Sp Ed

I miss teaching special children.
It's funny but they're more mature than most adults I know.

Ways To Kill Your Lover

Originally titled, Ten Ways To Kill Your Wife, my artist-bestfriend and I decided to make an illustrated book. I would be the one writing the text and he would be doing the oil paintings (there was a planned exhibit, too).

Why such a project? (I hope he wouldn't kill me for this.) That was the time when his wife-to-be got pregnant. Unknown even to me, he started seeing an officemate and they became an item. I have always reminded him with the saying, "Walang lihim na hindi nabubunyag." True enough, I found out. He later confessed.

With the guilt riding heavily on his back, he wanted to express himself artistically. Preparations were made. Research was started. I scouted for art galleries for the eventual exhibition. Everything was going smooth.

Or was it?

When I thought everything was ironed out, the officemate-girlfriend proclaimed to the world that she was pregnant. A real-life tele-novela unfolded. But the pregnancy turned out to be a dud.

The ending?

He went back to his wife-to-be and they got married and they live happily ever after. Sad to say, it never happened. This is not a fairytale.

He ditched the wife-to-be, hooked up again with the officemate and defied all practical advice. More than ten years with the wife-to-be probably got him bored. Or he probably grew out of love. Who knows?

What about the project?

I threw away the text I started, canceled the exhibit and remained quiet. Though I tried to contact him, he avoided me for a year. Everything suddenly changed.

The Lesson: A simple lie is enough to kill. It could start a series of killings.

Lying to your partner. Lying to other people. Lying to yourself. Serial killing by lying. It then mutates into various forms until you could no longer control it. That's just one of the ways.

As you would soon realize, there are more than ten ways to kill your wife or lover.

Waiting

my phone on vibrate mode
placed solitarily on a table, waiting
a single text or call, none
none at all, waiting

so i stared at the phone,
sending out thoughts
vibrate, vibrate, none at all

i pause, waiting
then i touched the phone
it moved

No Accident

While I was searching for an entirely different song, I came across this track. I instantaneously fell in love with it. I searched again for the whole album, prayed hard and with luck downloaded it from a torrent site. Now, it's forever stuck in my iPod.

I believe it was not an accident. Everything has a reason (at least for me). Just like the people we meet in the streets, in the internet or any other place.

The song, Kissing, with its zen-like approach to music and lyrics, reminds me that there's tranquility if I only choose to accept it. With every person I meet, the only barrier is myself. That's why I learned to welcome people in my life and treasure them.

Kissing
Bliss

The red light of the sun,
slowly descending.
The sky is all I see,
it's never ending.

We could fly,
you and I.
On a cloud,
kissing, kissing.

The wind plays with the leaves,
the weather turns colder.
But as long as we believe,
love doesn't get older.

We could fly,
you and I.
On a cloud,
kissing, kissing.

On a journey of the heart,
there's so much to see.
And when the sky is dark,
you'll be right here,
right here with me.

Right here with me.
Kissing.

(Kissing, kissing)
(A journey of the heart)

In Nomine

In San Beda (where I spent my formative and rebellious years) Latin is not dead. It never will be.

One of the earliest words I learned is PAX. It means peace. Obviously, because of the many places PAX is plastered, I was desensitized with the word. Somehow, I was oblivious to its meaning and its effect until later.

The other two important Latin words are ORA et LABORA. Literally, it means work and prayer. This is the guiding principle of the Benedictines and of Bedistas, too. The terms go hand in hand. While working you could pray. While praying you could work. Both words are never static. They demand dynamism but not craving for attention.

The fourth one I learned by accident. It is never overtly displayed in school. The word is SERVIAM, I will serve. How did I get to know about it?

You see, every end of the quarter, they give out special awards to so-called honor students. If you attain a certain average, you get a recognition card or pin. I am never grade-conscious. It just so happens that I enjoy reading. So, when tests (oral or written) come, I know the answer. All my classmates know that during exam week, I do not review. I relax.

So it was a surprise to me when my name was called. (I did not even recompute my grades when the report card was given. I just handed it over to my parents to sign.) I was hurriedly pinned with what would become a blessing and a curse.

The Serviam pin (I never wore it school. In fact, I kept it my cabinet.) was a foot-in-the-door for me. I never had any problem dealing with any teacher or administrator (until 4th year---hahaha).

