Believed Abstraction.

Well of course, that day progressed into something I have least expected.

First, I turned off my phone at exactly 12 mn to induce myself the element of surprise. Simply put, I’d like to be surprised the moment I turn on my CP. And indeed, I was more than surprised. First name to appear on my phone: beboy. That was my first smile on June 09 at 5:00 am. He didn’t exactly greet me, but his gift said it (I suppose). If you’re reading this, do I owe you a text everyday now?:)

Second, I was very lucky that day. Well, “lucky” may even be an understatement. This was due to our very productive appointment with the Consuls at the Indonesian consulate. I was able to market one cluster for DATE. Meaning, I sold six booths which is equivalent to Php xxx, xxx. xx and a possible sponsorship of Php xx, xxx. xx should they pursue my offer. That was quite a feat for a thirty-minute sitting. But the excitement didn’t end there ‘cause the Consul asked us to bid to become the official event organizer for the Indonesian “Batik” Fashion Show in Marco Polo. Isn’t that cool? Our competitor would be Joji Ilagan Bian and Baby Montemayor, Davao renowned socialites. But that shouldn’t pose a grave threat; this proves quite a challenge instead. I’m calling in soon to formalize the bid. I’m crossing my fingers.

After our “success”, I asked ED Elcid to take me to Cecil’s coz my sweet tooth was screaming for egg pie and éclairs. Sweet, delectable – it was fun spoiling our sweet tooth. The food trip was followed by a sight-seeing venture around the residence of one of Davao’s luxury vehicle collectors. Let me recall, he got a yellow and black Hummer, a couple of Mini-coopers, a Fortuner, an Everest, a couple of top-downs, a couple of Expedition, six genuine Harley-Davidson big bikes… and I lost track of what I saw. And here’s a twist: the owner bought a stretch of land for parking use. It was rather catchy because the car spaces were artistically painted and labelled as “dad’s parking”, “mom’s parking”, “sexy’s parking”, and a whole lot more. Thought Gaisano or Alcantara was Davao’s richest? Think again! He’s not even a Dizon.

Later that day, I cancelled my appointment with Ryan but promised to catch up with the editing all day and possibly all night the next day? Jeez. Why is it that a day has 24 hours only? I’m just glad Ryan was cool with my own definition of “working hours”. All my artists have been such a wonderful blessing to me, especially Moxy and Ryan. Thank God.

Then at the office during noon, when I finally opened my email, wholla, my inbox was flooded with birthday greetings. Thanks to facebook, and of course, thanks to my friend’s efforts of writing on my wall. And apart from the people who have sent me mails, I have more than 50 messages too in my phone greeting me happy birthday. This doesn’t happen everyday; so it’s a really lovely feeling to be remembered and wished well. I felt so happy reading these peoples thoughtfulness.

I thought surprises would end there but when I went out to get something from my work station (I secluded myself in the library, btw), I was surprised that the office threw a bash for me. I did not quite expect it coz two of my officemates who celebrated their birthdays a couple of days and weeks ago have not enjoyed their own office “party”. A simple cake, pancit (I should learn to eat this very soon), and ice cream were all it took to de-stress us from a heavy day. This was such a sweet surprise!

And finally, Dad surprised to pick me up too. When I got home, there goes my unexpected second birthday party. The best part was that I got to blow my five colourful candles and eat my favourite carbonara with lots of cheese and white sauce. Dad even apologized he was not able to buy balloons for me. Isn’t my dad sweet? And my brother kept on tickling me just about anywhere, which was his way of lambing. Of course, my gratitude goes to my mom as well who secretly shopped and prepared everything. I gave her a big, big, big hug (though I know she deserves more than that). And my sisters too since they owned washing the dishes that night, without qualms. ! I felt so spoiled turning 23. All these people have made me feel so special and loved, during that day and even 364 days after. God knows I truly appreciate you today, and 364 days after too.

Thinking back, I knew that dreamlike state would vanish and I’ll be back to a tight-fitting programme. I realized that growing up is fun in a lot of ways but is coupled with responsibilities that grows more complex as I go through and hopefully even beyond the calendar numbers. Being 23 means constantly battling the strains of norms: what have I achieved for myself, when am I settling down, what do I plan to do with my career? The expectations are endless and it sometimes bear heavy on the shoulder. Meanwhile, being 23 also means having the excuse to be stupid to get wiser, to do crazy things to be sane, to get lost to know myself more, and to explore the world to delimit my priorities. It’s all about trying to learn things and discovering that I have learned too little after all.

At least at 23.

“it’s not life but death that binds us all” – Mohinder.

