Elusive Deliverance

We fear what we do not know
What we do not understand
What we do not comprehend.

But

Who knows why darkness
Claims the light?
Who understands why
Friends are taken?
Who comprehends
The cruelty of fate?

All that is certain
Is that darkness feeds.

On fear.
On desolation.
On despair.
On hurt.
On anger.
On pain.

How do we
Cast aside the darkness?

If we fortify the fortress
If we poison the moat

If we let no one else in

Will we salvage
The remaining light?

Or be left
Alone in the tower
Adrift at sea
Lost in the night?

BRAT: Publishing Idea

Well here I go again, putting the cart before the horse. I've found a website where I can turn my future compilation into an actual book, which I'm sure Papa will appreciate. I'm saving the link here for future reference.

http://www.lulu.com

BRAT: Introduction

So I've come up with yet another lamebrained writing goal, and, as always, I'm crossing fingers hope I could actually achieve this one. To write a series of anecdotes about growing up as an army daughter.

The plan is to work on it for the next few months, hopefully with one to two "chapters" per week, to post them in this blog as soon as I accomplish one(1), and to make a compilation out of them by the time Papa retires in November . Imagine The General's Daughter(2) meets the social media age sans murder and mystery plus(3) family dramedy(4) sans my typical dramatic drivel because this isn't really about me. Just ~kinda~ about me.

I'm calling this (hopeful) series "BRAT" as homage to our growing up as military brats.

Writing begins this weekend because I have a work deadline in a few hours. My head is rapidly being filled with ideas and I'm just hoping I can hang on until the weekend.

In other news, Yaya's second death anniversary is tomorrow. I miss her dearly, but I keep soldiering on(5).


P.S. I had to make a footnotes section, otherwise I would have filled this post with all these side comments contained in parentheses:

1. #PostForAccountability because the only other alternative would be to tell my mother about this project before I have something to show for it.
2. Nelson Demille was brilliant in that novel. Hail Demille!
3. I tried to look for the old English antonym of "sans" but all I got from the internet was that "com" is the Latin opposite of "sine", the root word of sans. Ah, well, you learn something new everyday.
4. Family drama comedy. It gets juicy sometimes, I swear.
5. Soldiering on. Military brat. Get it? Please laugh. Thanks.

Surround Yourself with Goodness and Light

Surround yourself with goodness and light
For beauty is treacherous
And kindness a trap

Surround yourself with goodness and light

Goodness that's guarded

And light dimly bright

Surround yourself with goodness and light
For the real battle
Has yet to begin

Surround yourself with goodness and light
For no single victor
Can conquer the demons

Surround yourself with goodness and light

For there are demons
Lurking within

Surround yourself with goodness and light
Guard yourself against
Emptiness, sorrow, despair

Surround yourself with goodness and light
For in the darkness
Demons play

Surround yourself with goodness and light
For the demons within
Are yearning to win

Surround yourself with goodness and light
Though the goodness be hidden
Though the light be dimly bright

Surround yourself with goodness and light
For life is hard
And the world unjust

Surround yourself with goodness and light
We need a little kindness
To conquer the dusk

Baker Dream

She woke up frazzled and dazed and dashed to the kitchen. Facing the oven, she froze and slapped her forehead. "I don't bake," she said. "What the hell was that dream about?"

She dreamed that she was a baker, a law school drop out who realized that she could just as easily make the world a better place by feeding hungry mouths and starved souls as by drafting contracts and settling disputes. 

Now that she's awake, she realized that her dream was the was simply based on part of a movie she had seen a week earlier, a movie she felt strongly about because of the female the two supporting female characters -- one, a writer, the other, a law school dropout turned baker. One profession, she dreamed of ultimately having, the other, she greatly feared.

"My life is so catatonic I dream in movie plots. And they're not even original." She sighed and exited the kitchen, desperately trying to erase the memory of another fear slowly brewing at the back of her mind.

-----

Based on a real-life dream and the events that followed.

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Draft created in Rough Draft. I'm liking this app so far, I just might get the premium version.

Difficult Question

It took me more than a decade to finally work up the nerve and ask Papa, “Where were you on this day, 30 years ago?”

I was eleven when the internet showed me articles on the atrocities committed during martial law. Though we had already taken up the EDSA revolution in school, I could not understand why soldiers, sworn to protect and to serve, could be accused of such. By this time, I was already living in Camp Aguinaldo. I grew up calling soldiers Kuyas and Titos. I was particularly fond of that one soldier I called Papa. And it always gave me immense satisfaction to meet a soldier to call Ate. To me, they were heroes, not monsters. Many of them joined the Armed Forces with no other motivation than to offer life and limb in exchange for a monthly paycheck to send to their families back home.

