Friday, July 30, 2004

on my way home this morning, i got harassed by an *i-don't-even-know-what-the-fuck-he-is*.

what i really i wanted to share was my wonderful shopping experience but this fucked up thing happened.  i was on my way home from some filming (my friend's doing this mtv for this band and he asked me if i could appear) and as i turned left to congressional this whatever-he-is just zoomed in on his motorbike.  but there was a sensible distance.  there was no way in hell i could've even passed through the trail of smoke his muffler left behind.  but then i was shocked when he stopped his engine right there in the middle of the intersection and told me to park by the side of that dark road.  i was stupid enough to do so.  he claimed that i almost ran into him (which of course was so not true) and he flashed me that dilapidated DILG id. 

so he works for DILG, i don't know what he was then but i should've called him a monster just for the heck of it.  

for obscure, unspecified and inconsistent reasons, he kept on threatening me that he'll bring me to camp caringal (tough luck, i'm the one with the car, he's only in a motorcycle).  in the first place "almost" does not constitute an offense and maybe my fault is that i left him unharmed.  he got my mobile number, my landline, my address, my dad's work (he's a colonel, i said--which was true, he's an army doctor and he really is a colonel--but that revelation did not seem to have the desired effect on mr. DILG), my dad's mobile (which i did not give), my course, my id number and geesh even the name of my academic adviser.  (sorry sir j. neil!)  then he asked me to stick my tongue out. 

mystery goon: ilabas mo dila mo.

(i stick my tongue out.)

mystery goon: bakit maputi? nakagamit ka ba? 
 
me: umm...what do you mean?
 
mystery goon: drugs.  namumutla yung dila mo.
 
me: no!  (i open the light and stick my tongue out again.)

the fuck.  me, drugs?  does he think that i'd be this stunningly good-looking if i were high?  no honestly, it's a good thing i truly was clean at that time.  not even a drop of alcohol.  and the most ironic thing is that he reeked of cheap beer.  i don't know.  i had the urge to come forward as a brave jerk, but the thing is i didn't know if he had a gun.  my dad said i shouldn't have stopped.  besides the ones i've already said, he asked me many many more questions. 
 
very weird. 
 
i was actually surprised he left the part where he was going to ask me if i had a pet.  i was ready to say that i didn't have one and if he just sends me his resume maybe he could apply.  but i answer the useless questions in my typical hurried, irritated manner because i did not see the point.  he'd come back with "galit ka" and i'd say "of course not" in the sweetest way i could muster.  sweetest way.  i wanted to puke, and i wanted to puke on him specifically.  all the while, i was hoping for carlos agassi to pop out from the darkness and tell me "na-victim ka."

but carlos agassi did not appear.  i sound brave and unaffected but it was really scary.  i'm still scared right now--he has my contacts and where i live.  i'm scared that he might blackmail me or stalk me, ask for money or whatever.  i hope he really gets run over by a ten-wheeler transporting gravel and "panambak."  nothing glamorous like a car.  it should be a ten-wheeler transporting dirt.  i do hope karma takes care of him, and make sure he goes straight to hell where he belongs. 

because his was a really bizarre pick-up line.

posted by carl @ 2:26 AM 1 comments

Monday, July 26, 2004

the politics of friendship (a lament in multiple parts)

 
a mental condition waiting to happen
 
one thing about blogging is that it totally eradicates the six masks as articulated by (name of philosopher i cannot recall as of the moment).  everyone would be able to read what's written and same as in friendster, one's image would be all muddled up in the process. 

yes, it is true that just like most (if not all) people, charlie switches to different modes of operation depending on the company he's with, no matter how subtle these differences may be.   roughly, the major factions constituting charlie's delusional empire would be: the luckies, happy bench (sub-group: levi co.), craft peeps (sub-groups: heights and ph143), course friends and the bestfriend (who is in a league of his own.  hahaha). 
 
his swooning fans did not make the cut. 
 
it is a miracle how he has managed to be free from multiple-personalities disorder up to this day although his lapses in grammar and his fickle-mindedness could be indications.  wait, now that he's thinking about it, maybe he'd be better off with such a disorder.  the most tricky part, however, is balancing these groups.  time is the factor here, not comfort, preference or anything else.  in fact, he's learned the art of being non-committal, ditching the first to make yaya policy since he had observed that the more organized groups usually plan ahead of the others placing certain groups of equal importance to the disadvantage.
 
 
last night, charlie caught a glimpse of the life he had left behind in ateneo.
 
last saturday, charlie attended a happy bench party.  perhaps one thing he regrets about his senior year would be having had missed hanging out with them as much as in the previous years in exchange for the publications room.  in fact, he never got to go to any of the out-of-town excurtions--he missed tugegarao, quezon and at least 2 other trips and had to content himself with anecdotes and stories--because he had to do stuff for heights.  to some level, his friends resented this.  this is a point taken against him up to this very day.  but he had no choice.  of course he doesn't regret choosing heights most of the time because this was work he had committed himself to.  and the people in heights were cool too.  what he actually resents is the fact that he was made to choose.  ( i should stop explaining for him now, yes?)  
 
