pitiful souls

Upsetting.

My immediate family, together with my other maternal relatives, had a lil rendevous in CCP and in Baywalk last Sunday night. I was enjoying the evening when we chanced upon these male homosexuals who were doing their usual job in the place—hosting a videoke show in front of a live audience. What we expected from gay hosts did come about—there were lots of pranks and flirtings with the male spectators. What I wasn’t anticipating were the words that came out from their mouths—rude words…lots and lots of them. Accompanying those were, of course, uncouth actions as well. I wouldn’t have minded that sort of performance if there weren’t any kid in the audience. Those faggots broadcasted adult humour.

There was also an instance when they insulted this particular girl so bad that she almost wanted to cry and come down from that roach infested stage. Do you think its just for them to tell someone that she’s ugly, fat, dark, and stupid simultaneously? If the poor lass felt shoddy with her features before, I bet she felt shoddier after that night. I know. Call me prudish for I’ve spent eleven years of my life studying in a Catholic school which nuns preside. But no, it’s not just a matter of religious standards. It’s also a matter of moral principles.

We left the place later because we got so bored, waiting for my niece’s name to be called. She was supposed to sing. The fun part there was we were so many that the fags immediately felt there was something wrong. The feeling of triumph was intense in me. It seemed like we had just walked out from an awards night!

Seamus, my 3 year chat mate, was right when I related my disappointments to him yesterday—that wasn’t family entertainment. And all those ill-mannered criticisms directed to that girl—that was supposed to be entertaining? My cousin shared as we were going home that “Filipinos are a very difficult crowd to please.” There’s supposed to be nothing wrong with that connotation actually. But as what I’ve seen on TV and during that night as well, a lot of us now have a different meaning for ‘entertainment’. Entertainment is when sex stuff is prominent. Entertainment is when people get abused physically and psychologically.

Too bad people need to be impudent just to earn cash.

sayberserye vi

Rai suddenly looked up at her, her eyes turning big, “Something…behind us…” She murmured.
The other girls exchanged looks, noticing their friend’s ghastly expression. Slowly, they turned their heads upstairs, their hair standing on their ends.
Sure enough, a human-like figure stood still before them, its sharp eyes seemingly staring out in space in the dim setting. The moment it threw its gaze towards the girls, Rai’s flashlight totally went out.
Liz screamed. She pulled herself towards Kaye and tearfully dragged her eyes away from the silhouette.
“It’s…” Kaye spoke under her breath and tried to loosen her friend’s grip on her, “…it’s no ghost.”
Rai looked up closely and agreed, “It’s a man…”
“Well, man or monster, I’m leaving!” Liz broke away in tears and dashed into the living room, towards the door that leads to the patio.
“Liz!” Rai scurried after her. She threw a quick glance at her cousin, “C’mon!” Little did she know that Kaye had not bothered to move a muscle from the spot that she was standing on. Kaye just stared blankly at the dark figure that was then slowly floating down the stairs.
“La lumière… (Light)”
With the order of a finely-clad man, numerous levitating candles lit up and appeared to swathe the whole place. His footsteps then became audible, as if they belonged to a mortal.
“Ma sucrée moineau… (My sweet sparrow)” The man spoke softly and bent down to kiss the hand of the startled Kaye, “…Je m’en vais ce soir… (I’m leaving tonight)”
“Oh, Pierre… Please stay…” Kaye blurted. Nevertheless, she was flabbergasted of her words. She didn’t understand French. So how come--
“Merci pour tout… (Thanks for everything) Merci beaucoup… (Thank you very much)”
Inexplicable tears rolled down Kaye’s cheeks as she felt warm air encompass her. She sensed deep sorrow and yearning from the man that had just given her an embrace that seemed like his last.

second of three

Shay and I devoured what was left of the adoberz and Rai chomped on her footlong sandwich for dinner. We sat glued in front of the boobtube for News. TV Patrol had almost nothing but all those which seemed like pre-tributes to the then weak JP2. We undoubtedly felt more than gawky enough with the entire programme for we genuinely loved the Pope and the whole thing on TV made it seem like media knew what would happen to him soon.

Later that night, when all had taken their shower, F3 settled in their bedroom and thought hard of something they could do that time of the night. There was no stuff to eat because the Cheez Mania I brought along with me was downed earlier and the cola we bought during the afternoon was almost empty as well. Nonetheless we made do with the drink (although that left our throats still parched as file paper) and carried on. By the time the moon had already deeply hovered up in the sky, we gave in to Bam’s suggestion of going out to look for a mobile charger and water too.

