Hell Week

This entry's title is self explanatory, and as this week ends I breathe a sigh of relief as I think I have survived one of the many horrible week days that have passed me by since I ever really learned to hate 'bad karma'. This month marked my younger brother's wedding, and all his months of preparation weren't enough to shield him, and us, from the overwhelming stress and pressure of the day-before-the-actual-wedding. Nobody really talked about it while we were preparing, but everyone was aware of the stressful situation which was so thick you can cut it with a knife. But everyone's prayers were answered because the event went without a hitch, and we all went home with smiles and tears of joy. But the festivities weren't over really, because here in the Philippines the festivities don't end with the culmination of a certain event. It usually ends when the money is obviously drained, and as the wedding after-party begun i felt that the last reserves of energy within me were all but extinguished( did i mention I was working on a freelance job while we were preparing? no i didn't). All the days spent helping my bro with his plans as well as working my ass off to reach my work's deadline have taken there toll, and as I drank the first glass of beer that night in honor of the occassion, I felt sick. So I excused myself and went to bed early, and when morning came I found myself unable to get up because I was now very sick. But I had to force myself to go to work because of a strict project deadline, and after working for several hours at the office I headed straight home and into bed. the whole weekend found me lying in bed like a plaque victim, with a high fever and my head feeling like I fought Manny Pacquiao for 12 rounds. I had to sit out all of the post wedding gatherings and resigned myself to the fact that I really, really needed to rest. Then came monday, and by God's mercy I thought I was well enough to work, so off to work I went. Unfortunately my 73 year old mom caught whatever virus that I suffered from and bam! One minute she was her old energetic self, the next she was sick as a zombie straight from the movie screen. We all had to spare some time to take care of her, and I had to do my part even though I also had a critical deadline for submission at work. To make this long story short, It was a really f%&ked up week, and thankfully it won't happen again soon because another round of bad juju would see me lose my job...or even lose my head. God forbid.

Home: Where the Heart is

Anyone who's ever been burned out by too much work, too much thinking about life and whatever the f*&k the future might bring will find it a tremendous relief to be back in their old hometown: be it to unwind, or even to find themselves again. It's a secret gift that life offers to all those weary souls whose lives have been battered by the unseen dark forces of the universe...the same forces that rust metal , rot apples,and crumble mountains. I just came back from a rather short but powerfully healing vacation to my hometown of Bacolod with the best crew I can ever travel with: my siblings, as well as a few acquaintances and close relatives who managed to tag along. It was an hour-long flight to Silay airport and another 2-hours roadtrip to where everything started: Brgy. Sicaba Cadiz City; a small, rustic old town filled with nipa huts and wooden houses and the smell of home-cooked meals over a wood fire. Amazingly, all the rains and bad weather of the past few days were nowhere in sight ( as my good friend Mike used to say, ' the weather is riding with the occasion', which is good omen). We arrived at our destination with our relatives on the doorstep of my grandparent's old house, ready to welcome their weary nephews and nieces who have come to be revitalized by the power that only the love of a close-knit family can give. Suffice it to say, the rest is history; though there were some moments of awkwardness brought about by a few bad apples (hey, they're freakin' everywhere, family or not), the fun and warmth pervaded the atmosphere up until it was time to go. And so we went home, tired and aching (and a bit hung over), but with a big smile in our hearts, a smile that hopefully will last until the next trip home. Now I sit on my work station, and I feel like shit. I just realized I'm beginning to f*%king hate Manila. Home is definitely where my heart is...I have left it there on purpose.

