Da Kid Chronicles Two

Reincarnation is an excuse for humans to see life more bearable and death more acceptable.

Bodies wilt and die, but the soul continues it's epic journey.

Life knows no end.

- emo moments witnessed by the Wanderer.

---

He sat across the table next to a floor-to-ceiling glass window. His eyes fixed at the passing ladies in their white and checkered-brown uniform outside, their presence reminded him of our college days in a university not far away from where we were. It was late afternoon and the sky still heaved with rain clouds. Heavy showers threaten to fall again drenching the college lads in their polo and black slacks hanging for dear life on a jeepney's estribo rushing to get home.

"So kelan ka mag-aasawa Mugen?" He blurted out of the blue, while dipping a big stick of French Fries onto the catchup tray at the middle of the table.

"Huh? Hindi ko pa balak yun. Masaya pa ako sa buhay single ko, tsaka paano na lang si Mama kung mag-asawa ako?" It was a safe answer. Despite being buddies since college, I prefer not to tell my new sexual preference. Better for him to remember the old me.

"Sabagay." He sighed before picking another stick of Fries from its yellow carton container.

"Pero alam mo tol, rewarding ang magkapamilya..."

"Talaga? Paano mo nasabi?" I answered back, while taking a big bite of cheeseburger he bought for me earlier.

Brimming with smile, he answered. "Minsan kahit pagod ka na sa dalawang trabaho mo, makita mo lang si Jar na nakangiti sayo, mawawala lahat ng bigat na dala mo." I envy him for having a son as a firstborn.

"Nung minsang nagkasakit nga siya, sabi ko talaga gumaling lang ang anak ko hindi na ako magloloko. Simula noon, hindi na ako sumama sa happy-happy ng mga katrabaho ko"

"So diretso ka na kay misis?" I inquired. I also noticed the familar red and white logo plastered on the wall just behind him. It had a prominent image of a red-haired girl in pigtails."

"Iniintay ko siya matapos ng trabaho ng alas-tres ng umaga tapos sabay na kami uuwi ng bahay.." They were both working for a newspaper company. He, a Sportswriter, while his wife was a proofreader.

We talked about being the head of his family that afternoon. Our conversation was so profound that I almost forgot going to the gym. Being the first of my college buddies to settle down and have a family, he laid down the challenges of fatherhood like he's my own father. For all the years we've been senti partners, it was the first time he really got senti on me. Who would have thought that it will be the last time we would get a chance to have a heart to heart talk.

Because the next time we saw each other,

He was fighting for dear life in the ICU. His lungs collapsed from being too overworked. His brain scans also showed blood clotting just below his Cerebral Cortex.

"Okay lang ang lahat tol. Nandito na kami. Chill ka lang..." I whispered, while squeezing his feet. I was the last to approach while our other buddies started weeping outside the room.

Fifteen minutes later.

As we eat our dinner in a nearby Jollibee, my phone bleeped. It was a text message from another classmate asking for confirmations if the news is true...

...That our tropa had just passed away.

We rushed back to the ICU only to see his lifeless body being taken out of the room and into the waiting morgue behind the hospital.

Da Kid only waited for us to arrive before he made a graceful exit.

---

It's been exactly one year after he left.

But the pain of losing still remains.

Kuryente: How Joms Spent His First Summer Day-Off

Ang sabi ng mga ninuno ko, magbiro ka na tungkol sa lahat ng bagay, huwag lang ang usapang namatay.

---

Medyo mas maaga akong nagising kanina hindi gaya kahapon. Katulad ng nakaugalian, bago bumangon sa kama ay pipigain ko muna kung ano man ang matigas sa akin... para malaman ko ba kung pati si Batutoy ko ay handa ng humarap sa panibagong araw. Subalit dahil masyado akong atat sa aking day off, pinagpaliban ko na ang papisil-pisil at tuluyan ko ng ginawa ang dapat gawin sa harap ng computer. Sadyang anuman ang gawin ko, mahirap na yata matanggal ang aking pagiging makati.

Isda at gulay na Kalabasa ang aming pananghalian. Dahil hindi naman ako kumakain ng isda, naglambing ako sa aking nanay para makalibre ng Tocilog mula sa Bestfriends. Hindi naman ako nabigo, sapagkat simula pa lang ng araw, heavy na ang pakiramdam ng sikmura ko. Tamang tama dahil noong hapong iyon, alam kong matatagtag ang katawan ko sa gym.

Alas-dos ng hapon sa Diliman. Ramdam na ramdam mo na ang summer break dahil walang estudyante sa paligid. Kahit nga ang Sunken ay simot ang lahat ng tao. Kaya lang naman ako naligaw doon ay upang ipasa ang aking term paper sa Middle Eastern Literature na ilang gabi ko ring pinagpuyatan i-type sa computer. Wala roon ang aming guro at hindi ito naging balakid sa aking lakad. Nagtungo ako sa CAL Office upang dito i-submit ang aking papel.

Ayoko na kasing bumalik ng UP bukas ng umaga.

Nagtungo ako sa Santa Clara matapos bumisita sa aking unibersidad. Maaga pa naman kasi at tiyak na nagpapahinga pa sa kanyang bahay ang aking tuturuan sa gym. Hindi rin naman ako nagtagal sa loob. Ang mahalaga ay nakapagpasalamat ako, sapagkat kung hindi ako tumakbo roon noong isang buwan upang kumuha ng buwelo ay marahil hindi kaagad ako makakabangon sa aking depression. Saka na ulit ako hihingi ng intercession. Magaan naman ang buhay ko kahit paano at magandang pagkakataon ito upang makasukli naman sa kabutihan Niya.

---

Matagal-tagal rin akong nag-intay sa aking kasama bago ito nakarating ng Robinson's Place East. Hindi naman ako nabagot dahil kahit mainit ang araw ay naaliw naman ako kakatingin sa mga taong dumaraan sa harap ko. Di naglaon ay dumating rin ang tuturuan ko at kaagad kaming dumiretso sa gym niya. Medyo hapon na kasi at malayo pa ang uuwian ko kung papaabot pa kami ng gabi.

Masasabi kong malaki ang gym niya kahit ito'y nasa gitna ng isang exclusive subdivision sa Marikina. Sa ground floor ay matatagpuan ang mga cardio machines at weight equipment. Sa itaas naman ay may boxing ring para sa mga mahilig mag-boxing at isang kwarto kung saan ang mga members ay nag-aaral matuto ng Karate.

Libre ang aking work-out dahil bayad ito ng aking kasama. Akala ko nga noong matapos kaming magbayad ay makakadiretso na ako sa locker room. Yun pala, bawal ang nakatsinelas sa kanilang gym. Badtrip nga eh. Di hamak na mas big time ang gym ko, pero mas gusto nila ang nakapaa doon habang nagbubuhat ng barbell. Doon sa gym na pinuntahan namin kanina ay dapat naka-rubber shoes ang mga members. Mabuti na lang at nagdala ng extra na sapatos ang kasama ko. Masikip man ito sa mga paa ko ay ito rin ang nagsilbing daan para makapag-work out kasabay niya.

Sa totoo, malakas ang loob kong magturo ng exercise dahil ito rin ang mga exercise na pinerpekto ko na sa aking gym sa loob ng isang taon. Ang angas ko pa nga maglakad kanina eh. Paano kasi alam kong kahit maliit lang ang katawan ko, ang weights na binubuhat ko ay kasing bigat ng binubuhat ng mga adik doon. Ang 100 pounds na barbell at tinuturing na advance na para sa maraming nagbubuhat ay mani lang para sa akin.

Yun ang aking malaking pagkakamali. Tagumpay man ang mental conditioning ng Eclipse sa akin ngunit pagdating naman sa ibang gym ay matuturing pa rin akong newbie.

Anyway, nagsimulang mag stationary bicycle ang aking kasamang si Deathnote habang ako naman ay abala sa pagsulyap sa mga members na mas malaki ang katawan sa akin. Kung usapang adik lang naman ang comparison, walang tatalo sa mga adik sa gym niya na ang katawan ay parang sa wrestler ng WWE. Sa amin kasi, yung mga adik ay ripped at toned ang katawan. Sila yung tipong pang-swimmer ang body type at ang mga pandesal talaga ay umuumbok sa tiyan kapag nagsipaghubaran sa loob ng locker room.