But for all its glitter, it was a curse, too. My classmates and schoolmates tend to shy away from me. It was, as if, I had a very contagious disease. I was marked as a nerd, an uncool guy in school. Nevertheless, it did not bother me. I was a loner, anyway.

The biggest impact of the pin was its twin: the responsibility to tutor others. "What?"

That is what SERVIAM means: to help others. I did not regret it, though. Fast-forward to today, I am an educator.

Now, the concept of helping has branched out into a different direction: helping the CAUSE. You ask what the CAUSE is? Go to this site and be happy helping: www.graphics99.org

Anal Retentive or Anal Expulsive

Some people have a passion for collecting something. Be it stamps, cars, action figures, and yes, even lovers. Growing up, I never developed any fondness for accumulating things except for LP records. But they don't count since most of them were given to me. Even the CDs I now have were gifts.

A collector is someone who spends an unbelievable amount of time, energy and money. I have the first two but the latter, zilch.

So do collectors have anal retentive personality? I don't know. Maybe.

For sure, I'm not. I'm more of the anal expulsive type. Hahaha.

It's difficult for people to let go. But somehow I could do it easily. I'm not insensitive, contrary to what you might be thinking. In fact, I'm a cry-baby. Boo hoo! Rather than release my anger at someone or something, crying is my therapeutic process of centering myself. It helps me see the situations clearer. Not all crying is bad.

In the times I'm not crying, I would be smiling and laughing a lot. (Hmmm... serious case of bipolar disorder?) :)

Crying is a personal matter. Smiling and laughing is a social one. However, I do tend to smile and laugh at myself. Try it sometimes. It's also a way of releasing any stress (if you don't like crying).

So, you ask, "If you're not anal retentive, then why do you have a collection of Ferrari cars?"

The answer is: to give them to deserving people who likes them. Just send a heart-wrenching, tear-jerking, emotion-filled message why do you deserve to have a Ferrari? Otherwise, Sylar gets them all. Imagine a cool cat in a cool car. Hahaha!

Wait, should I give one to Willie R.?

The Powers That Be

When I was a child and all the rage was to be Superman (or at least like him) my secret desire was to have invisibility powers. Sure, I wanted to fly, too. But not with a cape and tights. Ugh! Too wimpy for me.

Being invisible makes it more fascinating. Imagine, being able to observe people and their natural reaction to things. What a sight that would be! I'm not a voyeur, mind you. Just wanted to be in the genuine state of humanity. No pretensions. Just being human.

Maybe that's why I took up psychology. Hmmm... or maybe it's a sign that I'm destined to be in solitude. Huhuhu! But I love interacting with people. It's probably one of the misperceptions about me. There are moments I want to be alone, that's true. But everybody wants that, too, right?


Okay, I admit that's my belt pictured above. I keep it as a memento (yeah, right). It's probably older that most of you reading this blog. Do you want it Paul? I'll send it over. Hahaha!

I used to have a Superman and a Batman costume, too. Alright, you win.

But i still want invisibility powers.

Mga Tula sa Pagkalumbay Pt 3

Mayroon kang naiwang singsing sa tukador

Masyadong malaki para sa palasingsingan ko

Para sa akin ba dapat iyon?

Akin nga kaya iyon?

Kay gandang larawan iyong iginuhit

Subali’t bakit hindi ko kamukha?

Hindi ba ako iyan?

Hindi nga ako iyan

Halos itahi mo na sa katawan mo ang cellphone

Text ka nang text buong magdamag

Wala naman akong natatanggap

Wala naman kasi akong cellphone


*****

Mahigpit kong hinahawakan ang bolpeng walang maisulat

Natuyo na ang tinta gaya ng mga luhang walang silbi

Hindi ako makausad sa isang salita na paulit-ulit pang pinahi

Naiinip na ang papel sa matagal na paghihintay

Matapos ang mahabang pagkatulala

Inilapag ko nang marahan ang bolpen

At dali-daling pinunit ang papel


*****

Bawa’t sulyap mo ay isang

hagod

sa pusod

ko.

Nakakikiliti

Nakatitindig

balahibo.

Mula binti hanggang batok

Para kang multo ng kahapon

Pilit iniiwasan

Pilit kinalilimutan.

