Thursday, October 16, 2008

Dilemma

“To be or not to be that is the question”  - I guess Shakespear captured in those few words how many people feel each day.

Life is a constant struggle to make the right and relevant choices. To think about the permutation of things, there are more than a million or even a billion ways on how we can define our lives by making choices. Every day we are bombarded with hundreds of them, while other choices seem simple and mundane, some are life changing and difficult. However, what’s more interesting is while some decisions which seem easy for some are very tough and difficult for others, vice versa. In a world which is full of differences, this idea is very different indeed.

As a very technical person, I grew up in a school of thought wherein decisions should be based on logical reasoning on how things would behave, respond, act or react to certain impulses or events. I was also raised to the law that deep reasoning should be put in place to come up with a theory and conclusion – “Reasoning far ahead for the outcome without still even seeing the end result.”  But this seems impractical for real life since this school of thought was founded on experiments and observations of things already proven.  How would this be applicable to my life, has anyone done experiments on it. Does anybody have a wild theory or even a hypothesis on how my life will go?

Given this in mind, I am now in a crossroads wherein I should decide where to place my destiny, the seemingly dark road ahead or the un-seemingly dark road beside it - both grey areas of untold fortune and outcomes.  Not being able to see what’s ahead is usually what troubles me. However, I also have another school of thought  - Persons who takes greater risks are usually the one who succeeds and people who usually takes a path least taken sometimes also turns out to be the winner.  However, some risk takers lose it all while some who take the path least taken end up in the dump. So where am I supposed to go?

Surrendering anew, I am now simply placing my chances to God’s greater will the One who has a clearer view on what’s ahead.

Tuesday, October 14, 2008

CAKE on the BENCH

I was in a hurry one late Saturday afternoon to change clothes and to do the usual things before leaving the house. It was just like any other ordinary weekend where my friends and I are accustomed to meet each other to collaborate on several pursuits we were already used to; eat to heart’s content, watch good and wannabe good movies, and an endless exchange of gray as well a green matters, ha-ha-ha. Five o’clock was my deadline because my friend Evanson will be fetching me up. I’ve decided to put on my newly bought semi-fit collared shirt paired with a year old Dickies jeans and sneakers manufactured by Mendrez which I bought just a week ago. Would it then be already self-absorbed if I still mention my Penshoppe belt? Don’t you worry, I still hold the principles of humility, after all, those are not so costly brands.

However, something struck my mind as I was already halfway through finishing my outfit exploit. What would’ve been so special that afternoon that I was very much excited to enact the already seemed like a monotonous routine during weekend. What would’ve been so different that afternoon that it’s like I was going to see old friends whom I wasn’t able to be with for a decade already. Then realization came next. My days in the country were counted and possibly that Saturday could already be my last.

I’ve got an opportunity to work abroad which I have not planned, not even last in the list of my priorities and aspirations. Almost all the people around me knew that I have been long standing on the ground of idealism and patriotism. My heart and soul had been telling me all those years that I had to help my country alleviate its economic condition, find ways on how to eradicate corruption in the government, and contribute bright ideas about turning the table of every poor family into something which can offer boost their human dignity, that is with sufficient food.

However, I admit I’ve lost in the battle. I lost because I have compromised one of my hard-earned principles to just work here in my country until the last drop of my blood and until the days eat up my youth. I lost because for a considerable period of time I may not be able to share my empathy and compassion with the plight of my common poor countrymen. Nonetheless, I may have lost in this phase of my life; I promise that I shall rise up to regain and win the battle. With a promise of success abroad, I pray that I would be back bringing with me the fruits of my labor which shall empower me to help my people in my own special way. The rest would then again be history.

So to go back, I was already settled with my apparel but Evanson was not yet in sight. Television really is a good friend when you are trying to ease out anxiety caused by boredom and untamed excitement. Not until one hour of waiting. Six o’clock came and my invaluable friend Evanson was still in his invisible act. The television was then still my refuge. Seven o’clock came. I reckoned that’s enough time span of waiting which means I had to give up my hard-planned outfit. Then just a few minutes I took off my Dickies jeans, FnH shirt, and Medrez shoes, Evanson arrived and demanded me to immediately change clothes. Isn’t it he’s nice?

We then headed to the place where we used to hang out back to our college days and even after we have already graduated. The place which almost all of my friends I met in college had been a good common vote whenever we ran out of idea on which place is best to go. There had been lots of memories in that place really. To mention some; playing billiards with complete strangers, diverse breeds of aliens and of course hot, just-okay, and never-mind gals with business intentions with the former and the next; a friend who suddenly puked while drinking a bottle of beer; and billiard balls flying in the air caused by a neophyte player, still a friend.