21 days after your death, I finally found the courage to write something about you. Your death is not something I could cry. But you know you made me sad.
I’m not sure if you understood that getting rid of you became a necessity coz I did not want you investing your feelings on me anymore. It never really crossed my mind that getting rid of you was just this easy. Die and wholla, you’re gone. Forever. This should be easier for me, right? But it’s not. You see, I wanted to get rid of you, but I never wanted you to die. Not in my most evil imagination have I thought of getting rid of you by wishing you death.
I’m sorry because you caught me lying a couple of times. Truthfulness had always been my principle, but with you I learned to lie. I was struggling to keep our relationship straightforwardly platonic coz I knew if I’d keep you as a “friend”, you’d fall all the more. But I did not want to push you away either. You don’t deserve such a harsh treatment. I was lost in my struggle and I ended up making lies and excuses. I should thank you for putting an end to my struggle right? No more lies, no more excuses, no more getting caught. But dammit, this is just so unacceptable.
I used to worry about seeing you again for our event. In my mind, I made up already all kinds of futile excuses so you wouldn’t suspect I am steering clear from you. But I believe there’s no use worrying now coz you won’t be there anyway. Not anymore.
True, I did not have a single romantic inclination for you, I’m sorry. I just can’t force it. But that’s not a reason for me not to feel pain. Few people knew how much I’ve appreciated you. I know you should know on top of everyone, but I chose to do it this way and I try not to regret. I feel angry coz I had every chance to reciprocate every kindness you’ve done but I simply let it pass coz I was assured you’d just be there always. I was wrong.
When you died, the rest of the world grieved with me. But they do not understand anything about this ambivalent feeling of grief and gratitude. I grieved for the loss of a good friend, yet I celebrated for you are now in better hands. In fact, you are in a better position than the rest of us.
When you were still here, I’ve always thought you’re the sillier one not I, though I know we had this certain common silliness denominator. Had you been alive, you would’ve remembered many things and some silly dates with your silly meanings on it. And I would laugh and roll my eyes over your schemes. Your death probably brought out more silliness coz I’ve been remembering so many things about you. You’re supposed to be the silly one remembering all these right?
I remember the first time I asked your name. I had a hard time pronouncing a simple teeyowdee (TEODY). I thought your name was ridiculous. I remember how Kai and I laughed at your panic-stricken face and your trembling hands as you were unable to play the North Cotabato presentation in my laptop. I remember how you got my number and my email and how innocently I shared it with you. I remember how excited I was when you invited me to climb Mt. Apo and how you offered to be the tour guide free of charge.
I remember how surprised I was one afternoon when you gave me the black cowboy hat I so badly wanted for Christmas. I never told you I wanted something like that, but you found a way to know. I remember your lame excuses to see me. I remember how I would laugh so hard and pick on you and your mushy remarks.
Then there were those time when you’d get really serious, though I know you’re very serious all the time. You would recount your hard times, then the good times. Then you’d tell a story about your mom, or about your farm, or your escapades. Then there’s a tale about how you fear your dad, about the little and big mischievous things you’ve done, about your colleagues and work, about your fraternity and your rescue team, about your successes and regrets, your plans; your life basically.
Then the image of your room would play in my mind – that Winnie the Pooh themed room got me wondering until now if you were really a man, a boy, or just gay. And then there’s your ID collection too from as far as you were 8 year old, and your humungous orange and white rescue uniforms, your boxing gloves, and an outrageous photo of your long curly hair while going topless in Mt. Apo.
Then you’d pull your little mischief on me every now and then. You’d tease me about what a scared little chicken I am. Then you’d crack a joke about me being one of your pet chickens, but the only one you cannot and can never tame. So I would challenge you to a fist fight coz nobody calls me chicken and you would just laugh at my seemingly silly idea.
Then I would laugh again at the irony of “us”. You were the giant but I could always knock you off anytime I want – whether it’s out of necessity or just the sheer pleasure of knocking you off. I was your little fierce tiger, never to be tamed. I was always your tiny one but never your underdog.
You always tried to make me happy. Whatever I want, I always get. I’d tell you to shut up, and you would. I would throw you a look and you’d back off. I’d tell you I don’t feel like talking to you and you’d keep your distance. It was that easy. Then you’d complain about me being mataray and spoiled but you never wanted to do anything about it. Because you love me being that way.
Then you would often tell me to take good care of my friends and befriend anyone that I could chance up to. Because it is during those unexpected pitfalls when these random friends will rescue you- that’s your usual reminder. The rule for you was simple: anywhere you go, be sure never to leave without making a friend. “Don’t talk to strangers” did not even exist in your vocabulary.
Once you told me you celebrated the 24th of October in 2008, the first time I talked to you two days after we’ve met (see? I told you you were mushy and sentimental) coz that was the beginning of our short-lived friendship. Too bad though, exactly six months later, 24 April 2009, you were already destined to crash and die, along with two others.
Yes, I remember. I am happily grieving and grieving happily to remember all these and so much more.
It’s a strange feeling to be lonely and missing you. I’ve always been accustomed you’re just doing your own thing somewhere far, yet I know you’re there. I know for sure now you are still somewhere far, probably doing your own thing still, but I know you’ll never be there anymore.
Somehow, I think it’s best that you are gone. You don’t deserve to be in this world. A person as good as you don’t deserve to suffer the cruelties of this world. This world, it’s too harsh, too chaotic. You’re lucky you don’t have to witness how this world is so fucked up with every kind of perversion you can name.
The next time we see each other, you won’t recognize me, I won’t recognize you either. Fair enough but sad too. Maybe then I would shake your hand, ask for your name, ask how long you’ve lived in heaven, and you would offer me a heavenly tour too, for free. But that’s only if I’m going to heaven. IF. I wouldn’t want to think I’d be in hell.
Your death reminded me to never slip every opportunity of doing good and sharing kindness to each other. Your death reminded me to enjoy and free my life from too much worry. You yourself excellently exemplified this lesson I learned ever since but never really appreciated and lived up to. Indeed, your death is a strange transition for me, for Tita Esther, and for the rest of the people who kept you dear in their hearts. Thanks Teody. You may have left a difficult transition for us, but I know this will all make us better. This should make me better.
Perhaps tomorrow you might buzz me again in YM or come to my dreams and talk to me. That’s okay, you’re always welcome to do so. Just don’t scare me, I’m your scary little chicken remember? I still can’t believe your gone. I don’t know if I’ll ever believe it. Your death remains unreal. So for now, as long as your memory lingers, so you’ll live.