Mga Tula sa Pagkalumbay Pt 2

Hindi mabilang na kudlit sa kaliwang hita

Isang daan at labing-apat sa nalimutang pagmamahal

Dalawampu’t walo sa tangkang pagpapatiwakal

Dalawampu’t isa sa pagsakal

Sa dangal

Isang dangkal

Na hiwa para sa

Hindi ko na matandaan

Ang natira’y para sa

Hindi ko alam sa iyo


*****



tumutunghay

tumutungo

umiiling

umuoo

ikit pakaliwa

ikit pakanan

hindi ko mawari kung

helikopter

o

turumpo

o

buhawi

o

tsubibo

ikit nang ikit

hilong talilong (gnolilat gnolih)

buti na lang may dala akong sando bag

*****

pinatay na raw lahat ng martir sa bagumbayan

hanggang sa palitan na ng luneta ang pangalan

mayroong nakaligtas at pinaghahanap ng batas

Mga Tula sa Pagkalumbay Pt 1

I like poetry. It is one of my cathartic activities. I write poems when I'm happy. I write poems when I'm depressed. I write poems when I'm angry. I write poems if I want to express something.

I'm at peace now (well, sort of---hehehe) but I want to share these so-called depressive poems. It's my way of letting go. Letting go of my past, of my solitude, of my heartaches, of my sufferings, of anything that have caused me pain.

It's a way of psychoanalyzing me, too. :)

isangpayaknapangungusap
parasaisangtaongwalangkausapdikitdikitwalang
patlangisangkuwentongwalangkuwentaisangistoryangwalang
katoryatoryapaulitulitinuulitsasimulasagitnasahuliisangpayaknapangungusappara
saisangtaongmayroonngkausapkulisapalitaptapsagabingmadilimpagsikatng
arawmasayanakangitiwalangkibowalangmalaywalangbuhayisang
payaknapangungusapparasaisang
taongwalangkumausap

1. naghihintay
2. naghihintay pa rin
3. makalipas ang isang oras
4. naghihintay
5. naghihintay pa rin
6. tatlong oras na
7. wala pa
8. wala nga
9. wala na
10. naghihintay pa rin

sa pag-adyo mo naiwan akong mag-isang naglalaro ng tumbang preso
lahat ng kalaro ko ay tinawag na ng nanay nila
sa saliw ng ingay ng latang pipi nagbabakasakali rin na may tatawag
sa unang hagis ay tihaya
gayon din sa ikalawa hanggang ika-labingdalawa
sa panglabingtatlo tumayo
napapikit ako at inihanda ang sarili
sa wakas may sumigaw
balot! penoy!

01-05 January

My good friend Paul (webwizzer) inspired and encouraged me to set up my own blog. But what am I going to say? Is this some sort of a confessional box that I have to divulge my deepest secrets?

Hmmm... Nah!

It'll be more than that. Hahaha!

We exchanged ideas on how to make the year worthwhile both professionally and personally. We both agreed that a personal project such a photo journal would be great.

So here I am armed with my trusty 2-megapixel digital camera (while Paul and I are waiting for our Nikon dream camera---sponsors anyone?) sought to answer the age-old question, "Who am I?"

I was hoping the year would start with a bang. But the fireworks sounded more of a whimper to me, begging incessantly to stop. "The new year would usher in even without the loud noises," the fireworks claimed. Wow! It's just the start of the year and the fireworks were talking to me. Maybe this is the year that inanimate objects would finally speak up. I'm listening.

Here the pics by the way.




Who am I?

It's first day of the year and I'm not home. I'm working on our directory. Haggard is an understatement.

What was I looking at? I was staring into the horizon, counting the lights on EDSA Shangri-La Hotel. Hahaha! Two lightbulbs busted!

I was actually thinking what lies ahead for me in the year 2008.

The second day of the year started with a sumptuous meal of tuyo threesome. I love it! The tuyo, mind you.

There are certainly surprises for the year. Even the white lady gave up. She retired from work complaining, "People are not scared anymore. I might as well marry my long-time beau. Hmp!"

It's a good thing that the sun is still shining. Wow! Look at that red ray. Laser beam?

Kapoy pa rin.

Every night before I close my peepholes, I contemplate on how my day was. I say a prayer of thanks for letting me meet good friends along the way (like Paul), for my family's safety and well-being, for accomplishing what needs to be done, for a lot of things, actually.

I also pray for a good dream. That is, if I'm not too stressed out to remember.

"I'll remember my dream." I keep saying it until I doze off into dreamland.

"Freddy Kruger please don't ruin my night. I have so many Freddy Krugers in my waking life already."

Day 3 started very casually.