it is not seldom at all that happy bench had parties like these, and their sheer volume would guarantee instant good turn-out time after time after time.  to the outsider, happy bench would appear superficial.  they would break into small groups giving the impression that they were not tight  and solid.  (pretty much like a poem heights would chuck out during a delibs session.)  yet they were all social butterflies and if one would be observant enough, one would notice that they would do round-robins.  before the booze would run out (which rarely happens anyway), they all would have already snooped into each others' latest installments of deep dark secrets.  it's a phenomenon, actually.  and charlie wishes that that they could stay like this forever. 
 
but achieving forever is a tall order, considering how much lechon, kare-kare and other "edible death" (as levi would call these sinful food) he wolfed up.  the merlot, cheap dolce vino,  gold schlagger, beer and alcoholic whatnots did not help either--he was hoping to pass out before he got to eat too much, which happened not, apparently.    
   

it's funny how certain issues should arise years after they should have mattered. 
 
in a sea of good people (whom charlie all loves) such as this, there's a certain sub-group he was naturally most akin to.  for intents and purposes, we shall call them g., silver and levi.  charlie has been good friends with g. and levi since high school, while g. and silver have been together for like four years or even more.  as a group, they've been through a lot although the last time they (the lovers excluded) had been in a real fight amongst themselves would be back in high school.  
 
of course sometimes it happens that charlie gets pissed with any of them.  that is but normal, is it not?  but they would just somehow snap back to the way things usually were before anything major or apparent and irreversible happened.  at least in charlie's case, he had not harbored any pent up feelings or ill opinion regarding these dear people.  likewise, he's pretty much sure that neither had they.  
 
they pretend to be a matured bunch, you see.   in reality, as diverse as they are, perhaps the only noticeable thing they had in common is that they were all fashionably spoiled in accord to their respective means.  ((g. and silver: yes, we are all spoiled.  no arguments.))  and this, he thought, bound them together: unadulterated them.  they needed not pretend that they were friends for any reason.  they bothered not find out anything else they had in common except for the ones that just blatantly manifest.  they were simply, unavoidably, naturally tight.  
 
so they all went to the happy bench party together, stylishly in levi's "carnival red" jag which he named "alanis" (hahahaha).  before they even arrived at the scene, there'd been a cold war brewing between the lovers.  stupid charlie did not take this seriously.  no cautions were implemented; no special considerations and efforts at damage control was ensued from charlie's part.
 
charlie (to g.): pahawak ng yosi.
 
g.: lagi mo nalang ako ginagawang alalay.
 
charlie: sure don't mention it.  (not verbatim, but pretty much the same thought.)
 
(g. falls silent.)
 
charlie: i'll be important someday.  get used to it.
 
levi: so your really affirming it.  ginagawa mo syang alalay.
 
(charlie doesn't say anything.  g. tries to appease silver.)
 
g.:  may i borrow the keys, levi?  i have to get something from the car.
 
charlie: oh and get the book i brought for jong while you're at it.
 
(g. smirks.  he leaves with silver.   a million years pass and they don't come back.)
 
soon, levi and charlie found themselves following the two.  levi was instantly let inside the car.  (it's his anyway.  i don't think g. had much of a choice.)  charlie, however, was left out for a good minute under the drizzle.  (he was wearing a water-sensitive top.)   
 
charlie: open the door.
 
silver: ayaw ka papasukin ni g.
 
charlie: let me in godamit!
 
the air was thick inside the parked jag.  they left the party in lieu of a meeting reminiscent of high school days.  back then, they would cheesily call it a bull session, and it had last been done before they marched to pomp and circumstance some four years ago (not the latest time they had). 
 
silver: galit talaga sa'yo si g.
 
charlie: as in?  (laughs)
 
silver: seryoso.
 
charlie: o, baket naman?
 
g.: (conversation lapsed) feeling ko mababa tingin mo sakin. 
 
charlie:  (is dumbfounded.  he laughs again.)  ano?!  ano ka ba?
 
g.: nung una masaya na ko na hindi nyo pinapansin yung pagkakaiba ng social standing natin...
 
charlie: whatever!  ano ka ba!  why would you pay attention to such petty details?!  do you not notice the disparity between levi and i?!  (charlie taps on the jag's nice leather seat to illustrate his point.  the three do not seem to get this.)  and besides, i'm the one who's jobless!
 
g.: akala mo ba hindi ko napapansin na sa school iba yung trato mo pag magkakasama tayo sa labas?
 
charlie: well, ako di ko napapansin.  hello!  i'm really just like this.  diba, levi, when i meet up with you in school i'm also always late, or on-the-go?!
 
levi: leave me out of this.
 
charlie: (to g.) well that's not true.
 
silver:  g. confided me that matagal na.  you were classmates under dr. totanes but na-sad sya na you didn't even talk to him.  (later on charlie would find out that g. also expressed this disdain to levi, who advised him to talk to charlie about this.  but. g. chose to keep his mouth shut.)
 
charlie: hello we were like a million rows apart.
 
silver: if it were levi or louis or anyone else, they would've talked to him kahit once.
 