The air was cool although steady and the place seemed empty. We tried moving out. The itinerary across the patio itself was already darned because there were lots of critters (sci.name: Lizardus Sabubongsis) sticking upside-down just above us. What we did? Well, Shay and I leaped our ways athwart, shrieking in the middle of the night. Whew. Done with level one. Then there was Doggie Doo, howling at us like mad (you might get the implication that this mongrel is Scooby Doo’s long lost kin, but no, they’re just plain ol’ surname-mates). We could’ve gone jostling our arses towards the gate into the then ‘world outside’, right past the dog, but no we retreated, sprang across the porch (and its reptiles) again and dove back into the house. No one thought of risking our cheeky rears to be bitten off by such bloodhound.

Devastated, F3 chose to go up and chill out in the terrace for a while whilst devising a strategy to flee from Doggie Doo. He was a dog yet the task before us was like escaping from a dragon! I could’ve suggested bombing up Mr. Doo when he starts to doze off (if he ever does) but I caught my self and tried to forget about sadism for a while. Up in the terrace we stared at the past 22 o’clock firmament studded with stars, which seemed to swathe the entire earth magnificently. Wow, we thought. Beautiful. Simply beautiful.

Later we went down and decided to get it over and done with the mongrel. Bam needed the charger badly! Even Shay did. And all of us needed water for sure. So we jumped past those lizards again, screaming, “Lizardussss!” and from a good distance waited for any sign that Doggie Doo was keeping an eye (or both eyes for that matter) at us. The hound growled and snarled from under the cars! Good thing some girl came from the house of the pad's owner and we pleaded that the former keep the pest away while we sneak by. Thankfully, she complied. Whew. Level two done!

Before completely stepping out of the lot, we checked on the proprietress if they had water to sell and a charger to lend us. They had H2O but not the other. We left it at that and moved on. The streets were still in the middle of the deep night in spite of the numerous lights around. We walked up the ascending path towards the main road to look for our so-called necessities.

Up there, we didn’t have any luck either. We just stood by the roadside lookin at a group of youngstas who wanted to get inside Picnic Grove (in what seemed like the deepest hour of the night!). They weren’t allowed to enter through the exit though (but F3 did that! Tito Rey told us to!).

After a while, we returned back to our rented crib and decided to buy water from our landlady as well. Bubble gang was up on the telly so we didn’t really came home to a bore when you think of it. We called it a night soon…actually we just had forty winks one by one.

update

ive made an account in blogdrive (oof! plug-in! plug-in!) for my bestmaties and i.

it's supposed to be our online journal. tee-hee, i remembered our scribbles in those notebooks over a year ago. ah! those were the days of the carters, gatelies, keatings, and the reads...et cetera, et cetera. but now it's a change of environment. as ive posted today there, i proclaimed ''we're goin tech!"

right.

oh well, i aint coming to training today. and probably not tomorrow...nor the next day...heck, i'm all sloth again! and i told tj that he was right all along about my feelings for the sport. and i told him i was still enjoying soccer. rubbish. oh when will i ever truly enjoy football? maybe Ja and Footie have been trying too hard to fall for each other. Maybe they just werent meant to be. Aww.

Mom, Ron, and nanay went off to bacoor to spend a night or two there. i didnt come with them coz sarah aint either. geez. i think i got the grammar wrong there.

guess that ends here. later i'll be working on the second part of my post about our tagaytay getaway last april fools' so that i could post it here soon. ciao!

sayberserye v

“It doesn’t want to…” Kaye’s voice resounded uneasily, “It’s hard to—Oh my gosh… Oh my gosh…”
“What is it?” Liz asked, still holding on to Rai’s arm.
Kaye scrambled to her feet and stepped away from the Ouija. From the open space, the girls saw the planchette spinning wildly around the board. A ruddy spark shot up from the dead wick of the candle nearby. The girls gasped.
“Call Chad… or you Mom…” Liz felt her heart skip a beat. She reached for her phone from inside her jacket and gave it to Kaye, “Call anyone now!”
“But… But I don’t…” Kaye held the mobile with her dank hands, “I think it’s better to get out of the house.”
“What?!” Liz seemed uncertain.
The window burst open and the curtains flew seamlessly with the howl of icy airstream into the room. The beam of the flashlight Rai was holding flickered. A soft wail echoed from a distance.
Slowly it grew louder.
Clearer.
Nearer.
“Let’s go!” Rai shouted as she grabbed Liz’s wrist.
Kaye followed her friends and the three dashed out of the room just when the door had shut behind them with a slam. The girls were already more than half-way down the stairs when Rai, who was leading the way, stopped dead in her tracks.
“I felt something.” She panted, “As if it went through me…”
Kaye moved a few steps downwards, “Let’s deal with that later. We gotta move out of here.”
“C’mon, Rai!” Liz cried out when her friend didn’t budge. “There’s a bad something behind us, remember?”
Rai suddenly looked up at her, her eyes turning big, “Something…behind us…” She murmured.