Ang kina DN, halatang naka-steroids ang ibang mga nagbubuhat doon.

Tinanong ko ang aking estudyante kung meron ba siyang program na sinusunod. Ang sabi niya ay meron. Binanggit pa nga niya sa akin yung leg at dumbell exercises niya eh. Ngunit laking gulat ko nang malaman na ang program niya ay hindi pamilyar sa akin. Palibhasa kasi ay machine-based ang kanila at ang sa akin naman ay free weights. Ang kinalabasan tuloy ay higit na mas naging tameme ako sa aking dapat sana'y tinuturuan.

Babawi sana ako sa pamamagitan ng pagtuturo kay DN ng aking free weight training. Madali lang naman siya kung tutuusin. Ngunit dahil ako'y nasa unfamiliar territory, mahirap umiba ng ginagawa sa marami. Bukod pa dito, sikat sa aming gym ang mga bagong members na umaatras matapos ang kanilang first day of work out. Ito ay dahil sa takot na nabalian sila ng balakang, likod at pati na rin Spinal Cord na sa totoo ay arte lang. Pero dahil sa hindi ako kumpyansa na matuturuan ko ng tamang execution si DN, pinakita ko na lang sa kanya ang program sa pag-asang balang araw ay susubukan rin niya ito.

Hindi pa ako natatapos ng aking unang set nang biglang may nagtext sa akin.

"GM: My brother kapre* figured in an accident an hour ago. Our family will appreciate all prayers for the eternal repose of his soul. Details soon. Thank you."

Malabo ang dating ng text message sa akin. Pero dahil nandoon ang mga katagang "prayers for the eternal repose of his soul," kinutuban na ako sa ibig sabihin ng text. Habang si DN ay abala sa kanyang program, pumunta ako malapit sa bintana upang kaagad matawagan ang ilan sa aming kabarkada at itanong kung nakatanggap rin sila ng text message na kagaya ng sa akin. Ang sabi nila ay hindi. Para makasiguro, sila na ang pinatawag ko sa phone ni kapre upang malaman ang katotohanan sa likod ng forwarded na message.

Pilit ko mang itago kay DN ang aking pagkaligalig ay ramdam pa rin niya ito dahil sa aking napakalayo at paguhong mga tingin. Nahihiya rin naman akong ikwento kay DN ang aking sitwasyon dahil alam kong na-trauma na rin ang binata matapos manakaw ang aking phone noong huli kaming magkasama. Walang namang response galing sa phone ni kapre sabi ng aking katropa. Ayaw ko man i-forward sa kanya ang buong text message ngunit dahil sa kakakulit nito ay sinend ko rin sa kanya ang nakakagimbal na balita.

"Pare I'm freaking out here at work. Sana naman ay hindi totoo ang balita."

Noong isang taon lang ay namatay ang aming isang kabarkada matapos itong igupo ng sakit na pneumonia. Lubha kaming na-traumatize sa pangyayari at simula noong sumunod naming inuman, may extra beer at upuan na bakante na ang aming table. Ito ay para sa aming namatay na katropa.

Wala pang isang taon ang nakalipas ay namatay naman ang tatay ni kapre dahil sa heart attack. Kung tutuusin ay halos taon taon na may nawawala sa aming pamilya. Ang mabalitaan na ang pinuno ng aming tropa ay nadedo sa isang aksidente ay isang bagay na hindi namin matatanggap ng basta na lamang.

Hindi kami nagtagumpay sa aming career para lamang bawiin ng maaga sa buhay.

Pansin kong apektado na si DN ng aking personal na crisis. Ako naman ay pilit nagiging optimistic sa kabila ng aking mga naiisip sapagkat sa tatlong taong tinawagan kong malapit kay kapre, wala ang ni-isa man rito ang nagsabing nakatanggap din sila ng text message na katulad ng sa akin. Maari kayang nagtri-trip ang ka-pamilya ng tropa ko? Naisip kong ito'y malabo sapagkat alam kong sila ay nagluluksa sa pagkamatay ng kanilang ama. Hindi kaya may nagnenok ng sim card ni kapre at upang makaganti sa aking tropa ay pinagkalat niya na ito'y namatay? Posible, pero kailangan ko ng proof.

Nag-intay pa ako ng tatlongpung minuto upang magcall-back ang mga binalitaan ko. Distracted man ako'y pilit ko pa ring tinuturo kay DN ang mga silbi ng iba't ibang exercise equipment at kung paano ito nakakatulong sa pagpapalaki ng katawan ng isang tao.

Marami pa sana akong gusto ituro sa kasama ko. Ngunit alam kong sa sitwasyon ko noong mga oras na iyon, ang paghihintay ng balita tungkol kay kapre ang talagang pinagkakaabalahan ng utak ko at hindi ang work out.

Si DN na ang nagsabing tapos na ang kanyang training. Dahil ako naman ay durog na kakaintay sa kung ano talaga ang nangyari kay kapre, sunud sunuran na lang ako kung saan magsuot ang aking kasama.

Tumungo kami sa locker room upang magbihis. Tamang tiyempo naman sapagkat habang nagsusuot ako ng shirt ay biglang nag-ring ang telepono ko.

"Fuck, I should brace for the news." Sabi ko ng may halong panginginig sa aking sarili.

"Tol tawag dito. Nakausap ko na si kapre. Praning talaga yung utol nun. April Fools joke lang daw. Tangina, natakot talaga ako doon. Pare kala ko totoo."

Sa sobrang galak ay napamura na lang ako habang lahat ng nagbibihis sa locker room ay napatingin na lang sa akin dahil sa ingay ko.

Kung tutuusin ay hindi cool ang prank ng utol niya. Bukod sa nagmukhang tanga ako dito, kinuryente* ko pa ang ilan sa malapit na tao sa amin nang i-forward ko sa kanila ang text na natanggap ko. Ngunit sa kabila nito, ang mahalaga ay okey lang si kapre at naparamdam namin sa kanya kung gaano siya ka importante sa amin. Tama na ang malagasan kami ng isang barkada, ang magkaroon ng kasunod niya ay hindi na nakakatuwa pa.

Bago kami makalabas ng gym ay nakatanggap ulit ako ng message galing sa number ni kapre.

"Jay, am stil alive... Tnext ng utol ko. April fool day daw.. Di ko alm. Gago tlaga un. Sensya na.. Kitakits tau pagbalik ko. Prov ako 4 my dad's 40 days..."

Kung alam lang niya ang abalang dulot ng April Fool's joke ng utol niya.

Dahil sa ako'y shaken pa sa mga nangyari ay balak ko pa sanang tumambay kasama ni DN. Kasabay ng pananamlay ng katawan ay bigla naman akong nawalan ng gana umuwi ng bahay. Alam ko kasi na sa pagbalik ko roon ay balik sa dating gawi ang buhay ko. Minsan na nga lang ako magkaroon ng diversion ay hindi ko pa ito sasagad-sagarin.

Palakad na sana kami patungong bayan ng Marikina nang bigla ulit mag-ring ang aking telepono.

"Jay nandito sa bahay yung skycable. Magkakabit daw sila ng digibox." Kasambahay namin ang tumawag.

Pucha not again... dali-dali akong nagpaalam kay DN upang sumakay ng jeep na magdadala sa akin sa Santolan LRT Station. Hindi lang naudlot ngayong araw ang pagtuturo ko ng exercise kay DN, nasira rin ang pagkakataon na makagimik ko siya ng matagal-tagal na oras pa.

---

Epilogue: Sa pangalawang pagkakataon ay nakuryente ulit ako pagdating ng bahay. Napagkasunduan kasi namin ng customer service agent ng Skycable noong isang linggo na kukuha ako ng extra digibox para sa aking TV sa kwarto. Kapalit nito ay magbabayad ako ng dalawang libo para sa paggamit digibox. Handa na ang pera nang magkita kami ng technician kanina. Dalawa nga ang nakasaad na digibox para sa aming account eh.

