Bills. More complicated in the Philippines.

     I was enjoying a yummy lunch treat while browsing through Sunday's paper when I came across this caricature of our President holding a big bag of money allotted for the RH Bill -- while people in the background speak of budget for jobs, housing, medicine and what have you's...


     I purposely relinquished my right to vote the last time we had national elections because I didn't feel like anyone in the line up leveled with what the country needs. The only regret I have is not securing that precious voter's ID.  I am not pro-Aquino and yeah, you might as well tag me as one of the millions of passive Pinoys who couldn't care less about local issues so long as their BB cellphones work and they get free Wi-fi... but this time though, I sincerely believe in what this man is doing. He's no simpleton, mind you... and he's bravely introduced changes that most Filipinos are scared shit to accept -- an attitude he probably got from his slightly infamous sister. Oh well, papel...going back, the picture is so simple -- if you open your mind more than your eyes and your mouth.


    Don't get me wrong. I love life. I am a mother of two beautiful boys and I don't regret having them even if I got pregnant too early in my life. I know how it feels to carry a baby in my womb and I know the beauty of feeling a baby's kick in the course of pregnancy. As much as I loved the feeling of having a little angel grow inside me, I also felt the pressure of thinking how I can raise my kid decently. Of course, no mother would want her child to grow hungry. Being privileged enough to come from a decent family, I have minimal problems when it comes to providing for my kids. But that's just me -- what about those who come from the poorest of the poor?  


     --- No matter how Government tries to generate jobs, provide medicine and all the services for tax-paying Juan Dela Cruz, if the problem about population growth is not dealt with, no amount of effort can ever pluck us out of bad debts and change our "bahala na" system of living. What Government is trying to do is fix the ROOT of the problem instead of just painstakingly deal with its effects. Focus is given to securing that every Filipino family is educated about reproductive health and GUIDE them in deciding wisely. No shotguns being pointed, no diabolic scheme is being cooked.


          Seriously, the Clergy should weigh the issues first before they drag thousands of Pinoys to the streets. The Bill is PRO MOTHER and CHILD, for heaven's sake! And as for the politicians who jump in the bandwagon -- I dare not say STATESMEN -- they should be more concerned about keeping their hidden wealth somewhere in Europe while preparing for the next round of elections. Certainly, ex-CJ Corona and Gloria M will accept prison cell buddies, you know.


           If we misuse the Scriptures to impede our development and if we keep ourselves misinformed, then we're going to find ourselves stagnant in this situation for centuries to come. 20 years from now, you'll still see children begging in the streets, you'll learn of poor families fighting to survive and you'll still watch goddamn protesters burning effigies, screaming their lungs out and blaming everything to whoever is seated in Malacanang.


          -- Do you really think that's what the Boss upstairs want for the Filipinos?


          Never be afraid of change if it means a better future. And in my own way of saying it -- when your faucet is broken, you don't grab a mop and bucket to wipe away water that is wasted -- what you do is grab a wrench and fix the leak.  

          Enough said.

 
   
   

A Few Years Ago..

She.

Everyday, I see a certain woman. She looks so miserable- - hair all tangled up, her face lined with pain and with eyes expressing fatigue and loneliness. She probably was once a very cheerful and free spirited young girl, but looking at her now, there’s not a sign she ever was such a person. Her eyes look as if they’re always close to tears; somewhat begging for something that’s deprived of her.  I can hardly see any trace of bliss on her face, only a melancholic expression that gives away her genuine feeling of distress. She looks as if she’s standing on a borderline between sanity and madness.

Once in a while we would glance at each other, study one another’s features for a few seconds and then move on. But despite the remoteness of us being able to talk, she’s grown eerily familiar to me. There’s a faint trace of someone I used to know when I look at her face. She hardly ever smiles, but if she would, she’d probably remind me of who she was.

At times I would catch her crying, her eyes all puffed up with tears. I would see her trembling with uncontrollable anguish, but even during those times, she would not speak. I feel so attached to her that there is no need for words to be spoken for me to feel her pain. And I know that if she could, she’d cry out all her agonies and pluck out the thorn that’s throbbing in her heart… But you see, this woman won’t let up. She’s probably scared shit nobody would understand. I can tell she’s doubtlessly been rejected before and so she chooses to exist as a mere shadow in the dark, to swallow every jagged pill that life gives her. She’s keeping it all in and while she tries so hard to be a freakin’ golden girl, she knows she’s crushing the life out of herself. It’s pathetic, but that’s how she lives it out everyday.     