Ladies and Gentlemen of the class of ’99..
If I could offer you only one tip for the future,

sunscreen would be it.

The long term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists

whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience.

I will dispense this advice now.

Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth; oh nevermind;

you will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they have faded.
But trust me, in 20 years you’ll look back at photos of yourself

and recall in a way you can’t grasp now how much possibility lay before you

and how fabulous you really looked….

You’re not as fat as you imagined.

Don’t worry about the future; or worry,

but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubblegum.

The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind;

the kind that blindside you at 4pm on some idle Tuesday.

Do one thing everyday that scares you

Sing.

Don’t be reckless with other people’s hearts,

Don’t put up with people who are reckless with yours.

Floss.

Don’t waste your time on jealousy;

Sometimes you’re ahead, sometimes you’re behind…

The race is long, and in the end, it’s only with yourself.

Remember the compliments you receive, forget the insults;

if you succeed in doing this, tell me how.

Keep your old love letters; throw away your old bank statements.

Stretch.

Don’t feel guilty if you don’t know what you want to do with your life…

The most interesting people I know didn’t know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives,

Some of the most interesting 40 year olds I know still don’t.

Get plenty of calcium.

Be kind to your knees, you’ll miss them when they’re gone.

Maybe you’ll marry, maybe you won’t,

Maybe you’ll have children, maybe you won’t,

Maybe you’ll divorce at 40, maybe you’ll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary…

Whatever you do, don’t congratulate yourself too much or berate yourself either –

Your choices are half chance, so are everybody else’s.

Enjoy your body, use it every way you can…

Don’t be afraid of it, or what other people think of it,

It’s the greatest instrument you’ll ever own..

Dance…even if you have nowhere to do it but in your own living room.

Read the directions, even if you don’t follow them.

Do NOT read beauty magazines, they will only make you feel ugly.

Get to know your parents; you never know when they’ll be gone for good.

Be nice to your siblings; they are the best link to your past

and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.

Understand that friends come and go,

but for the precious few you should hold on.

Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle

because the older you get, the more you need the people you knew when you were young.

Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard;

Live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft.

Travel.

Accept certain inalienable truths:

prices will rise, politicians will philander,

you too will get old

and when you do you’ll fantasize that when you were young prices were reasonable,

politicians were noble and children respected their elders.

Respect your elders.

Don’t expect anyone else to support you.

Maybe you have a trust fund,
maybe you have a wealthy spouse;

but you never know when either one might run out.

Don’t mess too much with your hair,

or by the time you’re 40, it will look 85.

Be careful whose advice you buy,

but, be patient with those who supply it.

Advice is a form of nostalgia,

Dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal;

Wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it’s worth.

But trust me on the sunscreen…

Brother and sister together we’ll make it through
Someday your spirit will take you and guide you there
I know you’ve been hurting,

and I know I’ve been waiting to be there for you.

And I’ll be there, just tell me now, whenever I can.
Everybody’s free.

*speech by Baz Luhrmann.

it’s a new day.

let’s forget what happened.

paint your face to look lovely.

brush your fragrant tresses to gain confidence.

color your eyes to hide the tears.

pin a smile to conceal your sadness.

put on your best garb to cover your bruise.

fit in your stilettos. walk proud and high.

parade your grace as if nothing happened.

weariness does not fit your schedule.

fatigue is not part of the itinerary.

you shall perfect this art, today.

tomorrow is another story.

perhaps a happier one.

My heartfelt and warmest greetings to twistedrumbeats!

On your first year,I wish you

… a top page rank.

…  a million hits by april

… million billion zillion hits by end of 2009.

… a very healthy anti-hack software

… a hundred entrecards per day

… a thousand advertisers

……………………………………………. woooo.. do i smell money here? haha.

i wish you … more money too, sans pornograhpy!!!!

yeah!  i repeat… sans pornography! haha.

may all my best wishes come true…

*blow some sparkling dust*

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