To my surprise, sabi ng technician na parehong free ang dalawang digibox. Hindi na lang ako nagsalita at baka bawiin pa niya ang kanyang unang sinabi. Ang masaklap lang, napauwi na ako ng wala sa oras, problema ko pa ngayon kung paano ibabalik sa bangko ang perang nailabas ko na.

---

*Kapre - hindi tunay na pangalan. six footer na barkada ko noong college. moreno ang kulay ng kanyang balat kaya tinawag ko siyang kapre.

*Kuryente - journalism term. ibig sabihin ay ang mabiktima ng maling balita at makalat ito ng hindi sinasadya. Ex. Si DN ay may panganay na anak na lalaki.

Kalayaan

Alas-onse ng gabi.

Habang nakatayo sa tabi ng kalsada isang kanto mula sa Timog Avenue , nagkaroon kami ng mainit na komprontasyon ng straight kong barkada.

Ako: Gaano mo ako kakilala ‘tol?

Barkada: Kilala in what sense? What do you mean?

Ang aming pag-uusap ay nabalutan ng katahimikan matapos ko siyang tanungin tungkol sa aking pagkatao. Hindi ko sigurado kung itutuloy ang aking mga sasabihin.

Ako: Teka lang. Bili akong yosi.

Sinundan niya ako hanggang sa makatawid ng kalsada. Maaring gusto niya talagang malaman kung ano ang sasabihin ko. Habang nagyoyosi, patuloy na nananaig sa aming dalawa ang katahimikan. Sa pagdaan ng mga sasakyan sa harap namin at sa bawat paghihithit-buga ko ng sigarilyo ay naglalaban sa aking diwa ang desisyon kung aaminin ko ba sa kanya o hindi ang nalalabi at pinakatatago kong sikreto sa aming barkada. Ang pag-amin ko ay maaring mag-resulta sa paglaglag nila sa akin ere. Maari rin itong maging daan upang buo at walang pag-aalinlangan kong matanggap ang aking pagiging bading.

Ilang segundong katahimikan pa ang aking pinadaan. Sa loob-loob ko, patuloy kong pinag-iisipan kung tama ba ang aking gagawin o ito’y isang malaking pagkakamali. Naroon kasi ang takot na maaring hindi nila ako tanggapin. Naroon rin kasi ang posibilidad na hindi pa sila handang malaman ang katotohanan tungkol sa tunay kong pagkatao.

Sa anim na taong pagiging bading ko, naniwala akong hindi normal para sa isang katulad ko ang malayang makisama sa grupo na ang kinabibilangan ay puro mga straight na lalaki. Birds of the same feathers flock together, ang kasabihan nga sa ingles. Sa loob ng mahabang panahon, nanatili akong tago sa mga barkada ko, samantalang unti-unting namang dumarami ang mga kaibigan kong lalaki na tinanggap na sa sarili ang kanilang paghanga sa kapwa lalaki.

Ang sabi nga namin, walang masama sa pagiging bading.

Sa barkada kong mga dating gay-bashers, alam kong isang malaking kahihiyan sa kanila ang malaman na ang isa sa mga sandigan ng tropa ay isa rin palang bading. Sa takot kong isipin nila kung paano ko tinago ang pagkagusto ko sa lalaki sa kabila ng sabay-sabay naming pagligo ng nakahubad at pagtulog ng magkakatabi sa iisang kama sa tuwing kami ay aalis ng Maynila, nagdesisyon akong manahimik na lamang tungkol sa aking sekswalidad. Pinili ko ring itago ang tungkol sa akin sapagkat sa buong panahong bading ako, sila ang huling natitirang barkada ko sa mundo ng mga straight. Putulin ko ito't hindi lamang mabubura ang dalawang taong puno ng matatamis na alaala ko sa kolehiyo, magiging buo na rin ang pagiging bading ko.

Alam kong nag-iintay siya ng kasagutan sa kabila ng aking pananahimik. Sa kanyang matalim na pagtitig sa akin, ramdam kong malapit-lapit na siya na ang maunang magtanong tungkol sa aking maaring sasabihin. Upang maiwasan na ako ang tumupi, nagdesisyon na akong sa akin na manggaling ang aking pag-amin sa kung sino ang totoong ako.

I'm not straight pare.

Dineretso ko siya kung ano ang nais kong aminin.

Hindi ko man alam kung ano ang kanyang magiging reaksyon dito, naisip kong hinog na ang panahon upang ako'y lumantad at maging totoo sa kanila. Sa haba ng pinagsamahan namin bilang magkakatropa, marahil ay matatanggap rin naman nila ang aking pagkatao. Yun nga lang, ngayong wala na akong tinatago, para bang hindi na rin ako karapat-dapat tawaging discreet sa mata ng mga tagong bading na kilala ko.

Habang nakatingin sa malayo at pinag-aaralan kung tama ba ang aking desisyon. Nagsalita ang aking kaibigan, ang aking inaminan at tinuturing na pinuno ng aming grupo.

Matagal ko nang alam Jay. Matagal ka na namin tinanggap na ganyan ka.

Sa bawat pagbagsak ng kanyang salita, muling bumalik sa aking alaala ang sinabi ng isa pa naming kabarkada ilang buwan na ang nakakaraan. Pauwi kami galing sa libing ng isa naming kabarkadang sumakabilang-buhay sa edad na 26. Habang nagkwekwentuhan sa loob ng kanyang sasakyan, nasabi niya sa akin na masyado nang malalim ang samahan namin na kahit ano pa ako, kaibigan pa rin ang turing niya sa akin. Itong kaibigan kong ito ang nangungunang gay-basher noong kami’y mga estudyante pa at ang marinig sa kanya ang mga salitang iyon ay tunay na nakakataba ng puso. Subalit noong mga oras na iyon, hindi ko sineryoso ang nais niyang ipahiwatig.

Ang buong akala ko ay wala siyang alam tungkol sa aking tinatagong pagkatao.

Nalaman ko noong gabing umamin ako sa aking barkada na patungkol pala sa aking sekswalidad ang ibig niyang sabihin.

Bumalik kami sa club kung saan naroon ang iba pa naming mga kasama. Hindi na niya ako pinagpaliwanag sa aking pag-amin, at sa halip, nagtuloy ang aming inuman na puro buhay pag-ibig nila ang pinaguusapan.

Natapos ang gabi na kami-kami pa rin ang magkakasama. Naroon ang tawanan, ang walang katapusan at paulit-ulit na kwentuhan tungkol sa mga babaeng naging bahagi ng aming buhay kolehiyo at pati na rin ang mga lakad namin sa probinsya na sunuong namin sa ngalan ng paggawa ng aming proyekto sa kursong Journalism. Naroon rin na inalala namin ang aming kabarkadang pumanaw ilang buwan lang ang nakakaraan. Sa pagpupumilit na mabigyan ng magandang buhay ang kanyang asawa’t panganay na anak, kalusugan niya ang naging kabayaran dito.

Sa kabila ng aking pag-amin, hindi na ito pinagusapan ng buong barkada. Hindi ko na rin ipinaalam ang aking pag-amin sa kanila at sa halip, binigyang kalayaan ko ang aking ka-tropang pinag-aminan na siya na ang bahalang magpaliwanag sa iba tungkol sa aking desisyong itago ang aking pagiging hindi straight. Tatlong na taon na ang nakakaraan, tinanong rin nila ako tungkol sa kumakalat na tsismis na may nakakita sa aking nakatambay sa Malate, sa lugar na tinuturing na pugad ng mga katulad ko.

Noong mga panahong iyon ay hindi pa ako handang umamin sa mga tao. Pinagtanggol nila ako sa kabila ng katotohanang totoo ang balitang kumakalat tungkol sa akin.

Ngayong nabawasan na ang aking mga sikreto, pakiramdam ko'y nabunutan ako ng tinik na matagal nang nakabaon sa aking lalamunan. Mayroon man akong mga pag-aalinlangan sa aking pag-amin, sa huli'y ito rin ang naging daan upang buo kong matanggap ang aking pagkabading. Ngayong alam kong kaya akong tanggapin ng mga straight anuman ang pagkatao ko, matatanggap ko na rin ang aking sarili ng hindi nagtatago sa aking nakaraang anino.