If I could, I would scorn her for letting herself down. I would lambaste her for trying so hard to make everybody else happy except herself. I’d certainly lash at her for depriving herself of self love…but I can’t. I know she won’t take it. I know she’s too weak to fight it out without breaking down in tears. She’s too vulnerable to pain…too fainthearted. She breaks me into pieces when I see her that way. I hate the feeling.  I know this all too well…You see, she’s the person I don’t want to see but she’s also the same person staring back when I look in the mirror everyday…she’s none other than me.

Rogue21

College Life

                                          

                                               

Speak your mind..

                      Your school is your second home… (Besides the cinemas, billiard halls and computer shops, of course.)…You wander in every corridor until you finally feel the contours of the floor to which you are going to walk upon for four.. (no, make it five to six - -depending on how long you plan to ‘master’ each subject over and over again each sem.).. perplexing, grueling, traumatic BUT exciting years. It doesn’t really matter if you’re a prototype of the Neanderthal man or a mutant of generation Z. Nobody cares if you come from a galaxy trillions of light years away. What’s important is your clear idea that school is not simply an asylum for zany people like me; it is also a big treasure chest of learning. (oohh..)  

            Sure, you’ll probably develop sleeping disorders, occasional nightmares, bouts of nausea and detect early signs of cerebral malfunctioning, but hey, that’s what makes it such a rush! After all the slave driving tasks, blisters, eye bags, alaxan-imodium-biogesic addiction and novenas to St. Jude, you’ll soon take a bite at that bittersweet fruit of your hard earned success!      

            I do not mean to offend anybody or spark insubordination …what I write down is completely based on my quirky ways of seeing things…your reaction is beyond my discretion …just remember that its healthy to be silly sometimes and its through humor that people maintain balance in a topsy-turvy world like ours.

 Let me tell you now about the simple and yet silly things about my alma mater..(all of which I will keep in the back pockets of my head )…

***                 

                        Hail to our dear SPEDS!... If I play back scenes from last week’s religion class in my head while eating a ketchup-soaked-yesterday’s- leftover- spaghetti in the caf, people would probably think I’m schizophrenic  or something…really, if you’ve experienced sitting at close proximity to funnyman Hans and dead serious Christopher, you’d know what I mean!...’hysterical’ isn’t even close to how I’d describe the class...its the ‘loony bin’ of SELAMS- -SPEDS and non-SPEDS alike! But with all earnestness, I truly salute our SPED friends—you bring soundness in a chaotic world like ours…and I take my hat off to Miss Daoanis—yours is a gift only genuine educators possess.

 The chapel…. If you have nowhere to go and you feel you’re up for some laughs, try to visit the place in your vacant time…chances are you’d come out with gastric pains just by watching our resident retreat master hilariously  blabber his way through the whole session with ‘slightly’ demented and at times… politically incorrect remarks..but hey, no matter what the man says, it’s enough to keep those eyes open and keep people coming back for more. Encore brother, encore!

            Mr. Rongci…”the man” of politics…Machiavelli- -Pinoy style. Everybody who’s been anybody in his class knows what I mean... he’s the boy wonder of political theories. Forget ‘bout the occasional Southern tone, the hour and a half words marathon or the unexplainable thin line between objectivity and subjectivity…just remember the words…”we must all act in accordance with what is expected of us.”  (Move over Nicolo..make way for ‘rongcalianism!')

            

       Everyone’s ‘ate’ at the SELAMS Dean’s office…Tada!..Ms. Congeniality at her grandest state... Even when buried under tons of paperwork or marauded by ‘lost civilization’ students, she’s still up for a smile. I will never forget the bespectacled enchantress…the face that can launch a thousand dropping forms…the tiger lady with an attitude..grrr…

The life saving scantrons…Inside the mind of ‘miss, share your knowledge naman’ classmate: (upon seeing the white answer sheets from heaven, sighs…lets it all out...) “Praise the Lord, Alleluia!”…after an hour of perpetual miniminimynimos and a show of cunning 20/20 eyesight, he passes the paper and gets away with a screaming grade of 1.5…Aahh..Suave...