While on our way, I was a bit disheartened when I learned that most of my friends would not be able to show up because of some impediments. My spirit was then in oblivion with the only earnest thought that I would not be able to see most of my friends again, at least for one to three years. Good thing Evan together with a new friend Joel was around to brighten up the mode of my longing.

And then I smell the familiar scent as well as the unmistakably patented noise of the place as I hurried inside with my two other companions. Some people whom I’ve known for already more than a decade readily bestowed upon me their unselfish smile as I ambled toward the place near the billiard table. And suddenly heavens were opened; there in one of my favorite spots of the place I recognized several familiar faces. Yes some of my invaluable friends, Jervis, Glenn, Kups and Rizza.

It was a set-up, I guess. Glenn brought along a good measure of fruitcake more than enough for our feast and very clever it suited my concern for diet that I brought home the leftover. The pivotal moment was when the group brought out a sort of scrapbook where they literally invested time just to compile some of my solo as well as group pictures with hand-written dedications. And Evanson, the relentless committed convenor of the group, wrote a special tribute for our eleven years of togetherness, a heart-melting piece I may say, more than enough for Evanson to be vindicated for his late that night. Though I refused to give off a drop of tear, my happiness then was immeasurable. Still worthy to mention, though a bit disturbing, were pieces of masks with printed photos of my face. I don’t know if it’s because Halloween was coming, ha-ha-ha. Cameras were on and I knew that those pictures would again serve as evidence of camaraderie of good friends. I was soon to leave the country and the love and care which my friends showed to me that night were good reasons enough for me to come back home.

Caryl, the gorgeous momma of the group, as well as Mands, Carlo and Dean, in same way also gave significant part of the celebration. Then I went home that night with a feeling of joy and exuberance. And by the way, I was already wearing another signatured sweatshirt, a send off gift of Evanson, BENCH.

Sunday, October 12, 2008

Eleven – A Tribute to Friendship

How long is eleven years?  For a kid that might seem an eternity, but now, looking back it seems like a small bleep in the timeline of life. They say that when a man dies they see their lifetime flashback before their eyes. Now looking back I can say eleven years is really just a moment in life.

It all started on a hot October, it was 1997 and Y2K wasn’t even an issue yet. No one still cared about the millennium, 9/11, jihad, terrorists and the financial meltdown, things which hunts us now. All that concerned me back then was the upcoming presidential elections, where I was decided that I will vote for Roco - even though I was still years from being able to vote- and to be able to enroll myself for the second semester in college. Who would ever guess that this story would begin from that moment, a simple chat which led to the beginning of memories, people, connections, camaraderie and bond that spans eleven years?

The day began as another peculiar day, I was decided that I would finally enroll myself in Holy Angel University. I had already finished the process of submitting my application and since the next step in admission process was to take the entrance exam which I have already done before, I was already assuring myself that this was a sure thing. Being always ahead of time during those days, well it seems time had really changed now since usually I am late, I decided just to settle myself in one of the vacant classrooms. However, being a social character as I am, and not being able to dam up the contents of my mind, I tried to find a poor soul whom I can pour my heart out.  Who would have known that by certain swish of the wand of destiny, Marlon was loitering at the bottom of the stairs of the Main Building just opposite the testing center? Marlon, doesn’t look like what he looks now, I can still remember that just by simply placing a big piece of bling-bling around his neck would put him in ranks of Ice Cube, Nelly and P. Daddy. However, me being a poor judge or a good judge of character, I decided to have a little talk. I immediately told him that the exam was a no brainer and I am sure that he will pass with flying colors which as you can see he actually did eventually and the conversation went more until finally it was time to take the exam. After the exam, I just wished him luck and again reminded him of what I told him before that the exam, that it was easy and I am sure that we would make it. I really never thought that I would meet Marlon again. However, fate seemed to have already written our paths and come enrollment time, guess who was there, it was again Marlon.

Marlon, who I think was also a poor judge of character back then, willingly offered his friendship as well. Coming from almost the same situation – a transferee from a school from Manila, both irregular students, and kids undergoing a form of teenage rebellion or some sort of last stage teenage rebellion for Marlon, we decided that we would stick it out.