Buwan na ang lumipas at sa tuwing maalala ko ang aking kalayaan mula sa aking mga straight na barkada, ang sisig na dati rati’y malansa sa aking pang-amoy ay biglang nagiging mabango at nakakapaglaway ng labi. Ang San Miguel Light, na kadalasan ay mapait sa aking panlasa ay nagiging matamis, alisan man ito ng yelo. At ang aming samahang magbabarkada, isang beses man kami magkita sa loob ng isang taon ay hindi na mababali pa.

Sapagkat buo na sa kanila ang pagkatao ko. Wala na akong itatago pa

Self Serving

Hi guys and girls of Journ 2002,

I want to suggest a project for our batch and to check whether you would want to participate.

I've discussed this with both [insert name of journsoc president here] and [insert name of journsoc secretary here] but more in detail with [insert name of journsoc president here] and they both like the idea.

What I'm suggesting is for us to organize a sort workshop/career day for future writers for AB students, most especially Journ students. We may also invite Lit students and 1st yr and 2nd year students para mas maraming attendees. My suggestion is to organize an event wherein we could talk to them about our career, about our work and achievements. It's to give them an idea or a glimpse of where they can be in a few years after graduation. So they will have an idea of what to expect and they would both the hardships and the rewards of a career as a journalist/writers. We can give them tips on how to get so and so job, what to do and what not to do.

So maybe we can begin with a few speakers from our batch and then proceed to a writing workshop. Plus dapat may exhibit tau of our works sa main lobby. Articles sa blackboard, ganun. Gandahan na lan un presentation.

I came up with this idea as one way to promote my book. Yeah, yeah, may book pa rin. hehe. Grabe sobrang nadelay diba.. But as of 2 nights ago, my publisher said that the printer advised the books would be off the press by October. Sana talaga matuloy na. If everything goes to plan, books will most prob be available by November, buy kayo ha! The Only Thing Between Us by [insert name of writer]. Ayan nabentahan pa tuloy kau! hee hee

Anyway, my original plan was I'd go solo but I figured I'm not the only person in our batch who has something to be proud of, in terms of writing career. I'm not the only one who has some things to impart. For sure mas marami pa nga kayo saken, lalo na sa experience. So I'm suggesting let's all do it. It'd be like a reunion. Sa exhibit, pede rin natin isama yun work ni Ace, to remember him, if you like this idea.

Sa event, we won't claim naman na we're so accomplished na. It's more of to really give them an idea kung ano-anong possibilities ang open sa kanila. May napunta sa news, sa sports, sa TV, may nag creative writing, etc.

Plus it'd be a perfect opportunity for all of us to promote din yun mga kanya kanya nating raket, whether it'd be your column, for me it's my book or mga businesses na meron kayo. For sure dun sa mga journ students, if talagang nagbabasa sila, I'm sure they've read some of you already and they'd be glad to meet you and to hear what you peeps have to tell them.

I'm including below yung email exchange namin ni [insert name of journsoc president here]. Basahin nyo na rin because [insert name of journsoc president here] mentioned a lot of really really good points. Read it from bottom - up.

Hope we all could throw in ideas about this and let me know who is willing to participate. If we're going to do this, gawin natin either December or January, kc I'm here in HK pa. Dating ako Dec 13 to Jan 6, pero pede pa ko paextend ifever masched ng after Jan 6, pero di ko na mababago yun Dec 13 na arrival date ko.

Tell me rin if u think it's a worthwhile cause or baka waste of time lang for us. I'd welcome all comments and suggestions.

Thanks peeps,

---

The nerve of you to suggest such idea when you never attended any of our activities.

I swear I would be your critic once your book comes out... I will exhaust all that I've learned in Literary Criticism just to point out the weakness of your novel or whatsoever.

And yeah, in memory of my friend and our classmate Ace, who quietly shared his knowledge and experience to those who wish to learn from him,

The one who went solo and then suddenly left us all when he's already at the pinnacle of his career and family life.

I will make sure that the entire PGC will never lend its support.

Dream Journals Eleven

Science tells us that there is an explanation for everything. Dreams, which falls under the category of mysticism is outrightly explained as a subconscious working of the brain. However, what if there are certain dreams that defy all logical explanation? What if the person involved in the dream conveyed some gestures and actions, which one's brain and subconscious thoughts may never claim as theirs?

The excerpts below reveal that death is not the end of everything; It is, like what the ancient mystics say, the beginning of something, science has never explored yet.

---

It was almost sundown, the tropa gathered in front of the Our Lady Of The Abandoned Church in Marikina for a mini-reunion. Then he showed up, standing beside the street. He was gleeful and in a happy mood. Strangely, the nostalgic feeling of being in the college creeps back to me. I don't remember how the meeting went, for most of the details were gradually lost after the waking consciousness. What I remember however is that I apologized to him for not showing up last night. He was quite displeased, but knowing him when he was still alive, he would not take things seriously. I even remember trying to shove him towards the bangketa because a jeep suddenly passed by, only to realize that he is not there anymore.

"honga pala pare multo ka na."

The dream ends after I asked him if he "sees wanderers like him." His mood suddenly turned serious and gloomy. As he stared in blank space, he nodded to me as a sign of acceptance. From the looks of it, he knows, he is not of this world anymore.

When I woke up, I was already thirty minutes late for work.

Da Kid Chronicles One

The sun was blazing orange amidst a late-june afternoon sky. The semester had just begun and being a junior in the Journalism major, one's social existence for the remaining two years of his college life depended on the people he would get chummies with during the first few months of the school year.

Darrell and Omar, the two tag-team buddies from the morning section the previous year, had just doused my burning desire to be the third wheel in their tropa. I was forcing myself too much on them, they said many years later, that in the end, I got into Darrell's nerves. "Kain muna kami ha," he said during one of our breaks. Being good in deciphering the subliminal message between the words he said, I understood that he don't want me for company.

Finding Leslie loitering in the corridor after the batman and robin partners dumped me, I tried to befriend him since he is the only guy in the class who had not found a social circle yet. Angelo, my 6'2 tropa from my section the year before, who had also chosen Journalism as his major was still nowhere to be found. Probably he had extended his summer break since that year, monsoon season only arrived in July.

In those days, boys tend to group themselves together especially if their class is dominated by strong and aggressive females. I must admit, we were just around 12 guys in the class including the two gays. (i have not yet crossed over the fence yet so I'm not yet included) But our pride and self-deceiving machismo made bonding among us proved quite a challenge. In fact, it would take another semester before the first solid group of guys in the class would form under the name Prestigious Group Of Companies.

A week later before Angelo showed up in class, a small sturdy guy around 5'4 in height, fair skinned and had small rounded black eyes sat beside Darrell and Omar. He was our new classmate. Leslie, who I had befriended gazes outside the door still longing for his barkada from his previous section to appear and check him out. He was still suffering from a "peer hang-over" and it would take another semester before he accepts the fact that all of them have new lives already.

That same week, I was given the chance to hang out with this new kid whom everyone calls Ace. It appeared that we had the same taste in music (Smashing Pumpkins), poetry (Short and full of angst) and even for being senti (He was not actually the senti, he simply rode with my whinings). One afternoon, as we walked along Espana to get a ride home, I decided to wait for him to get a ride first before I walk my way to Vicente Cruz. Suddenly he told me, "mauna ka na, hindi ako babae para intaying makasakay."

For someone who is used to wait for a companion to leave first before leaving the scene, his statement was very new to me. In the days, months and years that followed, he would eventually teach me how to become a stronger man.

In my six years of being a PLU, I systematically distanced myself with all the straight guys I knew, except for seven. One of these guys I kept contact was Ace. For 40 days beginning from this entry, I will include some vignettes that would reveal how deep and important my friendship was with this guy; that it even crossed the divide that I imposed upon myself when I embraced my new preference.

You see, people with different backgrounds or new ideals adopted, will stick together for the sake of some shared pinagsamahan moments that continue to burn their spirits. In case of Ace, he did his part in making me the person who I am today. In retelling some of our shared stories, which he played a major part on would be my own little way of returning the favor. It is my assurance that he will never be forgotten.