During one drinking session (obviously, by this time I was no longer eleven), Papa said that he believed the military was not ready to implement martial law. They were not aware of the extent and limits to their power, of its requirements, of its consequences, of abuses already being committed — by those who used martial law to justify their actions and by those who did not know any better. No, the institution was not blameless. Ignorance and ill-preparedness is not something that any military man will use as an excuse. But with that information in mind, it made more sense to me.

Thirty years after EDSA and I still come across people who either fear or loathe the military. If there is anything I can add to the list of things that people hate about the Marcoses and their cronies, I will personally add this. I will #‎NeverForget the horrors of Martial Law. I will never forget how lucky I am to live in this day and age, enjoying privileges that many of our countrymen have been denied as basic rights. I will also never forget that if those marines, the few who until that crucial point remained loyal to the dictator, had chosen to follow orders, we would be commemorating a blood bath instead of a peaceful revolution. Perhaps we would not even have any commemoration -- we've seen how effective revisionists can be.

Before I forget, this was Papa’s answer to today’s question: “Nakakulong na kami nun, anak. Remember that the spoils of war go to the victors. Kung hindi nag-succeed ang EDSA, na-firing squad na din siguro kami.”

Note: Art. 65 of Commonwealth Act 408, also known as the Articles of War, provides, “Any person subject to military law who, on any pretext whatsoever, xxx wilfully disobeys any lawful command of his superior officer, shall suffer death or such other punishment as a court-martial may direct.”

Palanca for Prinz - 2016

4 February 2016


My dearest baby brother,

Today you came home tired and weary from school, as you have started often to do. It's okay. It happens. There will be more days like this in the future. It's okay to be tired, so long as you dust yourself off and pick yourself up again.

You are 15 now. Your life is becoming more fast-paced. You are becoming more aware of the many troubles of the world we live in. Your responsibilities are piling up. Don't stay away from them. EMBRACE THEM. There is a reason for everything you are going through and there is nothing you cannot handle. Always remember, if it ever gets unbearable, we are here - your ates, mama, and papa - and yaya is watching over you as well.

In truth, you have no need for a palanca letter. You have enough self-awareness to know your strengths and your weaknesses. All you need is affirmation that you are going in the right direction - and you are!

You are far from perfect, but there is no harm in aiming for it. More than anything, strive to be happy, and be a light to others. We must not let our own darkness dampen our light. Keep your head in the clouds, keep your feet on the ground, and keep your heart open. Do not hesitate to love others as much as you are loved.


Forever and always,

X

Excuses

I hate saying "I'm busy" or "I have a lot of work to do" when I don't. Unfortunately, I have no choice. So long as society thinks of depression as somebody's lame attempt to weasel out of dinner dates or classes or meetings or any other social activities, I have no other way of saying things like:

• I'm dying inside, and I'm thinking of dying on the outside too.
• I slit my wrist the other day and it's not yet healed and I don't want you to see it.
• I'm thinking of cutting my wrists again but making the cut deeper so this would end.
• Everything is not okay and being around you makes me feel like I'm drowning.
• I'm going to spend my day thinking of ways to kill myself without anyone knowing it's a suicide.
• I'm going through a difficult time and the only way I can get through this and get to see you on another day is if you leave me alone and stop pushing.

It's funny how the thought of dying is a less acceptable way of getting out of something than work or dysmenorrhea or traffic. Society is screwed up.

Not Today

When I look down at my scar-covered wrists,
at my hidden bruises and long-healed wounds,
I feel nothing but pride and growing faith.
When one is holding the knife, the blade,
the sharp-tipped pen,
The easiest thing is to press a bit harder, deeper
To stab instead of wound, to hit hard,
to bleed and to break.
It’s the same feeling as standing atop a staircase,
or looking down a balcony
Injured and in pain, cane in hand.
You can hurl yourself over the balustrade
Or you can take each excruciating step down.
People define success very differently, indeed.
But when I wake up every morning
And my first words are,
“No, not today. Not yet.”
I feel like the most successful person in the world.

20 October 2014
Edited: 19 July 2015

Midyear Assessment

So here I am. Again, it's been a while since I last blogged even though I SWORE I would do it more often. Anyway, I thought I'd just write down the most significant things that have happened so far this year so I would not forget.