Mr. Magtoto... how on earth will I start? I grew up knowing the alphabet all too well but damn it, if you ask me the meaning of X and Y, I'd give you hell. Just make sure you're not hypertensive if you belong in his class.  You'll die once he starts calling out names. You'll pee in your goddamn pants when he asks you the value of X. Trust me, the man gained my respect but he also revived my fear of numbers. ;)

The women’s CR at 7 pm… My school, they say, is crawling with stories of ghostly apparitions, possessed beings and other diabolical creatures and the women’s CR seems to be one of the favorite settings! Now, unless you’re a daredevil waiting to experience sheer terror, go and seek these beings in the comfort of an empty washroom. But if you happen to be a chicken like me, I suggest you think twice. Either stand in line in an over-crowded, smelly comfort room...or die urinating in the hands of a faceless assailant.

Traditional teachers…”bato-bato sa langit,ang matamaan - huwag magagalit…”I share the same frequency with those students who are bothered by the urge to press the button on their chairs which says: “PUSH BUTTON TO EJECT TEACHER.”

Under these profs, I have learned the art of going to sleep with my eyes open, perfected the game of hide and seek (hide from the razor sharp eyes of the teacher and seek thy cell phone), recite a three-word prayer when the prof is in a hellish mood: “God, help me.” and last but not least, I definitely learned the value of a working pen and a decent paper.  

Tyrannical security guards… I can certainly find it in my system to understand that our manongs in uniform are just doing their jobs…but I don’t have the slightest idea why they seem to have a fetish for school ID’s!  Could it have been possible their minds were altered to look at these plastic cards as trophies…or perhaps that of the prized  ’ring’ tied to Frodo’s neck? …Beware of the universal soldiers! They’re armed with x-ray vision, built in metal-alcohol-dope-printed underwear detectors and looks that could just make you squirm and say “eto na i.d. ko.”

The death defying PHL…Why? PHL is no place for people who are freaking scared of heights like me. Whoever designed the building was obviously oblivious of the principle: ‘what goes up must go down’. Those heaven-forsaken bars won’t hold you if in case you fall off and plummet to your death. If you don’t die, you’ll suffer debilitating injuries...in which case, you shall end up in a hospital bed looking like a damned veggie and live through your own inferno thinking the subject should have been ‘dropped’ instead of you.   

The treacherous air conditioners… Everyone loves these babies. With the scorching heat of Mendiola, the fumes of those despicable PUVs and the onslaught of gazillion students, people are sure to glue themselves to these monster machines…but beware, these things live up to their name. These are monsters ready to inflict a nasty chill and a bothersome cold. If you’re not up to experiencing early symptoms of Hypothermia, then bring a jacket man!   

Never-ending rallies in Mendiola…here’s how I see it :  If I lose that much sanity in my system from all the clashing ideologies in my head, I figure I’d be finding myself in Mendiola --holding a damned banner, screaming my lungs out and eating a stick of fish ball while anticipating a water cannon shoot my way. Of course, that would probably be ten to twenty years from now…in a situation when I’ve probably spent a quarter of my lifetime trying to get a decent job and blaming my misfortune to whoever is occupying that forsaken seat in the Palace…pathetic, isn’t it?

            

       Pedestrian ethics 101…street smartness is the name of the game. Observation and actual experience of crossing the dreadful Recto-Mendiola street can most likely help you NOT to become road kill by speed-addicted drivers. Unless you intend to lose all dignity and shrink in utter shame for failing to make it to the other side alive, join the anarchic groups of students who get a kick out of playing patintero in the middle of the freakin’ road! Remember: if you cant make it alone, there is strength in numbers. (get it?)

            

       Back alley turo-turo’s…if you find yourself dreadfully sick to your stomach of our cafeteria’s decade-old menu consisting of endless siomais, fettuccini, waffles, pancit and the like, there’s always the ‘point-points’ at the back, you know.

             

            Of course, I can write a hundred things more worth noticing about CEU, but I choose to reserve them for ethical and security reasons. I figure I’d be sooo DEAD if I go on rambling ´bout things I find extremely amusing in CEU. Someday, when I’ve finally reached the cosmos, I will look back and laugh my bladders out and reminisce how crazy college life was. For now though, my life would have to revolve around a truckload of subjects, research studies which spell H-E-L-L and a potential plead for insanity!....the battle isn’t over yet, ‘the eye of the enemy is moving’…time for round one…ting, ting, ting.                            

hmm...