This blog, even if small and mostly unheard of, will be the key to his immortality in this existence.

In Passing

Memory
is like a machete
slashing you from within.
As scenes of bittersweet
moments fill you with emptiness,
you cannot help but ask
the heavens why he has
to leave so early
while you, who still remain
feels being left stranded.

---

- Composed in my N70 while waiting outside the morgue as Angelo says his parting words to a fallen comrade, too young to leave everything behind.

Sakura Blossom

Jay inatake sa puso
si Ace. Nasa ICU
siya ngayon.

---

Eleven Words.
One sad thought
between the lines.
One more reason
to shape up and take
a healthy lifestyle.
One more perspective
to see life as a mere passing.

How painful it is to realize
that we live only once.

---

- A vignette written while Mami Athena discussed the prepositions during our English 101 training this afternoon.

A Footnote ( Just To Let Them Know I Was There)

For whatever its worth, I think it was a good thing that I devoted eight hours of my free time yesterday keeping other people company.

---

I should have used those free hours to get that much needed sleep, but how could I say no to a guy that has been my tropa for seven years?

So, we hanged out in UST from 3 pm to 9 pm while waiting for his sister and mother who were attending a graduation activity in FEU. Another tropa showed up to join us for dinner before going to work that evening. When the two of us were left again, we devoted our entire conversation about how deep and great our barkadahan is. We traced back our beginnings and how the friendship almost never formed after he hinted that he didn't want me for company during the first few weeks of our third year.

Anyway it was a great bonding. I am sure that such surprise meetings will go a long way in strengthening our barkada. It will also reinforce my ties to the straight world since our barkadahan precedes my awakening. Someday, if they find out about me, I think preference will not be a big issue anymore.

But I don't intend to reveal myself yet. They're my last remaining straight ties and I want it to remain as long as I can.

---

The second meeting was an emergency call.

I had to see that person, lest I might end up singing "How To Save A Life" by the Frays.

It was an uneventful and somber meet, but a crucial one for her. She needed someone who would listen and give her advice. She was so devastated by her troubles that I even had to tell her a couple of times not to cry or we might create an embarassing scene at Starbucks.

Whatever her problems were is between us. What's important is that someone was there to give her a little comfort and encouragument.

I just hope that I left her in a much better state than before I arrived.

---

Carry all your thoughts
Across an open field
When flowers gaze at you
They're not the only ones
Who cry when they see you

- Augustana, Boston

Faith Hope Love (Act One)

Hope for the PGC

I went to a wake last night to show my condolences to a grieving college tropa whose dad passed away because of a heart attack some weeks ago. His dad was an OFW in the Middle East for almost two decades and was about to retire shortly before this tragic event happened. Since my tropa immediately succeeds his dad in becoming the new breadwinner of the house, I understand that he will need to draw his strength from us, being his only true barkada after graduating from college five years ago. So the moment we learned that his father's remains had already arrived, we immediately mobilized ourselves to show our support on the first day of his father's wake.

We arrived at Pateros shortly before midnight. We thought that the lamay had already started at a nearby funeral home. (the cemetery is just across their backyard) However, what greeted us the moment the tricycle arrived at my tropa's place was a sleeping household, with only our friend awake waiting for our arrival.

It turns out that since his father died in a foreign country. His remains were frozen while the papers were being processed for his long sad journey back to his waiting family. The paper processing alone took almost two weeks. Therefore, when his father's casket arrived yesterday afternoon from the airport, the morticians had to thaw his remains first before they could start the embalming process.

That's why there was no lamay to attend to when we arrived at our tropa's place.

So instead, the wake became a sort of reunion among the four of us. We mostly talked about our careers, our former schoolmates - particularly the girls who were linked to us during those times, the sexy controversial chicks from our college that saved us from boredom whenever we can't find any topic to talk about, and the highlights of our last class reunion (particularly the open forum session, which they find very disturbing after a girl classmate they used to admire was grilled because of a previous affair with her boss.) We all agreed that the next time somebody calls for reunion, our tropa might not attend the event out of fear that such open forum may take place again.

After an hour, another tropa followed. He was the one who got secretly married last year (which the three of us attended). Among the six of us, he's the one who rarely shows up when a barkada calls for a reunion. However since his presence was urgently needed last night, he decided to show up even if it means leaving his wife and kid sleeping alone in their apartment. "Maiintindihan naman ni misis eh," he jokingly said while pouncing at my back.

Since my other two companions haven't eaten their dinner yet, our host suggested that we go out to have a late night meal at a Tapsilogan near his place. Driving his Highlander, we sneaked out to go to this eatery which he claims to serve the best Tapsilog he ever tasted. Indeed, the Tapsilog was amazing, but what made our meal really good is that it was for free - our host paid our bill.

So we returned home, satisfied with our dinner. The guys resumed their endless talking while I just listened - with my eyes half-closed. They complained that I'm not participating - the guy who serves our tropa leader insisted that I should share some things happening in my life. But I wasn't really in the mood to talk so I just told them that I'm very sleepy and prefers to just listen instead. Besides I don't have anything to share that will interest them. Therefore, to fill up for my stubborn silence, they just talked about me and my stupid antics back at UST.

---

The truth is, I am quiet because there's a huge part of me that doesn't want to talk. After all, could they afford to know that one of their barkada who once joined them in their juvenile casa adventure in Bulacan would become a homo after a few years? Would they understand the heaven and hell that I've been through when all they did was to focus on theirs studies and work, while all I did was "soul searching?"

When asked by my other college friends as to why I won't reveal myself to my own group even if they'd surely accept me, I tell them that I won't risk losing my last remaining connection to the straight world. I'd rather let them see the old Joms, which is not really different from the new one - except for the sexual preference.

As we continued our late-night conversation, a topic was brought up about the closet guys they know in college like our Department Coordinator. A tropa said that he knew way before that there's something different in the way our coordinator acts and speaks, however, since he presented himself professionally, (unlike a professor in our Rizal Studies, who was rumored to hang-out in Ali Mall after his lectures) my tropa's respect for him never faltered. He even went further by saying that his principle in life has always been "to live and let live." If a person is different, so long as he acts decorously, it would never be an issue for him.

I don't know if what he said was an indirect reference to me. But if it is, then he just gave me the assurance that no matter how I turned up, he would always be my barkada. I've always known that the rumor about my sexuality has reached them already, but since I won't open up to them, they just do it in passing. His surprising assurance - considering that he was known to be a chauvinist homophobe back in college finally raises some hopes that I might probably keep my straight peers while living an un-straight life. A few years back, I never imagined that it could be remotely possible.

---

It was already past three and my companions were still talking about our growling Tigers and how they managed to beat the Eagles last year at UAAP. Their endless conversation could have go on - moving from one topic to another, if they didn't see me sleeping in one corner. A tropa suggested that we should catch some sleep, since some of them were already up in the morning. So the host laid the carpet and sheets where the four of them would sleep together.

If not for my work, I will stay until the casket is ready for viewing. Realizing that I could become a hassle by announcing my departure at the middle of their sleep, I decided to leave just when they were about to hit the sack instead. Of course, some of them protested. One even told me that "mag-absent na lang ako," since we rarely see each other. But I told them that my work load will be heavy today and I will need to use my VLs after Holy Week. They allowed me to go eventually without any more delays.

The reunion only shows how our overlapping lives continue to touch one another. A downfall of one, would mean the rescuing and lifting of others. Even before, when it was my turn to mourn, our tropa leader showed up at the funeral home the very night my dad's remains arrived from the hospital, offering his condolences personally and assurances that the barkada will be there to support me.

Three years ago, they used to call for an annual get-together so that we could see each other even once every year. Before, the very moment I received their invitation, I already had an excuse just not to be able to show up. My reasons then were born out of my need to get back at them and start a new life after they made my years in Journalism a difficult one. There were times before that I was so ready to forget everything, but our leader was determined to keep the barkadahan intact even if we have our own lives already.

One time, his determination moved me after I received a Christmas Postcard sent from Shanghai. It was from my him wishing me a great holiday. Considering how stiff and stoic he was back in college, such act of mushiness was unheard of. From that day forward, I vowed to show up whenever somebody calls for a reunion. Since then, I never missed any of our gatherings again.