Every morning I wake to see this unfinished painting. It's as if it's beckoning to be finished. It wasn't my project but I had to takeover since the original painter wandered into a different medium of self-expression, 2D and 3D animation. Takeover? Hahaha! I've never done oil in my life. Watercolor, yes. But oil paint? And this big?

Guess who's the nude model? He's lookin at you kid.

My brother and I usually share the workspace including the pc. Everytime I do computer stuff, I always see his things to do list. Hmmm... I used to have one before. Maybe it's time I bring it back.

The day ended casually, too. What's with the stare Jay? My golly-gulay, my face looks bloated. Argh! I've got to get myself in shape in time for my January 30 PULP magazine shoot. No kidding.

Jay, the nerd, woke feeling a little bit down on Day 4. "Will it be a slow day for me?"

Thinking nothing special is set for the day, I was hoping to get some more sleep when I realized, it's the first Friday of the month and of the year. In five days, it's Quiapo day!

So I hurriedly finish what needs to be done at home, ate brunch, took a shower and dressed comfortably for Quiapo. I was about to tell my mom I was going to Quiapo when she said she's going, too. Ahhh... my mom sometimes is so slow in dressing up. No choice. She's my mom. Hehehe.

Since the most common public transportation going to the dreaded Quiapo is a jeepney, I was waving for one when my mom hailed a taxi! What?! A taxi going to Quiapo? On a Friday? First Friday at that? No choice. She's my mom.

On the way to the church, we passed by my former workplace, Fast Earning University (FEU). No doubt about it.

Finally, here we are. The bastion of the Black Nazarene. Zooks! People everywhere. My agoraphobia is attacking.

Before we went home, I took a last shot of mom and me.

Day 5 was the last night before Christmas season officially ends. We decided to drop by Serendra and Boni High at Fort Bonifacio.

After looking at books at Fully Booked (which is heaven to me, probably after the Library of Congress), we strolled down Boni High cooling ourselves in chilly Amihan winds.

One of our favorite places in Serendra, Mary Grace, is home to delectable ensaymada and cheese roll. But having eaten a lot of pastries in the past, I opted for a beef fili, instead. Zooks! No Sangria iced tea. I chose Apple cinnamon iced tea.

The tissue holder sums up the whole trip.

Okay, it's overly dramatic. But hey, it's true.

Those were the first five days of my 2008. How about yours?

Be.

Be? Yes. Be. Why title a blog with such?

At first, I was at a lost what title to give my blog. This is my first time so I wanted something that would reflect who am I. I don't want something that's dramatic or thought-provoking. I wanted a title that would evoke movement or motivation or just a suggestion.

Looking back, I dreamed to be either one of the three: a priest, a doctor, or a teacher. I was an altar boy so it was natural for me to look up to the priests as models. But my interest in science led to me to think, I'm better off being a doctor. I was engrossed with the idea of becoming the doctor (or scientist) who would finally discover the cure for common colds. That was until I met a DJ in my junior year in high school.

I had three favorite radio stations back then: 99.5 RT, XB 102.7 and BM 105.1. There I was, station surfing when I chanced upon a DJ voice that was somehow relatively familiar to me. So I waited for the phone number and called up the station (KY 91.5). I asked him if by any chance he worked at BM. He was taken aback and asked how did I know. I simply answered, "I remember your voice." He was pleasantly surprised because even if he changed his radio name somebody remembered him. His name is Archie Crane.

By then, i wanted to be a DJ since I love music. Every Saturday, I would be in his booth answering phone calls for him. There were times, too, that I was the one who actually spun the records. Hahaha!

But I had a leaning for arts, too. I did not know how to draw but I appreciated arts. I wanted to be an architect. Whew! What am to be?

By the senior year, my parents wanted me to become a doctor. So, goodbye DJ Jay, goodbye Arch. Jay. Hello Dr. Jay? It was fine since I wanted to be one, anyway.

Before the senior year ended, I decided to take up Psychology as a pre-med since it evoked a sense of mystery. So much for objective selection!

Unfortunately, my parents revealed that they would be having a hard time putting me through medical school. So the next best option is to take up Master's, instead. My interest shifted to education. I entertained the idea of teaching since I wanted that, too.

To cut the long story short, I managed to teach special children and college students as well. No difference between the two groups. Hahaha!

Wait! You're asking me what I'm doing now? I'm involved in film and music production. What?

You see, I wanted to be a filmmaker, too. And a rockstar. :)

Be.