first of three

This may seem real late and all but still, I’m jotting these down coz that Tagaytay trip is indeed worth remembering. It aint the one last December although that vacation also etched significant memories in my psyche.

Ookay where do I start? Hmm…

April 1st: Bam got here in time. Maybe 6.30. Few minutes before 7 though, Shay came too. Soon, F3 left for Picnic Grove! Whoopee! We were then in Boulevard to hop on a bus heading for Olivarez. After minutes of scorching smoke from belching vehicles (and sticky sweat), we decided to head to Rotonda to take the bus there. Eeek. What a loooong walk for Bam and Shay. Sorry guys! After a while, the coupé moved and the journey was on! Whoopee again! Before lunch, we got our bills and bought some McDonalds. After that, we rode another jeepney that would bring us to our break-place.

I was a bit nervous about entering Picnic Grove at first to be honest. Mom told me just to tell the people that I was Tito Rey Manalo’s niece. But heck, I wasn’t really close to him. He didn’t even know how I exactly looked like. Good thing those peeps by the entrance of the site let me in in a flash. They just told me to look for ‘Tito Rey’ up in the picnic places. A few minutes after , I finally found my butt—my target that is. The infamous F3 was fetched, ironically, by a tricycle. Haha. How lavish. A house outside Picnic Grove waited for the wealthy trio. We settled for this air-conditioned roomie instead of the non-AC one coz the latter cost just P500 cheaper than the first. The AC room's original cost was actually P2500 but the owner of the place offered it at P2000 probably when she saw that we couldn’t afford such sum. Come to think of it, I was only prepared to pay less than P500 for the room we were going to rent and we ended up paying more than P600! Gaak! It was A-Ok in the finish though; coz the entire house was technically ours for there was no other group of people who was around to rent. Whoopee! So the purple bedroom (with a TV, an air-con, a table, a good bed…see, the non-AC rooms didn’t have these), the living room, the dining area, the wash area, and the loo on both ground and second floors were all ours for 2 days! Eureka! Ahh! And the terrace and the front porch! They were ours too. The P2000 did go a long way, I admit…

I ate adobo, my packed lunch, which we fondly called adoberz. The two persons insisted they were still full so I dined by myself with Game KNB runnin’ on the telly. After that we got out of the house and went straight to Picnic Grove again. We bought beverages—H2O for Shay and Bam, while Buko juice for me…mmm! Swabe! We were down the eco-trail soon. Later, F3 decided to rest and talk while swooning about the whole place when this bunch of guys, which was just strolling behind, stopped around us .They did move after some time but to my surprise, they stood somewhere we would definitely need to go by.
Seeing they wouldn’t go away soon, I walked first and as I passed by the lads, one of them shot, “Picture-picture!”
Papampam, I thought. I snapped back, “De, mamaya pa…” (in my usual sanggano tone)
The laddie, probably flabbergasted that I would answer, responded with a quiet “Ah, mamaya pa?”
“Oo mamaya pa.” I replied again, without turning around to look at them.
He spoke again, “Enjoy your trip!” (or was that “enjoy your stay”…whatever)
“Shoore…” I muttered and continued walking.

We had ice cream and went to that Karaoke place still later that afternoon. It was a blast for us. We sang so many songs that we were the only ones left in the area. I guess the people around got intimidated, they decided to leave! Whoopee! Haha! There, we coined our term for the century: RaxOnn
We left the microphones for our homie before six and bought some expensive chow before we go.

things

Hmmm...its another Sunday--another horrific day for plain ol' me.Okay, I was exaggerating. But here's the truth: I'm getting sick of things. It's a shame why I'm always feeling bratty most of the time lately. I'm not like this. I'm supposed to be true to myself and to other people. But heck, no. I dont find myself useful anymore. I dont know of reasons why I'm living. No, don't get me wrong. I don't want to deteriorate just yet. I have lots of stuff to do. But the question I raise is: What stuff? I don't know my purpose and it's crap. I want to love people. I want to please people.