The group never really remained small forever. Two individuals wasn’t enough for the passion, desire and ideals of the Marlon and Evan tandem, so the Solution came into the picture, then with this event Jervis was in the picture, and the Three Musketeers /The Godfathers was born. Together the three went on their quest to make their mark on the world and make a difference. They set out their eyes first on the campus for the Solution wasn’t big enough to contain them. During their eternal quest for fairness, equality and freedom other people of shady characters and references joined the group - Caryl, Jem, Ambie, Robert, Kups, Glenn, Nina, Perlie, Cha, Arvy, Dean, Caloy, Mands, Ceejae, Thy, Ann, Joel  and Jen are just some of the people which were added on later.  The group went on to celebrate life - we ate, drank, dined and partied.  We also suffered setbacks, went into the lows and valleys on the journey of life.  We cherished and celebrated the victories and success of one and shared the pains of others. The collective memories of the group which can be recalled in a matter of seconds will take an eternity to write on a piece of paper.

The roster of people that Marlon and the gang shared our lives with couldn’t be contained within this page to its rims.  Some stayed on, while some of them left to make another chapter of their lives but the core stayed on. However, now it is time for one of the originals to move on and make their destiny.

Eleven years, looking back and recalling all the people that we have met and shared our lives with, I always think to myself, how can so diverse of a people be united and share a bond? Well, they say that people of the same feathers flock together, however, I think this isn’t the case for us. Yes, I think that some of us share some common passions and some even have the same interests – the command of the pen, the love for conversations, boring thru books, debating politics, studying history, Solution, taking snapshots of life, endless desire to lose poundage, parties and nightlife. However, looking deeper the connection that lasted eleven years wasn’t simply those things for none really shared the same passions. Pondering more, I finally thought that it was the bond of friendship which stuck as together a bond even stronger than brotherhood and sisterhood. Some say marriage are supposed to last for a lifetime, however most people say that true friendship last forever.

Eleven years with Marlon in our midst makes the Musketeers without Marlon not the musketeers anymore. The Gang without its de facto leader will always be incomplete-  the endless debates, conversations over cups of coffee, staying out till the dawn breaks will all be different without the Big Man.  However, unlike buildings, and other structures built by men, the structure and the bond that our friendship built together in eleven years only grew stronger. The eleven years of test didn’t erode and crumble the friendship but strengthened it further.

Looking back, eleven years is in the past they will always be memories that will be remembered and talked upon forever. Now, we are celebrating what our friendship had become and tomorrow, the future, I know that our friendship will last even longer. As a friend parts way, I know that the crossroad of life will always lead us back to where we always belong, to the Gang….

To eleven years and more….

Farewell, Marlon

No words could best describe my loneliness as I bid farewell to our big man. He may not be gone for good, but knowing that he won’t be part of our weekend routine creates a great hole in our hearts. This may seems an exaggeration but Marlon holds a pivotal role to this group. I don’t know what would be the weekends and the Sunday services like without him. It is indeed a folly to be overly sentimental, but I can’t help it.

Two things can cheer me up. One is the Marlon Mask. How unfortunate that I wasn't able to steal a copy. Second is this picture:




You are in my prayers Bro. May God bless you infinitely. See you soon.

Friday, September 26, 2008

On Getting Old

I celebrated my birthday yesterday without the usual handa and regalo. I wasn’t keen on having them either because I’ve been used to it for several years.

The obvious and most simple fact is the age has incremented another year. It basically means that I’ve been walking this earth for twenty seven years now, minus the number of infant months when literally my bones and muscles won’t let me.

The question that is rippling in the waters of my mind is how much have I already accomplished? Or better put, have I already live my life to the fullest?

This is a question I’d like to know how my comrades would answer.

School days are long over. The time when minds were abundant of pristine ideals and the urge to do things was strong.

Today, most of us or, if not all of us, are trapped in our own race to success. The kind of race I would consider more as a struggle to be free. If medieval era had their war, this is our own version of fighting to be free, to live more.

It’s not everyday that I remember the fancied stories of how my mother born me out of this world. She would rather gladly tell it over and over again. Yesterday, I ate a plate of spaghetti and a slice of cake to feel the essence of the day. The same date next year, I wonder if I’ll be doing it again.

Saturday, September 13, 2008

Wading through Low Light Waters

One of the things that I believe a budding photographer should do is to be part of groups of, well, photographers!

The list of reasons can be

^Get to know local people who share the same passion for photography
^Exploring the art through activities and gatherings especially with experienced shutterbugs. Those who’ve been there, done that kind of people are a good sources of priceless tips and information

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Just trying to make a Bleep

Bleep.... Hello everyone... It's seems all of us got a writer's block....