to a golden crisp
sun-roasted charlie
last monday i dashed to the beach. i fell asleep under the noon sun for a good two hours. now im red as hell. it is more often the case that we find out what we should not be doing after doing them... and the consequences will always be of first hand-calibre.
some weeks before i left the publications room, before i gave my key to my succesor, i posted a list on my staff's corkboard. a summary of all the mistakes i have done during my stay in college, a summary of things i am bound to repeat in a bigger scale:
THINGS IVE LEARNED IN COLLEGE
I've learned that you cannot make someone love you. All you can do is stalk them and hope they panic and give in.
I've learned that no matter how much I care, some people are just assholes.
I've learned that it takes years to build up trust, and it only takes suspicion, not proof, to destroy it.
I've learned that you can get by on charm for about fifteen minutes. After that, you'd better have a big weenie or huge boobs.
I've learned that you shouldn't compare yourself to others - they are more screwed up than you think.
I've learned that you can keep puking long after you think you're finished.
I've learned that we are responsible for what we do, unless we are celebrities.
I've learned that regardless of how hot and steamy a relationship is at first, the passion fades, and there had better be a lot of money to take its place.
I've learned that we don't have to ditch bad friends, because their dysfunction makes us feel better about ourselves.
I've learned that the people you care most about in life are taken from you too soon and all the less important ones just never go away.
I've learned to say "Fuck'em if they can't take a joke" in 6 languages.
I’ve learned that Theology, the study of God, is hell on earth.
I’ve learned that you could always screw your orals as long as you have the personality to captivate your teacher, and the clothes to compensate for you being a D student.
I’ve learned that it’s actually easy to please everybody, and impossible to please yourself.
TOUGH LUCK. What’s more is that I just copied and pasted this shit (except for the last three, which are original statements, and to my horror are drawn from personal experiences.) I HOPE U MAKE MORE OF YOUR COLLEGE YEARS THAN I HAVE.
and as john mayer said "welcome to the real world, she said to me, condescendingly...take your seat, take your life, plot it out in black and white."
i would have replied: "i have been in the real world, huny. it sucks here as much as it does there. u think its harder there because the problems are bigger; then again you've just grown too big to notice how small i am here and how my small problems knock me off my feet."
the tale of the s-2pid love
the tale of the s-2pid love
what better way to spend the most boring weekend of the year but in the most boring place on earth: the hot wilderness of poblacion, san isidro, nueva ecija. i tell you, the heat translates to vision. you know, when your vision gets distorted and all?
it was black saturday. christ was dead. for lack of things to do (throwing sordid stares at the old portraits was getting lame, and my weird cousins sleep at night and wake up during the day--can you imagine???), i indulged and accepted the son of our katiwala's invitation to get drunk
somewhere. that's when my night turned into a lino brocka movie.
(at this point, i deviate from my usual english banter sapagkat sadyang mas babagay ang filipino sa adventure na to.)
At iyon na nga. bigla ko na lamang nakita ang aking sariling binabatgas ang gilid ng highway. maalikabok, mainit ang hangin at madilim. malayo-layo din ang lugar. siguro para akong naglakad mula gale hanggang shang. "lampas lang ng konti sa pangalawang Caltex, sa tapat ng Flying-V," sabi nga ni k. (ang anak ng katiwala. kasama din namin yung anak ng isa pa naming katiwala na tatawgin ko namang j)
gusto kong isipin nyo to: isang mala-bahay kubo pero lupa ang sahig. sa may bintana may mga kumukutikutitap na pulang krismas lights na korteng bulaklak. bukod doon at sa higanteng videoke machine, wla nang ibang pinanggagalingan ng ilaw. Nabanggit na rin lang ang videoke machine, syempre ano pa nga bang tugtog ang sinasabayan ng isang probinsyanang pokpok kundi "paint my love." at gaya nga ng sabi ng pulang dingding sa entrada:
welcome: s-2pid love resto and videoke.
naupo na kami ni k, nilatagan ng maliit na tansong balde yung mesa. tiningnan ko: may lamang hielo. sumunod ang mga pale pilsen. sing init ng laway. kaya pala laging nagbibigay ng hielo. huling dumating ang mga baso.
si j, dumeretso sa likod ng kaha at nanligaw. mamaya, malalaman kong sinagot na sya. karay-karay ang isang karton na galing sa ream ng yosi, may nakasulat na "i love you. ingat." galing kay anna joy. gusto kong sabihin kay j na propesyon ni anna joy ang magpaligaw. pero kilig na kilig ang mokong, kaya nakisakay nalang ako.
itutuloy...
(syet ang hirap managalog!!!)
el pasyon de charlie castelo
el pasyon de charlie castelo
we are once again in the middle of the most boring week of the year and i do not know if i should be thankful for being gifted with neighbors who could easily claim for the embodiement of irony.
a brief background about them: they used to own a stripjoint along quezon avenue. their shack houses a good assortment of characters: three campy transvestites who come home so early in the morning (the sound of cab doors swinging shut and of mixed drunken voices of men and gays always succeed in waking me up), the village teen skank, the village junior teen skank-slash psychpath, and a pair of disturbed (and disturbing) children (one of which is an eleven year old boy who drives a minivan around the village). how do i know all these? well, if our househelp supply us all these info, i am just really afraid what vital information about us they supply our neighbores with.
at this point, you must be wondering where the irony lies. well, it has been their tradition, to my horror and utter regret, to hold a pasyon in their garage every holy week. my room is just right along the street we share with them and two out of three of my windows are strategically placed along this wall.
perfect.
for three straight days or so, i got drowned in the bittersweet harmonization of possibly grandmothers with loose dentures, scouring to give me a taste of how christ suffered by not just singing the story, but by actually internalizing it. yes, one could almost feel the lashes through their voices, and all these amplified a million times by what must have been the sound system they used to have in their strip joint.
i choose to dwell on this. the pasyon is a very interesting custom, yes. but what i'm really wondering about is why they choose to involve the microphone, the loudspeakers, or the megaphone? is this the insatiable thirst for mission work? to spread the good news farther, approximately up to until where the soundwaves could bring it? i don't think so.
a writer kept on saying that everybody wants to get into showbusiness. it is therefore my theory that everyone who could not (all millions of them) create a show for themselves. the pasyon is one such show. given this, and since i am such a catholic enthusiast, next year, i will be offering my production design/ events organizing services to my neighbors. pasyon 2005 will be the grandmother of all events, just watch out for the press release and the cd launching.