The Crossroads

Every now and then we come across a life-changing moment in our lives when we are put in front of a raging tidal wave of factors that threaten to tear our very souls apart - unless we succumb to the trial of making trivial decisions that will either save us or condemn us to a prison without walls, but either way will change our lives forever. I personally have encountered countless times when I had to choose between two or more things just to keep my life on track; most of the time I chose rightly. We all have different ways of seeing such events; I like to look at mine as standing in front of the 'cross roads', where all souls must return from time to time to change their lives, for good or bad. In the past I have always looked upon this magical and unseen event with awe, like I was literally standing at the crossroads of life, the skies sunless and eerily gray, and the land barren except for the two long stretches of road that meet each other in the middle of nowhere. It is ever-present in my mind wherever I go, and I know that it is what led me to where I am right now. But lately I feel that the crossroads have been working against me , because these past several years have been filled with ill-fated choices that have led me from one dead-end road to the other. Right now I am lost, and I feel that I am nearing that mystical forked road again. Will I be choosing right this time? I can only hope so, because all my wrong choices are slowly melting my life away, and another wrong road will surely lead to darkness once again. Sometimes I wish God will finally pass by on his holy white limo, because I'm sure tired of walking.

It's Been Awhile...

I guess the title says it all...it's been awhile since my last blog about the intricacies of life here in the big city. Though only a few months have gone by, it's funny how fate only needs such a short time to unleash it's wrath for all the mistakes that you have made in the past that may merit supernatural retribution, and pull the very floor from your feet, sending you falling flat on your ass into your own private shithole. I'm saying this because, though I have tried hard not to, I have managed to lose most of the things that have kept me afloat all these years: my job being the biggest of them. It's during these times that I have learned not to mess with Murphy's Law, because it's really no joke. Whatever you hold on to that seems foolproof at times CAN, AND WILL, GO WRONG... it's just a matter of when. Sometimes I wonder if there really is a 'get out of hell' card, the one that Sgt. Major Jonas Blane of the series 'The Unit' was offering a TV reporter in exchange for her cooperation during a hostage situation. It was his calling card that the reporter can count on 'when the shit hits the fan' and she needs someone to bail her out of a life and death situation. I may not be in a life threatening state but I could sure use a 'get out of hell' card right now.

Meat pie and the Enigma of Nature

I went home early yesterday hoping to get some much needed rest after spending a few sleepless nights working on my new hobby. I'm a die-hard toy collector and my friend Mokie got me hooked on 1:6 scale action figures that you get to dress up as little combat-accurate soldiers ( and soldiering has always been one of my unfulfilled dreams in life). So I walked towards where I usually get my ride home, and I happened to pass by one Goldilocks Bakery so I thought I'd grab me some grub along the way. I bought a meat pie and settled on a table outside of the shop. As I was eating I noticed people passing by and staring at my far-seeing look, noting my calmness as I ate my pie. What they didn't know was that I was really wondering where the hell the world is coming to, because lately mother nature hasn't been behaving as normal as it should.last week Manila was at the receiving end of a
powerful storm that rocked its infrastructure to the core, and though it was over
in a few hours, it made me realize that after the tragedy of storm Ondoy the worst is yet to come. Luckily I was brought up in a religious family, and ever since I was a toddler we where taught that the world will eventually come to an end, and that Christ would finally come back to judge the living and the dead. But before all that stuff comes to pass things will get worse for everyone, and I think that part is starting to happen. So what does one ordinary human being do when the very planet that he's living on decides to erase his very existence? Well, aside from dropping to our knees and praying to God to spare us from harm, I think it's about time we use our heads and learn to adapt to the ever-changing climate to survive. So its always good to prepare yourself from the bad that might happen by creating your very own 'survival kit' (I have one that consists of a lighter, pocket knife, and mini flashlight which I always bring with me). Also, try to stock up on food, water, and whatever it is that you will need in case the proverbial shit hits the fan and all your daily necessities run out, so as not to be caught off guard. With all the post-apocalyptic movies and books that have been coming out lately, I think it's enough warning that sooner or later one of them is gonna end up happening to us(especially a zombie apocalypse, which is really bad). My doomsday thoughts aside, I finished my meal and went on my way, above me the dark skies threatening rain again.