charlie: i'm always late and you're always usually the first one to leave.  you'd have me stand up in the middle of the class just to say hi?  okay fine.  sorry.  (still laughing.)  oh stop this, you know me, i never am serious!  that's why i love being with you guys, i could afford never to be.  i could just stop caring and i could stop being cautious with what i say.  tact is reserved for politics.  what we have does not involve politics.  (again, not verbatim.  this version sounds so less cheesy.)
 
 
afterthought
 
and a big reason why i am posting this in behalf of charlie is because he is hoping that g. would get to read this somehow.  charlie was forgiven that night, both for the things he did that night and for those he had done before.  but perhaps the only way charlie could say sorry to g. in the most appropriate manner is through a venue as public as where he has offended him in the first place.  the blog is not ateneo, but traces of ateneo lie wherever charlie spills his thoughts.
 
to g. (you know who you are): there is no politics between charlie and you.  you are simply two individuals experiencing the world together, though sick or eutopic it might sound. 
 
of course this does not mean that there is politics in any of the other platonic relations charlie keeps, or more so declares.  he would not have called it friendship if so.  this sets these liaisons apart from any other ones he may term otherwise.
 
 
(disclaimer: this hasn't been proofread properly)

posted by carl @ 2:00 AM 0 comments

Friday, July 23, 2004

the angel of the cross comes home

 
the world is make-believe.

everything we know of, we think we don't know of, we see, taste, or feel all do not exist.  and here would lie the part of an invented concrete experience to animate this abstraction. 

but nothing personal shall follow. 

the filipino captive in iraq has been freed.  this third world nation is rejoicing.  teenagers who finally muster the guts to break their curfews rejoice pretty much for the same reasons.  i am happy one life was saved.  i am sad that the rest of the world was not spared.  i am happy we were able to make a political statement.  i am sad that we shall soon face political complications, possibly incarnating in economic manifestations.   we are one as a nation.  now, let us watch as the terrorists take advantage of this weakness.

nobody won.  nobody ever wins.  this is proof enough. 

the world is make-believe.   

posted by carl @ 2:15 AM 0 comments

Tuesday, July 06, 2004

i discourage you to read this. this is a self-serving therapy session disguised as a blog entry.


"...i don't think you know me. i don't think even i know me. if you ask me who i am, i'd probably say 'when?' we die every moment. we always change." --dr. jb schriever


my saturday morning found me busy trailing away from the rather heavy lecture. i cannot even begin to describe how weird it was to be discussing how one man mourned (or still mourn) for his friends who have passed away before he does. (apparently, he is still alive) according to him, every friendship is built upon the presupposition that one will go before the other. and mourning is actually a reflexive thing. it's letting the world into one's relationship with someone, and that someone has left this world and will now only be in this world through that of his self in the one mourning.

well, who ever said that friendship is a simple thing.

but i digress. last saturday was a rather painful day. its nothing dramatic or anything. its just that i felt that i just wanted to reorganize my life a little. i have been sensitive lately and every little thing around me seems to be able to catalyze emotional reactions from me. i will not be ashamed that the ultimate trigger that finally caused me to fall from my rather lofty sense of self is the movie spiderman. (in a previous post, i have already confessed how film has strange effect on me.) i am not ashamed because the film inspired me. anything would have inspired me, and people get inspirations from the simplest (and cheesiest things) but perhaps the thing that should be ashamed about is not being inspired at all.

i didn't know where to start, and i didn't know where i wanted to go. i just felt that i was doing everything wrong at that point and that doing everything in another way could only possibly be a better way. MY LIFE IS A MOVIE. and one thing i realized is that it has no substantial solo scenes. i have associated the meaning of enjoyment with interaction. i have always paused for a while and thought that i wish (and in fact know) that things should be better. afterwards, i always choose to drown that moment with booze. i have always realized that my life is a blah. and continue to live it like so.

maybe we all get this sometimes. as human beings in this generation, most of us are bound to suffer from the curse of discontentment. and it is actually this discontentment that keeps us walking around in circles. but its actually time to walk towards somewhere.

i lied, i am not sixteen, i am twenty-two. and i have to get somewhere before i die.

everything i have said above is vague. in fact, i have acknowledged in the first line that this is nothing but a bunch of self-serving run-on sentences that seem to serve as nothing but as mental masturbation. and i apologize for having you read all that, if ever you still are reading up to this point. i chose to conceal too many details that any prospect of this entry to pass any formalist reading is as far as mars is to the galaxy nebula. but i continue to yap:

some hours before i typed this, i got to talk to javs.

javs: you know it's too late. i know you too well.

charlie: the human spirit does not thrive on success but on trying.

perhaps its too late and i am forever stuck to live this way: a twenty-two year old who does not know what it is that he truly wants in life. i will probably forever scrimp on my parents' dwindling estate and die not having anything to speak for. i don't take it against him that he thinks that its too late for me to change the way i live my life, cos if it was me whom i was talking to, and if i also knew myself the way he knew me, i'd probably say the same. but what came out of my mouth in response shocked me. i don't know where the hell i got that, or how the fuck i figured that out. i guess i am hoping.

if i die every moment i am hoping that i keep on reincarnating into a better version.

posted by carl @ 12:26 AM 1 comments