• My second year of law school has ended. Registration for the next school year is in about two weeks. I still haven't paid off my loan from last semester and we still don't have all grades in. So far though, it looks like another year in Malcolm H[a]ll for me.
• I bought a new laptop. In cash. With a 10,000 PHP loaner from papa. It's a Mac, which signals my separation from Windows. (Note I said separation, not annulment or divorce. We just need some time away from one another. I'll go back to him in a few years and see where it goes.)
• Pat turned 19, Che turned 22, and our parents had their silver wedding anniversary. It was a beautiful affair with a long-winded program that could have been a disaster (a storm was brewing in the horizon and the nearby town was subjected to heavy rains). We held it in Camp Capinpin, where papa was appointed commander last February and where they first met.
• Speaking of appointments, papa got his second star. His confirmation in Malacañang was in the middle of finals week, so that was a bit of a struggle. We had another family portrait taken and we ALL looked considerably fatter. My relief comes from the fact that: (1) it was finals week and (2) we ALL looked fatter.
• I applied for a scholarship. No news yet if anything will come of it, but here's to hoping.
• Also, I was finally assessed as Bracket C in the Socialized Tuition System. Thank you, Lady Luck. Now I just need to pay off that loan so I can take out another loan for the next semester. Goodness gracious my money problems are as big as Godzilla.
• I gained so much weight, and then I lost some. So far I'm failing every attempt of mine to do T25 daily. The longest I've gone is three days straight. Anyway, I'm just trying to exercise as much as I can. I also did one of those lunchbox diet things, which I thoroughly enjoyed, but which I cannot afford for long. Looking back, if only I did not do the lunchbox diet, I would not be in the financial pinch I am in now.
• Finally, it's been a year since Froilan and yaya passed away. I had to save that for last just so I can reduce the negativity in this post.

In terms of my year goals, I think I'm doing okay. The marks from my last cuts are no longer visible, and I haven't intentionally hurt myself in at least three months. Of course, exercise technically falls under self-inflicted pain, but since my exercising/losing weight is getting my mother off my back, it's a good pain. I've consciously tried to be more positive about myself and others, and what bad things I may think or feel about other people, I try not to dwell on too much. I'm still judgmental and aloof but I try not to let that affect my relations with the people I care for. As for others... well, baby steps, right?

In other news, I want a bag of M&M peanuts. I'm pretty sure the benefit to my productivity will be marginal and the detriment to my weight loss journey but ugh cravings.

I really need to reactivate this blog because I realize how many thoughts I have rushing through my mind wanting to be brought into the world but never having any outlet. Like just this afternoon, when I was taking a shower, I finally figured out why some people would joke about eggs being a chicken's menstruation. If I didn't blog, who would I ever tell about that?

Moments

I'm not the biggest fan of life and it's morbidity: its concept of slowly passing by without even the courtesy of letting us know until it has passed, never to return. We had to invent clocks just for that, but when our thoughts and words become too loud, the ticking of clocks is also drowned out; and technology is eliminating that ticking sound. That ticking that reminds us that everything we hold and touch is finite. We alternatively and interchangeably dread and anticipate the coming of weekends and holidays and meetings and exams and outings and dates... and just as soon as they arrive they have the audacity to depart.

But then there are moments. Moments suspended in time, frozen in memory. A mental picture accompanied by a strong feeling of happiness and joy and love. A brief respite, when you wonder what all the fear and doubt is for. Because in those rare moments, life seems to be worth living.

(15 February 2015)

Too Much to Ask? I Hope Not.

I've been following the story of Vidal and Brandon's quest to bring much needed change and inspiration to an area that has been deprived of New York's supposed glitz and glamour. It's heartwarming and beautiful and it restores one's faith in the future.

But when I see photos taken around Vidal's home, I also feel deprived. In the parallel realities that play out in my mind, if Vidal were a teen from our country, he would likely be living in slum-like areas in Metro Manila, possibly studying in an NGO-funded school, accepting handouts for uniforms, and working after class to help his mother sustain their family. Given that he's a bright kid, he could be smart enough to be working anywhere but the streets.

The building he's living in, though he may describe it as filthy, is already a dream for so many of our low and middle wage earners. Like most of our community, they are also living hand to mouth, but they have a roof over their heads that won't be blown away by the first strong gust of wind to pass through. They have passable clothing and presumably enough food to sustain them daily.

I'm not saying that his life is not tough. Contrarily, I wish that while many of our countrymen are still battling with poverty, we could at least provide more of them with their most basic necessities and give them hope that they could someday rise above their struggle.

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Photo credits to Humans of New York. This photo of a teen named Vidal is part of a series that managed to raise $700,000 in four days to provide much needed opportunities for the students of Mott Hall Bridges Academy, a school established in 2011 at Brownsville, which has the highest crime rate in Brooklyn. The original caption is:

"The buildings are filthy in the housing projects. Some people poop and pee in the hallways. And some of the people around here aren't friendly. I don't think it's a sadness or anger that they feel, but a sort of emptiness. You look around and see a lot of negative things, and you can't help but feel like you're a part of something negative, and that maybe you're something negative. Part of me wants to leave. But part of me wants to stay, because I have a lot of family nearby, and I don't want to live far away from them."