Mall Thrall

Every one of us has his or her own way of coping with the daily stress of life in the big city. We here in Manila also know that stress-related problems are no match for that looming, omnipresent structure that is the mall. Whether it be window shopping,shopping,family gatherings, friendly get-together, or just plain hanging out, we all need to stop pretending to be the energizer bunny for awhile and start unwinding the way overworked people should. Malls of all shapes and sizes have spread in time like concrete mushrooms and thrive the way they do because of one thing: they are the Mecca of our city's dead-tired and uninspired inhabitants hungry for much needed R and R (and a value meal or two). I myself am one of those 'mindless zombies' out there who gravitate towards the lights, the sounds, and the air-conditioned bliss that malls are known for. Sadly, I've been like that for as long as I can remember, and though the appeal of rampant consumerism for me has faded with time, I still go to the mall sometimes for the occasional window shopping session as well as to get some supplies. Clearly, all that ever really remains of my love affair with the department store are fond memories. probably my favorite memory ( one that I have kept in a toolbox in my mind that says 'for emergency use only') was from way back in high school. My younger brother Jet and I had this weekend escapade to Robinson's Galleria in ortigas every time we got money to spare. Those days we didn't really have much personally, so what we did was we solicited money from anyone in the house willing to be a good samaritan until we raised enough to get the wheels going. We then head to the mall and spend all of our dough like the kids we were. half of the money went to Rino's Arcade where we usually play shoot em' up zombie games and the fighting games till our eyes and hands hurt. We then spend the rest of our cash eating like shipwreck survivors at Wendy's Hamburgers. It was the good ole' times, indeed, and whenever my brother comes home from Dubai he gets a kick out of remembering those carefree times we had when we where young. And me? Well, I just keep them memories alive and always available in my head. That way, when the bad times come (and they do, all the time), there's always those good memories that will pull me through the dark roads that I walk on. So the next time you folks pass by the local mall, why not come in? You might find one of them fond memories just waiting to be made.

One-two

I was watching TV last night after a long day of working on client revisions at the office when I came upon a martial arts event in singapore called Martial Combat. A big fan of MMA myself, I decided to stick with the current channel for awhile as I wait for my sister to finish using the toilet. I was actually already preparing to go to bed and was just killing some time, but was a bit intrigued by the current matchup on TV because it was between two up-and-coming fighters who look to put up a great fight. Unfortunately I couldn't remember their names (not really good at that), but to make it short the fight was between an american muay thai fighter and a brazilian jujitsu practitioner. The Muay thai fighter, who comes from Tiger Muay Thai Academy (apparently a training camp successful for churning out good MMA fighters), looked really calm despite the fact that he was up against a brazilian jujitsu black belt and former jujitsu mundials champion. As the two were being introduced, I can't help but feel some pity for the american as it looks like he's gonna be on the recieving end of some serious ass-kicking. Finally they were called to the center and the american was even polite enough to shake hands and make a muay thai bow to his brazilian opponent, who cockily aknowledged him but obviously was already very eager to get it over and done with. I was also a bit excited at what looked to be an exciting fight, so I held my bladder for a little while more as I watched the announcer signal the two warriors to 'get it on'. And get it on they did: only it didn't happen the way I thought it would. Clearly one of the fighters already had the outcome of the fight etched in his mind even before they ever stepped into the octagon, because what followed was a classic example of 'warrior spirit vs. experience'. As the bell rang, the two fighters walked towards each other, and as the more experienced brazilian sized up his opponent, the american kickboxer clearly felt that the time was now, and unleashed a form-perfect one-two punch combination that sent the jujitsu champion down like a sack of potatoes. It was over in less than a minute, and as the fight physicians attended to the still unconscious brazilian, the american kickboxer calmy went back to his corner amidst the deafening cheers of the crowd. It was clear what he was there for: he was there to win. And win he did. He just had to get over the fact that he was gonna be fighting a goliath in the form of the brazilian champion, and had to win the fight in his mind before he could do it for real, hence his calmness before the inevitable storm. And all it took was a good old 'one-two' punch straight out of the book. The brazilian champion was still down as I turned the TV off and went to sleep.