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Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Brat pala si daddy

Libing ng lolo ko nung Tuesday. Pero saka ko na ikukwento ung tungkol sa libing. Ikukwento ko si daddy ko nung libing. As usual, may topak nanaman sya.

Sa magkakapatid, sya ung sweet, sya ung utusan, sya ung laging andyan, sya ung tahimik, sya ung emo, sya ung madrama, sya ung feeling bunso pero nagmamatanda minsan.

Sa lahat ng may kapatid, may nagmamatandang lalake, at may nagmamatandang babae. Sila ung nauunang pumuna, magpagalit, mag organize, at magpameeting.

Nung maghahagis na ng bulaklak sa binabababang kabaong, bawal daw ang bakal kasi kakalawangin.

Nakakuha si daddy ng orchid na may alambre. Ihahagis na sana nya ito sa kabaong nung pinagsabihan sya ng ate nya, “wag mong itapon yan, may metal,” pasungit na sabi ni tita.

At ang tatay ko, sa lahat ng pagkakataong maisipang magpaka defiant, ngayong okasyon pa. Tiningnan ang tita ko, binaling ang titig sa orchid na hawak, sabay tapon sa kabaong.

Pagka kulet! Sabi nang wag itapon eh,” wika ni tita. Si daddy? Walkout lang.

Pumunta sa ibang kapatid para magsumbong.

Ayan may kampihan nanamang nagaganap. Dahil lang sa isang wire ng orchid na pwede namn sana nyang tanggalin bago ito itapon.

Ngayon alam ko na kung saan ako nagmana ng pagka brat.


Thursday, January 20, 2011


Pahamak yang si kupido
di man asintado
tinamaan nga ako,
pero haging lamang sayo...

- Hanggang Tingin by Kamikazee

Friday, January 14, 2011


I've been making a list of the things they don't teach you at school. They don't teach you how to love somebody. They don't teach you how to be famous. They don't teach you how to be rich or how to be poor. They don't teach you how to walk away from someone you don't love any longer. They don't teach you how to know what's going on in someone else's mind. They don't teach you what to say to someone who's dying. They don't teach you anything worth knowing.

- Neil Gaiman (The Kindly Ones)

I wish I'd always have the right words to say.
I wish I'd always make a friend smile
I wish I'd always be able to soothe someone in pain
I wish I'd always be at the right place and at the right time to help

But in the absence of words, I use my arms,
stretch them as far as possible and crush the one grieving till they grieve no more

In the absence of a smile on someone's face,
I just cry along, in case he cannot cry anymore

In the absence of emotional painkillers,
I sit and hear each heartbeat, sharing the pain, wishing I could somehow take some of it

In my own absence, when I find a friend in need,
I send angels, hoping they do what I cannot.

Smile. Cry.
Then smile some more.

Monday, January 10, 2011


Each of us has a past and a present
a good side and a bad side

Love teaches us to embrace both (all).

good and bad.

past and present.

Saturday, January 8, 2011

Happy Birthday Dad!

I'll be away next week for a series of meetings so I'm reposting this just to greet my dad a Happy Birthday on the 10th. Happy birthday dad!


5 Things I learned From My Dad

1. A smile costs nothing but gives much. When I was young, my dad was the effigy of smile-dom, kinda in between clowning around and flirting about. Every time we’d drive from Manila to Batangas, he makes it a point to at least give a ten second chat with the toll fee lady. He’d usually smile and give out a short but effective compliment (“ganda mo naman, ngiti ka naman dyan,” he’d sometime say). It never fails even a stern looking lady would in the end give out a shy happy smile. (But at times, my dad's killer smile would give himself women problems hehe).

2. Sex is good but that’s not all there is in a relationship. I remember too well how we had our first talk about the birds and the bees. Often when I was young, my dad would stay out late at night on business deals while I am left alone in the house. It was in 4th grade when I first discovered how to put my hands into good use from a classmate. One time, I fell asleep in my naked glory with some evidence of the crime committed. He arrived and saw the scene, which started “the talk.” I won’t elaborate more as ya’ll know already about that. I learned much not just from that talk, but from all of my dad’s experiences, his failed relationships, to those that stayed, and those that he wished never happened.

3. It's nice to be important, but it's more important to be nice. My dad never competed with any of his siblings for the limelight. You'd probably find him just behind the scenes. He never wanted to be the center of attention, getting satisfaction while silently helping. He never expected anything in return even in times of need. Thus, whatever good deed he made, I was the recipient of the return... good Karma to the fruit of the tree. What the father sowed, the son reaped. Importance comes with mere awe and reverence. Being nice comes with all the blessings.

4. One must learn how to use things and love people, and not how to love things and use people. My dad used to buy all things beautiful when he was still a young businessman. I had Nintendo when it first came out, the first Pacman game, roller blades at its hype, matchbox toys, an airbed... the works, though surprisingly, I was never a brat (except only when he tags me along his dates). Then business went down. From a proud businessman he worked oddjobs just to keep me in private school up until I made my way to a Science highschool then again to UP. That's when he told me that nothing's permanent. All things come and go, specially riches... all things worldly. But people whom you loved dearly, and loves you back, would always be there by your side. Richness or rags. Through those times, he was never alone (though his pride would usually make him feel like one). He then got closer to his family and to God (the one who never really left). He learned that all things are replaceable (same line he uses whenever I break my lolo's china, yeah right dad, try replacing 'em atiques hehe), but those that God strategically placed in your life will be there to do God's purpose. To let you see the more important things in life.

And Lastly... I learned that...

5. My dad loves me soooo much. Tested through time. All through my childhood he was all together a father, a mother, a yaya and a driver. The cook, the laudry man, the iron man, but of course the dishes were mine. A friend, at times a foe, a basketball buddy (though I think I never really learned the sport), my roller blade/ ice skate watcher. My comic relief, my dramatic actor, my entertainer, my singer, my dancer. My carpinter, my plumber, my architech, my teacher.

When I got into trouble, he was my defender. When he learned I joined a fraternity, he was my silent advisor, but never a nagger. He respected my decisions, and had let me make my mistakes, though you'd see him eternally worried.

And with all these roles he religiously portrayed... I simply call him... DAD.

They say you can never choose your parent, but if given a chance, I'd still decide to choose him in a heart beat.

To you my dad, Happy Birthday!

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