Never in Full

For the longest time, I've balanced the strategies of compartmentalization and hedging. While I try to minimize the interactions between the different aspects of my life, I also try to make sure that I never give my all to one thing at once. I've done it for the longest time that I can't recall when I started. As long as I can remember, I've done the same with my thoughts and feelings. Even after deep reflection, I cannot recall a single person to whom I've divulged all my secrets or shared all my worries and still felt comfortable enough to continue that friendship. It's just never been my way of doing things.

But I do fantasize. I dream of meeting someone, someday, who I can fully trust. Someone I can surrender all my pent-up emotions and frustrations to, and who I can give all my love to. Someone who could accept everything about me and not force me to change to fit a mold he's prepared. Someone in whose arms I will always find comfort and assurance, and never judgment or resentment. Someone I've dreamed of all my life.

Review and Resolution

2014 in review: I learned that the pain of loss is more devastating than the pain of heartbreak. I learned that when feelings are too great, we lose all capacity for words. I learned that not every form of escapism helps avoid reality. Drinking, eating, and other destructive habits cannot erase emptiness. Traveling, on the other hand, can repair even the greatest damage and plug gaping holes with new memories and experiences. Whether personally or vicariously, by land, air, or sea, new places and new worlds remain the strongest salve.

2015 in target: (1) LOVE. No more lashing out on others, and especially no more lashing out on myself. (2) STRENGTH. Committing to physical health, realizing that spiritual and mental health cannot be detached from it. (3) WISDOM. Investing on what matters, instead of temporary gains and pleasures.

Lifting the Cloud

For the sake of my arm that is once again scaly and rough, I hope this works.

Broken Promises

Today I broke a promise I made to myself. Old habits/coping mechanisms die hard.

Time and Tolerance

My take on time is fairly simple. If I like you, whether romantically or platonically, I would generally want to spend time with you. But the time I spend with friends rests on certain conditions. The more aggressive or vexing you are, the less time I can tolerate to spend with you. Alternatively, the more I feel comfortable around you, the more likely I can tolerate you for longer periods. If I am interested in you, expect me to want to spend time with you. It's my dalagang Filipina way of saying, "Hey I like you. Would you like to get to know me better?"

Of course, if I don't like you, i I'm uncomfortable around you, if your personality stresses me out, or if your presence vexes me to a point where I feel like lashing out... I'll avoid you.

You may or may not take my desire to be around you as criticism, but let me try to illustrate my feelings by taking an example from the animal world: I'm like a turtle. I'm slow to warm up to people and I'm mostly fearful of strangers. I take time to embrace people individually because that's really the extent of my capacity. I am patient but my patience has limits. The more you tap on my shell, the more I withdraw. If you try to infiltrate my safe space, and if I have sharp teeth, I could bite.

I Miss You, Part Whatever

She can take over your room, she can take over your chores, she can try to copy your style of cooking, but she'll never be you.

Every dish you used to make, every crease you'd smooth away, every silent tear and quiet wound that you kept a secret for me... I always knew you did it for love. For me.

Now I feel so empty. Because no matter what anyone will say, you remain far away from me.

Diet Pains

The worst part of dieting is the times you forget.

My diet plan is simple. I eat smaller portions to make my stomach smaller, so I won't feel hungry as often, and I'll feel full faster. Based on the feedback I've been getting from people around me, it's been working. Personally, I haven't seen any changes when I look at the mirror. But I do seem to not need as much food recently - which is good, both for my body and my wallet.

My problem is that I sometimes forget.

Take tonight, for example. My mom asked me to go with her to Chelsea Market & Café at Serendra, and of course I was lured by the promise of free food and a promising change in study venue. Alone in my little corner, I ordered my staple café fare (i.e., anything with pesto). My order arrived and I dug in, only to later to feel intense pain radiating from my stomach. In a nutshell, I felt like I was going to burst.

I was eating as much as I used to; the problem is, my stomach cannot take in as much food as it used to.

So there you have it, a painful heads up that my diet plan is actually working.

P.S. I just realized that as I was eating, I was using the spoon to shovel food into my mouth directly from the dish (manners dictate that I should transfer the food into a plate and eat it from there, using a fork). Oops.

Comfort

There are very few people in the world who I can truly say I am fully comfortable with. I could probably count those people in one hand, give or take an extra finger. They're the select few who I never get tired of, with whom I never have to make up excuses so that I can have some much needed space. They understand my need to be alone and when I need their support. So when I do find such people, I treasure them immensely.

Life is difficult enough without having to bend for others all the time.