The interment of my tropa's dad would be on Tuesday. I told them that I may not be able to show up because my work ends later that afternoon. It may take many more months before we would see each other again, since we're expecting that our tropa would sink into a long grieving period after his dad has been laid to rest. Nevertheless, after our show of support last night, I believe that we are meant to stick together for life

- even if we now live lives very different from what we were used to when we first formed the barkada by accident, to address a group project back in college.

Kiddo (Extended Midlife Crisis Version)

After exchanging private messages with my cyber "son" in G4M for several months, he suddenly sent me a text message last night. The text message was brief and full of kiddie talk. (aq, poh, bk8 etc.) But it was fun really, I swear. One of these days I'd treat him out so that I could get to know more about my adopted kid. I might even ask Roy to keep us company, now that I'm planning to introduce him as my kid's ninang.

Me: ...Hehe minsan pakilala ko sau ang anak anakan ko. Ikaw ang ninang ha!

Roy: Sige ate, para naman maformalize na ang pagiging magkumare natin.

I remembered doing the same thing last year after I introduced Gerumatori to him and Pilip. But instead, they accused me of being a pedophile and warned me about my actions. However, my intentions were true and uncorrupted. For several months Gerumatori called me "Mama Sara," especially after I introduced him to Phanks, who was quite suspicious after the introduction.

If ever there comes a time I would introduce my cyber-kid to Phanks, would he ever accept the role of being the mother... or just even tita to my "son?"

What would my cyber son call him, since as far as I know, he has several cyber "moms" in that website?

I'm not sure... however, I wish.

---

Him: Tol may aaminin ako sayo. Huwag na huwag mo itong ipagsasabi kahit kanino ha?

Me: Ano yun men?

Him: Napansin mo yung binatilyong dumaan? Pinapaaral ko yun tol. Kaklase kasi ng kapatid ko. Eh kaso mo, laging kapos sa pera kaya nagpasiya na akong paaralin na lang.

Him: Kawawa naman kasi eh. Kaya naman ng budget ko, isa pa, it feels good na may natulungan akong tao na magbabago ang buhay dahil sa akin.

And to think he used to be a Class-A jerk in our class.

The truth is, I wouldn't have suspected that he is up to something if he did not confide to me his great deed. He said, he is simply doing it to help somebody. In return, the kiddo cleans his car every week so that it wouldn't appear that he is a freeloader.

His decision to support somebody he doesn't know, and then keeping such selfless act a low profile reminds me of the late FPJ. Da King once sent a truck full of relief goods to a disaster area without his name or marks that would point to him written on the goods.

Anyway, my friend's graciousness to others completely changed my impression about him. Maybe I'm right when I decided to renew my bonds with my college tropa last January, now that I feel that they have become more mature and responsible with their outlook in life. I guess, it would do me good to hang-out with them more often now that I am beginning to ask myself whether I could still feel the vibe living a homosexual lifestyle.

Nevertheless, girls still bore me - especially those who are loud, shallow and very much immature. If ever, I would never get the chance to breed with an opposite sex in this lifetime - whether it be a desperate bright hag, a very naughty girl tripper, or a hot lesbian who decides to have a kid of her own, I swear, I would go to some war-torn or poverty stricken province and find a couple or orphanage who is willing to let me adopt a boy from their institution.

I'm turning twenty five two months from now. Apart from thinking about my career, the issue of continuity and genetic reprinting is emerging from my dormant heterosexual thoughts.

Seriously, I am beginning to contemplate about how could I possibly grow old, without being alone and miserable in life.

Two Worlds (Straight Mode: Second Act)

While driving along Quirino Avenue going to Roxas Boulevard:

---

Tropa 1: Imagine tol, five years ago, estudyante lang tayo. Ano bang pakielam natin sa trabaho-trabaho. Basta hindi mawawala ang kupalan sa loob ng isang araw, solb na solb na ako.

Me: Honga eh

Tropa 1: Pero isipin mo, ngayon nagmamaneho tayo dito para pumunta sa binyag ng anak ni pareng ________, ilang taon pa trenta na tayo.

Tropa 1: Hindi natin napapansin tumatanda na tayo. Maya-maya may anak na pala tayo tapos yung mga anak natin marerealize na lang natin, magcocollege na pala. Ang bilis ng oras no?

Me: Silent... Looking at the street children sprinting across the street.

---

The moment I left college, my first aim was to get as far away from them as possible and reinvent myself somewhere without their influence. I was so eager to sport a new image that for some months, while most of my batchmates including them were busy jobhunting in Makati and Ortigas, I hid myself behind the shadow of my dad's company. Many times, they would ask me to hang out with them, but I would pretend that I'm busy. While I was busy exploring my newfound sexuality, they were holding the remants of the group together, ensuring that years would pass and we would remain connected to one another.

The first time I decided to show up to them, I showed a great act of indifference. I deliberately arrived late for the reunion, and insisted on going home earlier than most of them. It was just a mere courtesy call to a group that I am trying to forget. In fact, when Angelo wished for us to have a last beer session at home before calling it a night, I initially declined to be the host. If not for the long and brotherly talk I had with another tropa (the guy who was married yesterday), I wouldn't retract my initial decision to deny then access to my place.

A couple of years had passed and things cooled down between me and my straight barkada. Last Christmas (or the Christmas two years ago), Angelo sent us a Christmas Card. Inside the card was a brief message reminding us not to forget PGC. After reading his letter, I vowed to support every reunion we would have as a group. Beginning with the toma session we had last February, I never failed to show up whenever they would ask for my presence.

---

After the reception last Saturday, my two companions and I agreed to spend the rest of the afternoon bonding together. Initially, I suggested that we should hang out in Tagaytay since it's much cooler there compared in Manila. However, they both declined my proposal citing that it's too far away from Kawit, Cavite.

So we went back to Manila without any destination to go. As we drive along Diosdado Macapagal Avenue, the sight of SM Mall Of Asia never failed to catch our attention. The weather was very humid and we thought that chilling out in a cool place would be a great idea. After I told them that I haven't been to SM yet, they outrightly agreed that we should proceed to the mall despite the ongoing sale there.

The mall is extremely big, just like what the press releases have claimed. Compared to the other SM Malls, the Mall of Asia was designed to maximize the breezy air coming from Manila Bay. Inspired by the Alabang Town Center, some boutiques are found in an open air location.

We strolled a little, checking out Nike Park and other sports shops in the area. My two companion's favorite item is shoes so we went from boutique to boutique checking out prices, which though affordable, is still are too painful for our wallets. "Alam mo tol, bakit noong college tayo, ang dali lang para sa atin ang bumili ng ganito." I said to tropa number 2. "Pero ngayong ang laki na ng kinikita natin sa trabaho, hirap na hirap tayo maglabas ng pera para sa ganitong mga bagay." With a smile that showed great irony, he agreed with me.

Realizing how stressful it is to mingle with the huge crowd, we decided to chill out in Gillis Island after hanging out beside the massive Ice Skating Rink. As we lounged and drink Cali Ice while waiting for the sun to set, music from Eraserheads and other local pinoy bands played on the stereo. Like a crossroad between the past and the future, the setting inside the bar was nostalgic without the traditional kupalan that we used to do before.

We parted ways minutes after the final rays of the sun were finally consumed by the nimbus clouds coming from the north. We vowed to see each other again after Angelo finishes his bar exams two weeks from now. They wanted it done out of town. I gave my assurance that as long as it would fall on a Saturday and that it would be easy to go back to Manila anytime I want, they could count me in.

After years of meeting PLUs and talking about boys, vanities, parties and divas. Such reunion with my straight barkada gave me a perspective to a life that I have long forgotten. Subjects like Basketball, PBA, UAAP, hot girls in the campus, girl perversities, which are some of the binding factors of the group suddenly become trivial and interesting again. Perhaps, I just found the reason behind the complete deletion of my Gethsemane entry several days ago.

Written there was a vow never to reveal my preference to any straight guy again. One act of discrimination from someone who I though accepts me is enough. Though my former tropa doesn't know about my sexuality. Hanging out with them and hearing subjects and topics, which my ears are not familiar anymore reminds me that...