..when you fall in love with someone, you give that person the power to hurt you.. that's my idea of the 'L' word's negative effect on people. to believe that love is entirely good is plain bullshit. am i a pessimist?..i think not. i'm just being brutally honest. love is anything but perfect. its full of freakin' flaws..it can either turn you to the best you'll ever be.. or send you plummeting to the darkest pits of loneliness and depression. 

Presidentiables

And don't all of them have the sweetest smiles? i dont mean to be pessimistic but in the PI, government is synonymous to money making ..a far cry from what we ideally want - true public service. its a circus of sorts..we have the boy from the slums, the tough guy from the north, the son who lives in the shadow of his parents, the 'has beens' who just dont know when to give up and the daring newbies..or shall i say, the 'wannabes.' all of them have good platforms but none deserve to be president. it doesnt really matter who wins. That forsaken seat in the Palace is stained and it'll take more than just jingles, colorful stickers and catchy tag lines to pull the Philippines up from this mess. 

My Morning Sunshine

 In happy moments, a man can say sweet yet empty words to your ear. For a short ecstatic space in time, that can make you feel you exist...but when you find yourself in a heated argument and he stops you in the middle of your sentence and says "stop na..you're my partner, my love"...that's the time you know you LIVE.

   Life started again with that single "psstt.." and its never been the same since. The circumstances are harsh, sometimes heavy enough to bury me alive..but you refuse to let go. Every time, you hold my hand.. and every time, you make it stronger.  I can never understand what you see in me and it will always be a mystery why I am so connected to you..but we're here, no matter what the odds are.. and we choose to stay.

    Though it rains, you always clear the skies..the day I found you was the day the sun smiled at me again. 

    Ich liebe dich, Morning. :)

For My Mommy from Ruffa

It’s been a while since I last looked at her...and I mean REALLY looked at her. As a child, I painted a picture of her as the tiger lady in my head. My knees would weaken at how she gave us that menacing look whenever she wanted something done. She gave me mixed emotions of fear, respect, love and more fear.  Thirty two summers later, my mother… the tiger lady, looked different. She no longer has that fierce look on her face. She looked calm but her eyes told me she was tired. Yesterday, she came home with a small bandage on her hand. She said she went to the doctor. I was concerned and I wanted to ask what’s wrong...but I was too scared.

When I was a little girl, I remember how she sang a Tagalog song that had “...at kung ako ay mamamatay...” lyrics. She had a beautiful voice but every time she sang that song, tears would well up in my eyes. I fought hard not to sleep for fear that when I wake up, she wouldn’t be there anymore.  I grew up to adolescence being my mom’s Apple. I used to say to myself that I will not marry and I’d rather be with Mommy until she grows old. For years, I adored my mother. I looked up to her like she was a goddess…like Hera, the Queen. She portrayed a person full of control and so much love…and yet she can turn you into a pitiful creature if you went against her wishes. I used to watch her put on makeup and dress really smart when she was still fairly young. I felt jealous when she caught the attention of people I don’t know.  Mommy had this ‘mataray’ look that I feared but loved so much.  

Through my growing up years, I heeded to her every wish. I went through boring piano classes, wore extremely uncomfortable girly dresses, learned ballet and attended finishing school...all of which I hated… but because Mommy wanted it, I followed. In my teen years, she was overly protective of me and my sister. When she told me I couldn’t entertain any suitor until I hit 18, I said yes. When she gave me a thumbs down on a certain boy, I would immediately get rid of the individual. And when she disapproved of my choice of school, I didn’t feel proud of myself. Her approval was always so important to me. She was the Queen, the LAW and everything powerful back then.

It was only during a regretful part of my family’s life that I started to disconnect from Mommy. I didn’t want to but I saw how she became easy prey to a certain marriage upset between her and my father. I can’t explain how my world was shattered when I saw how my Mom lost control and made life so miserable for me and my siblings. It was then that I started to rebel.

