy and triumphant thoughts. (I don’t know about you, but I see this as an ‘exfoliating/rejuvenating’ process)

I would think about how happy I will be if I end up with someone I really loved and be able to share my future with him.

I would think about the children I will send to school—mine or not. I would think about how to reprimand them, teach them Math (a subject I am not good at) and watch them grow.

I would think about how will I be able to let my children taste how wonderfully I cook if I cannot cook right now.

And, I would smile until I sleep.

Be inspired. :)

Because you need to be inspired, not because you are down but because you need to be reminded of how wonderful you are. :)

*photo from Google Images

The Enigma That Is Mr. _

There will always be this person who will be an enigma to you.

He and you were not classmates. He and you do not belong to the same clique. He and you do not share common interests. He and you have not really shared a conversation.

But you found yourself admiring him. Because of how he faces life with a sarcastic tongue and a brilliant mind that shocks even those who take a bath and comb their hair everyday.

My friends and I agree that this person is every inch an ideal man for any girl. But he seems unlucky when it comes to love. For chrissakes, he deserves to be loved! But how cruel the world is, for letting him be among those who love—only he does not get his love back.

He is one-of-a-kind. As I write this, I sometime wonder if I ever had a crush on him. No, you would not fall for his looks. It would be because of his brilliance, his wit, his words.

Luck is the future girl, we think, as we see him pass by, ready for the next class. His eyes never look kind.

Sa Tiyangge Ni Tita:]

Sa may tiyangge ni tita,
magahod ang mga bata.
Magahod man ang anda mga Nanay,
samtang ginabuyayaw ang anda mga Tatay.

Gahampang Chinese garter ang mga bata nga baye,
kag ga-back dive ang mga bata nga lalaki.
Samtang si Tatay,
padayon lang ang tagay.

Pag-abot ni Nanay halin sa tinda,
layo pa, gasinggitan na.
Ginpasulod sa balay ang bata nga baye,
kag ginpa-apas man ang bata nga lalaki.

Kag si Tatay,
nga padayon gihapon ang tagay
“Paghalin ko gatagay ka,
pagbalik ko, damo na nga tansan ang galapta”.

Kag ginparaspas si Tatay
sang bitbit nga isda.
Kaluluoy man ang isda nga gahulat-hulat man tani
nga maprito sa kaldero nga indi kiwi.

This “bragging activity”.

I’m sitting on top of sacks of rice as I am writing this. This is the only area in my aunt’s store where the Internet access is not disturbed.

I find it a bit ironic and funny. I look like I am bragging about my almost dilapidated laptop while blasting Rivermaya, EHeads and Parokya. If I would see myself, I might snort at the sight of me, haha! I look like a braggart because I in a place where irony is walking by you everyday–rich people walking, poor but good-looking couple running after their kids, tricycle drivers sporting phones worth over 10, 000 pesos.

This “bragging activity” lets me into their lifestyle: the kind of life they live through the kind of things they buy from my aunt’s store, their daily problems, their kids’ problems with school and more.

But deep inside, I hope they do not see me as a braggart. I still care about what people say even when my face doesn’t say it. But if they do, it’s OK. I’d still sell them candy. :D

“Nanay and Tatay”

When I was younger, I thought the titles “Nanay & Tatay”, “Mama & Papa” and “Daddy& Mommy” are status symbols.

I thought “Nana and Tatay” belonged to poor families, “Mama and Papa” were how you called your parents if your family can afford more than the basics and “Mommy and Daddy” were parents to spoiled children who had frilly clothes and fat, lazy cats.

My parents wanted me to call them “Nanay and Tatay”. I did so without letting my classmates know. We lived in a nipa house and when a storm would pass by we would hide under the table. Hahaha! When it rained and the path walk to the dirt road was muddy, my father would piggyback ride us three one by one until we reached the highway.

It took me years to reveal this to my classmates: that we were poor and life was as simple as can be. After all, my parents did all they can to send us all to a private Catholic school in town. We were luckier than 90% of the children who lived in our barangay.

As I grew older, I began to see the tenderness that were in “Nanay and Tatay” that most children cannot mimic when they ask for new toys. “Mama and Papa” often clashed with “Nanay and Tatay” such that the former were reserved for one’s nuclear parents and the latter, for the grandparents. “Mommy and Daddy” were the ones used when one is asking for one peso coins to buy Stick-O or homemade pastillas.

As I recounted my piggyback ride and under-the-table-during-the-storm days, I smiled at the status symbols that were never meant to be.

An Excuse Letter For WP

“I am sorry for having been absent…”

So goes the most common format of our elementary to high school excuse letter. I think of being absent as one good way of letting your creative juices flow and invent all the lies in the world. (Telling th truth takes away all the fun, whut up XD)

But I am guilty of being absent here on WordPress as well. T_T I cannot tell when I will be able to blog “properly” again. I hope it will be tomorrow. Hahahaha!

Para Sa Iyo, Jennie.

Naiinis ako kasi di ka na naman
kumain sa tamang oras
Di ka na naman naligo–sabi mo malamig.
Di ka na naman nag-ayos
ng kwarto, ng kama at ng sarili.

Noodles lang ang kinain mo ngayong araw.
Eh, di ba, nag-noodles ka rin kahapon?
Bukas bumili ka na sa karinderya diyan sa tabi,
huwag noodles ang bilhin mo ha?

Maglaba ka na ng mga damit mo,
gatambak na sila.
Paboritong tahanan ng ipis at daga.
Maglaba ka na, habang may araw pa.

Magsulat ka ng tula
Magaling ka diyan, sayang naman.
Di ba may balak kang gumawa ng libro balang araw?
Magsulat ka; damihan mo ha?

At basahin mo sakin pagbalik ko diyan
Sabay tayong tumawa sa iyong husay at galing.
Sabay tayong manood ng pelikula, serye at iba pa,
habang kumakain ng noodles sa hapunan.

[I made this for Jennie during one of those days that I was at home and she was left at our boarding house in Cebu. Guess I missed her. :D]

That Girl From The Big House

She looked so beautiful
That girl from the big house.
I was as boys casually shot her admiring glances
as they passed by.

Some of them are from distant towns,
bringing her chocolates, flowers and cards
Some of them are neighbors wishing her a “Maayong aga, gwapa”
before a day’s work at the fields.

She never once came down
That girl from the big house.
Always she looked out her window
with her hands clasped tight.

She looked to me worried and afraid
as if each day is a petal
slowly falling from a pretty flower
on a windy day.

I often wondered what she is thinking
That girl from the big house.
She did not appear at her window
one sad morning

I wondered why
as I put down my pastels and pencils
I guess this day would not be productive
for an artist such as myself,

As I looked at my beautiful canvasses
of that girl from the big house.

The Rural Life

The soft purr of the cat sleeping by the gumamelas,
disturbed my reverie.

I did not realize I was staring at the rippling circles
created by little catfishes in our swamp.

So dazed was I that when I looked down,
my dog was barking madly at me.

As I wondered why,
I felt a tingling sensation on my toes.

I stomped wildly
as little red ants took big bites

I danced with no music,
no coordination, no grace.

The day has started.