There's a fascinating life beyond the homosexual realm which I belong to right now.

Two Worlds (Straight Mode: First Act)

He would call me pwet as a form of endearment at a time when I didn't know how to bend over in front of someone yet. At a height of 5'2, he was the shortest among my tropa, yet his assertiveness and maturity completely contradicts the small frame and simple impression people has on him during first encounters.

Back then, he was my senti buddy. We would spend hours and hours talking about life, if not about alternative bands or hot chicks in the faculty. Among my five tropa back then, he was the one who makes me feel at ease whenever we would hang-out anywhere. Even after graduation, his personal invitation to a barkada reunion would always convince me to show up, despite my hesitation to make an appearance.

We last saw each other the previous year. He asked me if he could take a shower in my place since he's been running between two major news events that evening. Before that, we hanged out at a bar in Timog to catch up with each other's life. Our communication was only interrupted after he lost his mobile phone in a taxi cab. Despite my attempts to reach out, the only person who has actually managed to find him again is another tropa whose favorite expression is Awww Shit back in college.

---

"Pare ikakasama ko talaga ng loob pag hindi nagpakita yang si Jay sa sabado." were the words he relayed to a tropa who called me last week to inform me of the breaking news.

As it turns out, our friend got into an accident involving a girlfriend. Prematurely, he had to settle down and establish a family earlier than most of us had expected.

But it was a top secret affair. Not even our other tropa knows the news. After I recieved his verbal invitation to his firstborn's Baptism, I immediately filed for a special leave at work in order to attend such very special occassion.

This moment is too important to miss. "Isa siya sa mga tunay kong naging kaibigan sa college," I said to myself.

---

He showed up this morning at the parish wearing a faded cream slacks and a light-blue long-sleaves polo shirt. A tropa had jokingly mistaken him for the sakristan because of his petite height. A stranger, on the other hand, who shows up in the baptismal would surely never thinks of him as the father. Being shorter and younger than his wife, he could easily pass out as the little brother of the girl.

Since we arrived earlier than the other guests, he asked us to stay at his wife's place while waiting for the rest to arrive. Back in college, nobody among us knew about his family nor his home. Being the quiet, mysterious type of guy he is, we took the opportunity to know our friend better by talking to his mother and sisters about him.

The mass started at past 11 am. For all we know, it was a baptism of his son. However the vanilla cake displayed on the buffet table back in his wife's place tells of a different event. Our speculations were only confirmed when our tropa announces to us that he's gonna be married as well. As it turns out, the event wouldn't only be the christening of his kid but also the exchanging of vows between him and his wife.

While he and his wife were kneeling in front of the priest, I took my camera out of the bag and started walking near where the huge statue of Mama Mary stands at the center of a garden, that serves as an open-air altar. Despite having an official photographer, I can't help but let my urge overtake me. Being the photographer and preserver of pictures of the group back in school, it would be a great loss to us if we won't have any photos to show our other tropa of this very important part of our friend's life - his marriage.

As I took snapshots of him and his wife, snippets of memories begin to reemerge as each images were captured in my digicam. Back then, I just know him as a mere campus writer who joined the four of us after we needed an extra member to form a group for our academic projects. Soon, we discovered that we have the same interest in old-school alternative music such as Smashing Pumpkins and Our Lady Peace. Our interest in music leads to other subjects until we were already comfortable talking about our perversities with girls. On the sidelines we would talk about sentimental things since he is a good listener and his advises were extremely insightful especially whenever we are out in the field looking for news.

"Ang bilis talaga ng panahon," I told myself. As my friend and his wife were signing the final documents of their marriage, I've realized that sooner or later, my two companions who were with me would take their vows as well. I would become a ninong to one of their kids in some forseeable future, not far from this day.

As for my future, it will remain uncertain for a very long time. Despite my clear sexual orientation, such moments like baptismals and marriages - and reunions with my straight tropa reminds me that there is another option towards a more conventional life. I could choose between being a heterosexual father or a lonesome homosexual guy who would grow old alone and die longing for care and company.

Unless Phanks and I would remain together that options for adoption would be brought up at some point in our lives

As my friend carries his baby around during the reception, all I can think of is carrying my own junior as well.

In my mind, I can almost picture the own baptism of my son, with PLU and straight friends in the same pews. In some alternate future where things are changed drastically by some triggering factors, somehow such dream still endures, especially when the dustwinds of aging begins to penetrate your skin.

Epiphany Inside A Diesel Engine Control Cockpit

Dear Angelo,

Remember the years when you used to lead us as a group? It was a very long time ago. Five years to be exact and probably you have forgotten the things that hold the five of us together. You might have already forgotten the school projects we have worked tirelessly day and night just to prove to class how good we are as an all-boys team. It was the best years of our lives as Darrell and Leslie once said; my thoughts however were at best, reserved back then because all I could remember is how you and the group made a clown out of me.

But you know what, after exerting so much effort doing my "Project Railroad" for our Final Requirement in the masters program, I realize how I missed the days when we do projects like this as the Prestigious Group of Companies (PGC*). If only I exerted more effort to make pakisama with you guys back then,

Things would have been better for all of us.

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It's been two weeks since I began doing this project. I have done interviewing people who lives beside the riles and people who rides the train everyday going to work and going home. But it's just a mere part of the image of what I am trying to paint in my essay. Unlike the interview and personal profile that I have written about Carlo Vergara, this one is bigger in scope and demands in-depth research and interview to ensure that I would come up with something that has a human drama written over my work.

Yesterday, after I have confirmed that my interview with the PNR Management would push through in the afternoon, I filed a sick leave that same morning. My plan was to ride the train and write everything that I would see while traveling. However, out of extreme exhaustion from work and school, and the lack of discipline, I woke up two hours late. Remembering how strict you were with deadlines, you will push us to exert more effort just to complete the job. To make up for the lost time, I reevaluated my schedule and dropped most of the dramatics. Instead of boarding a train in Tutuban while admiring the sunrise. I waited for the 9:55 train in Sta. Mesa to proceed to my first agenda for the day:

Visit the PNR relocation site in Cabuyao, Laguna

Alone.

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The journey took around 1 hour and 30 minutes from Sta. Mesa to Alabang which cost around 14 pesos when you ride the train. Compare it to the 45-minute ride from Alabang to Balibago Complex in Sta. Rosa Laguna which cost double that amount I paid going to Alabang from Manila and you would realize why a lot of people preferred the train for their mass transport even if its delayed all the time.

When I arrived at Balibago Complex, I had to ride another jeep going to Cabuyao, where I would take a long tricycle ride that will bring me to the land of no tomorrow - Southville. All in all, I spent more than fifty pesos going to the relocation site alone. Imagine how those people who lives there survive going to work in Manila.

You should have been there Angelo so that you would remember again the odd places we have been through while doing our school projects: In Payatas, six months after it swallowed hundreds of residents around the dumpsite; In Lemery Batangas to imitate how to work as a fisherman while Darrell attempted to become an Onion farmer for a day; At the Luneta Park on a breezy midnight scavenging for stories while thinking about our dreams for tomorrow.

Those were the things I remembered when I set foot in a no man's land this afternoon. Would you believe that half of the neighborhood had no electricity or jobs to sustain their existence? In fact, one thing I noticed about the people there is that they seemed to be restless even though there was a slight drizzle that afternoon. They said, life has been extremely more difficult since they were rooted out of their homes in Manila to give way to the rehabilitation and expansion of the railways.

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The interview was heartbreaking. While talking to these people, for a moment there I allowed my bearings to let itself lose in order to finally grasp what my sister and her group is fighting for. Paano ka nga naman makakapagsimula sa isang lugar na walang trabahong bubuhay sa iyo right? Even some of the basic services was not yet put up, four months after the government forcibly relocated the people there. Good thing, you taught me how to ask direct questions when it comes to these things. If I am just a mere so-so writer, I wouldn't waste my time and energy going to such very isolated place.

I left Southville immediately after I concluded my first interview. When I arrived in Manila, I went directly to the PNR Compound to interview the person who would represent PNR and their side of the story. My contact was Mr. Nierva and since he had a son who's taking up Creative Writing as well, I didn't have a hard time establishing rapport.