I drew my strength from my family and when she lost her grip and made us feel so much pain, I too lost the will to be the loving daughter. I forgot the woman whom I looked up to. I started to see her as someone too overbearing and insensitive. No longer did I wish to be by her side. My disappointment and sadness prompted me to make a series of reckless decisions and I blamed her for it. Probably, she also learned how to despise me. For years, my mom and I would have skirmishes at home. There would be that classic scene where she’d say something I did not approve of. I would cry with anger and storm out of the house, cursing her in my mind. She was the proud Annabelle...and I was rebellious Ruffa. 

I am ashamed to admit it but for so long, I carried hatred for her in my heart. I always thought nothing I ever did was good enough for her. She made me feel like I was the problematic middle child. I can’t even remember how many times I prayed about it or how many gallons of tears I wasted. I just told myself I will never be like her.

 I’ve been wanting to write something about her for quite a while but I never had time. Probably, my hesitations also made me set aside the idea.  Why her? I might as well write about my kids, my Morning, my life. Today, I changed my mind. The last time we had an argument was a few months ago. I did not say anything. I just turned my back and told myself to ignore her. For three months, I treated her as a ghost. I would walk past her and pretended she’s not there. I felt nothing. Life though has its ways of teaching me a lesson about family no matter how hard headed I may be. A week ago, I had a problem with my eldest. I asked help from my siblings but they could not do anything. I was too proud to ask my parents so I carried the burden alone. Mommy found out about it and through my sister, she extended help. The proud Annabelle held out her hand to the even prouder Ruffa. As if nothing happened a few months back, Mommy asked me to be with her. I wanted to cry but I forced the tears back. I was unsure of where to place myself. She didn’t say anything; she just talked to me in a calm voice. Without words, she made a truce with me, waved the white flag and calmly welcomed me back in her arms.

I see myself now not as the rebellious child. I am more like the prodigal daughter. My stubborn attitude failed no matter how hard I tried to keep it firm. Looking back, I acted the way I did for years not because I hated her. It was because I love her so much and her disapproval shattered everything I believed in. All the pain I caused her, the times we made each other cry…I regret so much.

I look at her now and see so much of myself in her. She’s a proud woman and so is her daughter. Rosemarie is very outspoken and so is Apple. She went through so much and still survived…much like what I went through when it was my time to experience pain. She can love, practice patience and forgive like no one else can...a part of her that I am also trying to follow. I am slowly proving myself wrong when I said I am completely opposite of who my mother is. We are the same in so many ways. I may look more like my father, I may have tagged myself as Daddy’s girl…but inside, I am my mother. . I am mini Mommy.

I can only hope life will give me more time with her. I want to be the daughter I should have been. I want to be her closest ally, her friend…her Apple.

I want to share to the world how sorry I am and how much I want to be close to you again. I want to be the one to curl your hair every day; I want to be your personal driver; I want to go to places with you and Candy; I want to go to the mall with you, accompany you to the doctor and be Daddy’s ‘kapalit’ when he’s not around to assist you.

I want to hear your laughter again…but this time, I want you to be laughing with me.

Raise the roof, Mommy! You’ve always been the one who kept us together. You’ve always been the source of strength in this family. I am old now but just like your little baby 32 years back, you still carry me in your arms.  I can’t promise to be a perfect daughter but I can do my best.

This is for you. I love you, Mommy!!

To the Caped Crusader from Robin

I looked at you and I didnt have to hear your voice to know what you wanted to say. Those gentle brown eyes pierced its way through my heart and into my soul..whispering words only you and I can understand.

As I remember how beautiful you looked when I saw you again, I cant help but smile at how you looked back at me with your cheek slightly tilted and that wonderful dimple peeping as you tried hard to keep a straight face. You can't hide though..I know how that pretty boy face wanted to break out into a breathtaking smile...and you did -- and it was all I needed to bring life back into my dark world.

For years, I made myself believe God has forsaken me..I carried a cross too heavy for me to handle and existed in a world I deemed hostile. In my mind, happiness was just a feeling too remote for me to experience. I filled my heart with pain and so much anger that I forgot how it felt to live, love and appreciate life. I smiled but it was never from the heart; I laughed but inside, I was breaking apart. Like a hermit hiding inside its shell, I purposely surrounded myself with a thick wall nobody can break through. 

Life has its way of stopping me dead on my tracks though -- it happened when I met you...AGAIN.

If I were to write my life story, you'd be one of the lead characters. I tagged you in my teenage diaries as "the ONE who got away" ...You were the boy who smiled his way through my young heart and for the first time, I felt how it was to fall in love.