I want to get my darned self back! Who stole me? Some fraud has taken over my body and is currently hitting me psychologically. How foul. How disgustingly foul.

I dont want Sundays to be sad. Nor do I want Saturdays or Fridays to be so, for crying out loud! But it's happening for some vexing reason.

**edited 12apr, orig 10apr

sayberserye iv

Kaye hesitantly stirred away from the board when the candle they had set earlier to light the room suddenly went out.
“Oh please!” Liz rushed towards her friend and huddled close to her, “Tell me that was just coincidence.”
Just then, loud sounds of breaking and clattering echoed downstairs. The girls gasped and shut their eyes tightly.
“Guys, are you okay? The power’s off!” Rai came back half-running, with a flashlight in her hand. She looked worriedly at her startled friends, “Did you…get an evil one?” She asked, her voice trailing away.
“Wait, wait…” Kaye gathered herself and clambered back before the Ouija. She placed her fingers lightly above the planchette again and breathed hard, “Spirit, are you still around?”
“What are you doing?!”
“O-U-I…” Kaye murmured, ignoring a panic-stricken Liz, “Okay… Spirit, we want to end this…this thing already. You can go now.”
Chilly wind blew into the room—the one that seems to come with a gloomy whistle that lingers in the ears. The drapes floated eerily allowing faint moonlight to enter through the window. Distracted by this and by her dimming flashlight, Rai clutched the rosary beads safe inside her pocket.
“Any luck?” She stuttered, “Is it gone yet?”
“It doesn’t want to…” Kaye’s voice resounded uneasily, “It’s hard to—Oh my gosh… Oh my gosh…”

someone to remember

**I ask consent , from anyone who is reading this, to allow me to use the title holy father to refer to Karol Józef Wojtyla in this commentary. This is clearly differentiated from the God Almighty’s name which is Holy Father.


I adore the holy father for evident reasons although I can not remember precisely how, or when I started to take interest in knowing what goes on with the Pope. When I see him in the papers or in television, I just dig on to be aware of what’s happening around him. This is why when John Paul II fell sick lately, I couldn’t help but feel jittery. In spite of this, it didn’t occur to me that he wouldn’t be able to carry on anymore because he seemed to be better during Lent. When the reports that he was dying broke out, and when the media began to release all those pre-tributes for him, that is just the time when I started to pray for his recovery. The day after, the world received news that the holy father has finally breathed his last.

It still pains me to think that he’s gone. And my heart does twinge with every memory of his pleasant nature—that charming face and those twinkling eyes likened to a loving grandfather. Lucky are those who have met and encountered the Pope’s warm affection. I especially feel moved when I remember how he had talked to and forgiven that hired Turkish national two years after the latter had executed his assassination attempt on him. How many people in this world would do the same? I can not tell.

Now, it is all done. He is at peace. Quoted from one of the high priests, “He has returned to the house of the Father.”
I cried. Yes I did. Why shouldn’t I when one of those good people left in our race has already left. We lost someone who was a very humble inspiration to both Catholic and non-Catholic worlds; a leader who fought for peace amongst humanity; a father who was entirely committed to the tarnished depiction of the Church; a picture indeed of my Saviour.
But like what I have written above, the holy father now rests in peace. The God above has called this kind-hearted man to be with Him in Paradise for eternity. This is what all of us has to remember when tears roll down our cheeks thinking of reasons why the good Lord allowed Giovanni Paolo II to depart this earthly life. It is cliché to say that he may be gone physically but in our hearts, the Pope always remains. But that is exactly the truth. And nothing, not even Change which is constant, can ever take truth away from us.

SUPERFLUOUS:
Last night I got out of bed to watch that special coverage of ABS-CBN of the Pope’s transfer from the Sistine Chapel, I guess, to the Basilica. I failed to finish the program. I got called to go back to bed for it had already struck past midnight. I had no choice. I had to follow. But I went to sleep with a heavy heart not because I had hard feelings towards my elder. No, I lied down hurting because the day had been a total wreck for me and seeing dear Karol Wojtyla on television seemed to be my only solace and the privilege was still taken away from me. How much of a wreck was my yesterday, you ask? Well, it was so bad that I even managed to utter the words, “Isabay niyo na lang po ako sa inyo, Pope…” I wont answer anymore if someone asks what happened because my reasons will absolutely sound trivial to anyone (even to myself actually) but what I can only disclose is that I was completely psychologically unstable the 4th day of April, 2005.

Sometimes it makes me think I have lunatic tendencies. *sighs*