Letter #8: To Someone Who Stalks You

Hey you! Yes you, my stalker!

I was supposed to hit the hay when I came across your tumblr. No, scratch that. I intentionally visited your page to see if there were any new pictures, and surprisingly, I found an article instead. A long one. Something I wasn't used to seeing in your site. When I read the first line, Ah! I instantly knew it was mine. :-)

So, to make things different, here are the list of things I am proud about you:
1. You speak really GOOOOD English.
2. You write so well and you take snapshots even better.
3. You were never the spoiled brat even back then. You ate what was served in front of you, even if it was just Lucky Me or a can of sardines.
4. You speak French, German maybe, some Spanish I think?
5. You get paid. A LOT. Doing something you really love.
6. You appreciate simple things, like a random post, or a few messages over the chat box.
7. You dream big.
8. You take risks. Like joining this Sinulog Photo Contest. Ghaad, I don't have the nerves to be at par with some of the country's best. I know I couldn't measure up to them, or the standards of whoever you were working with. But you took some really good pictures, and while I was looking at them, I beamed with pride.
9. You laugh even at the corniest jokes. MY corniest jokes.
10. You take time to be with old friends.
11. You are not picky when it comes to people.
12. You always put your work first more than anything else, like the time we stayed at your house there; even if we slept really late, you still managed to wake up early, leave us a note on what to eat, and end the day with a few bottles of beer. Now, that's outrageous!
13. Actually, this list could go on and on and on. And I know I couldn't end it in a nice way. Hence, this picture.

May this image transport you back to when we were young, carefree, and restless. I know you are having the time of your life there, but I'm glad to know that even if we haven't said our hellos in months, you are still there. And rest assured, I will always be here. I got your back, buddy.

I miss you loads!

Letter #7: Untitled

Dear Duane,

Looking back, I could say we were never really close as cousins. You came by our house quite often then, and being younger than you were, I enjoyed things you didn't. You had your own, weird world that I had trouble penetrating in. You were meek and mysterious, I was observant and loud. You read books while I played under the sun. You asked me a lot of questions I never had answers to. You lived in a world surrounded by books, constant txt messages, intelligence and endless streams of tv shows, while I sat behind your back reading English books, playing with my siblings, eating what was left over the fridge or just plainly ignoring you. I was that person. I had always found myself the lesser guy between us two. You were intelligent, I was average. You always had questions to ask, I never had answers. You were ready for the world, I was naive. We were cousins, but we never were the best of friends.

The moment you finally talked to me in an unusual fashion was when the time I asked you to take that ride with me going to the city. I was there, behind the wheel, and you lounged comfortably beside me, speaking in a language new to me. You stripped me off my ignorance and silence. You dared me to talk. And so I did. And it was one of the most intelligent conversations I had for years. And I never thought it would happen in a one-hour car ride. It was sheer madness how you confronted me, yet pure brilliance the way you made me do the same. That happened a couple of days before you went back to Manila. And I thought that was it. I thought our conversations had come to an end. I never cared, nor did you.

Until last night. You talked to me again.

I am in a state of denial. I deny that my brother is going through a rough time. I deny that I am directly involved. I deny that I have to act. But again, you stripped me off my naivety. I faced you naked, with words coming out of my mind like bullets in a firing squad. And I never had the courage to stop.

Kuya, I had been longing to find that someone who I could talk these things to; who could understand the situation I am in and not say it's okay, because it is not. I wanted to find someone who would be as worried as I am, who is not ashamed to say that things will be going haywire because of its spontaneity, who will tell me that it is courageous to cry and be sad. You took me out of my oblivion and made me say the words I never had to courage to admit to. And for once, I sighed with relief. The problem may not addressed in the way I wanted it to be, but you being there last night made me sleep splendidly.

Last Saturday, Mama and I went to Church together and I felt some tension in the air. I had never prayed harder my entire life. I was close to tears, and when I opened my eyes, God was before me. Mama was there. And somehow, I felt peace.

Thanks, Kuya. You are my first hero this year.



Chim

I Love You, Whitney!

It's a new year, and what better way to start it than with a resolution. An absolute resolution. I need to shave off my drinking habits, and I am getting good at it. Now I spend my lazy afternoons after work watching TV, reading a book, browsing through old papers or just while away the hours going through stuffs over the net that catch my eyes. With this daily routine in hand, I came across Masterchef US Season 1, and Whitney Miller instantly caught my eye. Yes, the first ever Masterchef. I saw her through her struggles, criticisms, triumphs, and yes, I saw her unfold before my eyes to become the person she is now.

Ironically, I am not much of a fanatic. Well, until I saw Whitney. I idolize her, I fantasize about her, I dream about her. Actually, I LOVE HER! It had always been my dream to find a girl who could cook really well for me; who's young at heart, and has got the giggles every man would want to wake up to; who's got the smile that indeed could melt one's heart. I have been so passionate about it that whenever I watch her on the show, I could actually feel the way she does. If she's close to tears, then yes, I am, too. When she smiles, I smile. I could actually feel her near, it felt so surreal, so magical. She was so far, yet so near.

Here's Whitney, the type of girl I want to marry someday ;-)

The Year That Was 2010.

2010 was a challenge. It was a year I could not have gone through without having some people to lean on, and yeah, even in my stupor or drunken moments, they were there. The list begins:



mama and papa.
2010 was tough for these two. I had been the worst version of myself, coming home drunk almost every other night, been away from the house more than I have been in it. But even so, there's always my breakfast and coffee readily prepared to help me start my day. As for dad, I hit his car with mine. And he paid so much for the expenses, and as my gas consumption sky-rocketed to more than I could have afforded, they were still there. They are the best of friends, and my bestfriends as well. I love you to pieces!



chico, kai and pong.
The trio that are my siblings. Saturdays are never complete without us snuggling together in Kai's bed and watching TV for hours on end. Up until today, I still look forward to weekends because I know they're coming home and together we could watch a movie or two. And wake up to the scent of ice cream, or the lingering voices of these people who I really care so much about.



miradel bautista talaroc-capinpuyan.
My best friend who got married middle of last year. Together, Ading and JB defied the odds, gave in to life's course and somehow made it through the ups and downs. And now, with Baby Emerald slowly growing before our eyes, they are truly my couple of last year.



edrona faye s sena.
One of my closest buddies who I admire so much because of her wit, her intelligence, the nature of her job, her English proficiency, her talent in photography and the arts, and her down-to-earth, easy-to-get-along-with nature. She won Editor of the Year way back in high school, made it 2nd place to a National Contest, works now at one of the most prestigious companies in the country, but still, she never fails to attend high school reunions, small group gatherings that might be too pangkalye at some point, or take good snapshots of her inaanaks. She is truly superwoman personified.



aizza lyris c saab.
My classmate way back in grade school, block mate in college, the best friend of my ex, an acquaintance up until last year when I oriented her at our place of work. She truly is one woman to be admired. She could go from really high profile down to just a typical girl in seconds. No words could describe my katapat sa kainan. I miss you, babs, even if we're just a stone's throw away from each other!









my PMH family.
The best people who saw me through my struggles, achievements, failures, criticisms, success, drunkenness and sobriety. The people who never judged, who became my beacon of hope, who inspired me and made me the nurse I am today. Thank you, PMH family. You have been the light I was dying to see.

I know the aforementioned people are just a fraction of a greater whole. 2010 had been a whirlwind of emotions. And as I begin this year, I want this post to be a reminder of the person I had been. And who I had been with. I'm looking forward to more years with you together! If 2010 was good, I hope this year would be better.