As Mr. Nierva talks about the technicalities of our Railway System, I could imagine the rest of the team writing notes or holding the video camera while you and I threw questions to the manager. Perhaps, we would ask Omar to take some pictures as well so our documentation would be more than enough to impress Mr. Cuartero with our output.

To tell you honestly, back in fourth year, I was having thoughts of stopping my studies. It's like since I already have a certain future running my dad's business, what is the point of going to school? However, since we preoccupied ourselves with exploring unconventional things and making stories out of them, it became a challenge to stay and finish school. Even though I was the most stubborn among your teammates, now that I am doing these things we used to do a long time ago made me realize how hard it was for you to balance things for us without directly scratching our egos.

Darrell, Leslie, Ace and Omar never opposed your decisions, while I, would always take the opposite side and insist on my suggestions. In response to my deadlock pronouncements, you have created a crafty way to get the mandate of everyone: You make us vote as a group. In the end, what turns out to be an uphill project for us would be considered praiseworthy, even in the eyes of the Varsitarian group.

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Remembering these things while inside the control box of a massive diesel engine which I got into through accidental conversations with a kid made me feel nostalgic about everything. As the driver maneuvered our locomotive through very narrow passageways overflowing with people and houses, which were just inches away from the engine, I could imagine your big shadow standing behind me. You should have been there as the train operator revealed to me his casualties along the tracks throughout his career. In fact, I could almost hear you say, "Ilan na ang napatay niyo manong?"

But because I am less of a hard-hitter than you are, I decided to forego such question and instead focused on lighter subjects that I could open up to the driver for discussion.

The air inside the Tutuban Complex was relatively breezy compared to the narrow streets beyond its walls when I was done with the interview. The sky, which was blue-grey when I first boarded the engine had already turned dark blue. Somewhere around town, you might have shut yourself from the world to focus on your review for the bar exams, which is just several months from now. Leslie and Darrell would have just left their respective offices to go home after a long day's work. Ace is probably editing his news reports while Omar is probably in the classroom still finishing his remaining subjects before graduating from Law School.

Our lives have drastically changed over the years. I bet some of our friends have even forgotten how to write a feature story by now. But you know what, these little essays that I do for class at present and in the future would always remind me of our glory.

Indeed, things come once in a lifetime. Back there inside the control box, all I could do is stare at the sky and long for the days when you and the group do these things for fun.

Hoping...

I would hear our younger voices echoing in the air, as the emptiness of the moment slowly creeps in to consume me.

*PGC, the name of my gang/group back in college.

Man To Man Talk

I would like to talk about a lot of things these past few days - from finding big brothers from my college barkadas, to my gradual adoption to the pains and time adjustments of my newfound work.

However, I am suffering from a writer's block lately and composing such paragraphs has become more difficult to me.

If my muse is with me right now, I would have shared my feelings on how happy I was having a bonding talk with our team leader on our way home two nights ago, or how I had my payback to HSBC call center this afternoon. The moment I told them in their face that I was already hired feels like I have avenged myself from four months of being subservient to their recruiters.

There were a lot of things I wanted to share, but I don't know where to start or how I would say it. Perhaps, I am little less inspired these days or I am merely tired to look for words. But my contemplation never ceases. It still gives me those little times during the day when I would just pause a little, and reflect on the things that happened to me.

It has been my guide, whenever huge changes are ongoing so that I would never be lost.

Probably next time, when I find the words I am seeking; when I discover once again how I would like to express myself like James do these days, I will write again long entries again. When I relearn how to put my emotions in this blog, the way I used to do... I'd let my stories paint a picture of my life I am living right now...

At this moment, all that in my heart right now is how I miss the life I used to have.

After dropping the phone after a long and senti chat I had with my PGC tropa last night, A wind of sadness blows on my face as I realize that no matter how I do, or how I try,

I can never bring back the time when everything was still play for me.

I can always try though, but it will never be the same again.

Writer's Block One

I don't know what to write...

It seems like the day ended so fast, I forgot the highlights of it.

Ah... wait, I know... I just remembered it now.

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The year was 2002. Around this time, a person may see me walking along the corridors of St. Raymund's Building having a brief but determined discussion with my profs. Perhaps I was again bargaining for a better deal for my classmates who are about to fail, or compromising for the deadline of submission of academic requirements.

Probably a week before, I have once again informed my very obedient classmates to make up their minds and talk to the profs about their risky subjects. Our faculty harbors a lot of politicking, but we as a batch emerged united as ever. I was the class president of an entire batch of journalism... and sometimes, I even let my VP or the society president take over the affairs of the class, whenever my presence would create a stir to those who envied us.

This afternoon, I paid a surprise visit to one of my classmates. She was one of the kikays of my batch and now, she's working as a writer for the lifestyle section of a national broadsheet.

"Maam (editor) _______, this is my classmate Jay, he was our class president back in college..."

Whenever my classmates would introduced me, they would always include the word "president" in their introduction. Ganun ba katindi yung impact ko sa kanila before? For all I know, one of my partymates from other major rigged our elections that's why I became the class president during our third year. There were two times, someone tried to overthrow me and during our class elections when we were fourth year, my sole conteder was the ABSC Secretary and the presidential candidate of a political party during the previous year.

And I've managed to stay afloat despite all that power and ego struggle, and the thing is, I never felt respected during the whole time I was the president. I even resorted to adapting a federal-style class management so that everyone, every leader of a subgroup/faction can have a voice when it comes to the overall class decision making.

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Two years had passed, everyone has a career to be proud of... we have scattered ourselves in every nook and every corner of the media world. In three years, we will produce two lawyers, in 10 years some of us may become a lifestyle editor/publisher.

Nakakatuwang isipin na kahit sa maliit na paraan, I made an impact to these soon to be big-time journalists. Sharing the distinction with our ever-loving and iron lady Society President... Wow! for a lifetime, someone would call me a president.

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Everyone from ODDERs kept on talking about Fyro and his "super kilig" love story, while reading their remarks, a smile seems to appear on my face. Hehehe, if the guys only knew, I already had a scoop the first day they met him. Talk about being a journalist. Hahaha, we're naturally born intrigeros and intrigeras. People wouldn't seem to notice, but sometimes, I'm very keen to details of a story - even make speculations about the motives of the story.

Pero shempre, what Fyro shared to me will always remain with me. Naalala ko tuloy yung newswriting professor namin talking about salsal, offtherecord interviews and news blockouts. Sheesh, I'm sooo connected to media na pala! I can even get to Malacanang or congress or other high-security places because of my media contacts there.

I feel the power mga tsong! Downside is, they know me as a straight and the limelight that I may enjoy soon really worries me. But that's another story.

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So Toinks is into doobie, and I think that's inspires him to be a very very good writer. Daya, bakit ganun, when I tried doobie the first time, I ended up having a rough and rouchy and super pervert sex with the one who taught me how to puff that organic thing... weird.

No wonder, the person whom I did SEB for the first time asked for more... too bad, we never saw each other again.

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Roy Parekoy seemed so uncomfortable when people call him bulaklak. Sabagay, when they tried to substitute na-joms for shonga... suddenly, I felt being outsider in the group. It reminded me of some things from my past life.

I'm sure you'll be reading this. Maybe you should consider stopping calling him bulaklak, no matter how cute and funny the term is. Somehow, he becomes irritated.

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I just read meng-meng's journal... hmmm... he's a better storyteller when in blog than in the thread. Nyeta, mas juicy ata ang mga kwento niya dun ah... Hey, I hope we'll have an awards category for the best blog. Hahaha, meron na akong vote kung ganun.

Keep it up meng, naks! nagiging avid follower mo na ako ng blog mo.

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People are complaining about the heat... Well it's hot, but my body seemed to adapt to it... Ah, wait, yeah, I almost got a fever this evening because of the extreme temparatures I have to deal today.

Reading the PEx thread... man, I got lost over what's being discussed. Oh well, I'll be able to make habol soon, I guess.

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... On the other hand, I can relate to what Kenzo is posting. Makijoin nga.