Some people think the beauty of first loves are just illusions we create in our minds. The world will always dictate that when you're young, the idea of loving someone is too shallow and the feeling shall pass as fast as it came.  But no -- NOT you. You made sure you carved your initials on that tiny space in my heart...and I carried that with me through the years. I went on my way and so did you.. but whenever your name came up, I still found myself smiling and looking back. 

So the years rolled by -- with me either battling in life's arena or slumped in one corner fighting to catch my breath for the next round. I found myself entangled in a system of webs I spun for myself and ended up regretting the decisions I made. Then, after more than a decade, you came along...with that single "psstt.." that felt as if someone just pushed that panic button and all alarms went off inside my head. I thought life was pulling my leg again but you made me understand you didn't come back just to play. 

I once posted a picture of an old couple who recently got married. I remember saying we spend years finding the greatest love of our life -- I was actually thinking of you. Until now, I remain puzzled. You didn't force your way through me.. you didn't come like a teenaged boy with sweet yet empty words. You were just simple YOU...the boy who grew up to be a man...the MAN who reads me like an open book and treats me like a hard to find novel -- too precious in your mind to ever let go. 

Life can beat you up, make you fall on your knees and beg. It can pose as your greatest foe but in the end, you'll find that for every tear you've shed and every wound you inflicted on yourself, life will always turn out to be your greatest ally -- and give you a reward for all the hardships you put up with. For me, that reward is YOU.  

You found me in the midst of turmoil and despair. You held my hand and gave me peace. You tamed the angry person inside me and made me see the beauty of life that I once erased from my mind. You understand my pain, you teach me how to deal with it and help me put back the pieces of my broken soul. 

So if I were to be asked if I can let you go -- I'd ask the world back to make me do things that are possible, not the ones I can't anymore.  I lost you once and I won't lose you again. 

This one is for you, my golden boy. --Mansanas21

Patience

You can't expect the people who love you to always nod their heads and utter the words "it's okay" at every damn crap you give them. 

Volcanoes stay dormant when there is not enough magma to reach the surface. It only takes one great shift in the earth's mantle to heat up and awaken a sleeping giant. When it does, there's only one option --RUN.

Excuse My French

A stunning woman blessed with a curvaceous body, height and a beautiful face caught my attention at the grocery a few hours ago. For a few precious seconds, I forgot I AM a girl too...kaya lang there's one problem--

woman carelessly blurts out: "hahaha!...taena. fucker ka, utot mo!"

---I felt like every damned power line in my system went down. A pretty face should NEVER substitute good breeding and proper social graces.

Miserably Ever After

Once upon a lazy afternoon, Apple went to the hospital to visit her nephew. As the door of the elevator opened, she saw Dr. Prince Charming standing at the corner, smiling and holding the door for her. Looking so dashing in slim fit clothes and a doctor's jacket, he looked like he just came out of a cover of GQ Magazine. Apple could feel butterflies in her stomach. "Where have you been all my life

?", she asked herself. With just the two of them in the elevator, all she could say was "thank you" and smiled like a shy little girl. He was going to the 8th floor and Apple on the 10th but just as Apple was about to thank God for the wonderful experience, her world came crashing down when Dr. Prince Charming's shoe accidentally got caught on the treads. In a soft and girly voice, he said "aayy..oh my gosh.." --- In utter disappointment, Apple watched him as he flipped his head and walked away like a sexy FEMALE supermodel, taking her crushed hopes and dreams with him.

--Dr. Prince Charming turned out to be Cinderella. The end.

Amused..really.

I'll say it again...I don't know which is more amusing on a Saturday morning: Coward frat boys who roar like lions when they move in packs but run like hell when singled out...OR rallying Filipinos who still live in the Dark Ages and get a kick out of keeping the rest of the country uninformed about the RH Bill. 

Facebook isn't really a platform for airing religious or political beliefs but just the same, it's a free country. I say what I mean and I mean what I say.

Speak your mind

Your first responsibility is to take care of yourself. You owe that to the Lord who created you and your parents who raised you. Law school or no law school, you do not need to associate yourself with questionable organizations to gain acceptance. You were born alone and you are uniquely designed to survive alone. 

--True brotherhoods never seek to inflict physical pain among its brethren.