My Final Entry

Yes, I know I have not blogged for the longest time, almost 20 days, mainly because, time is inopportune, inauspicious, hap-hazardous, but mostly because I have no will power to do so.

A plenitude of stories awaits since the 8th of January. Whence, we, The Rule of Four (minus one), hast resolved never to leave the sheltering bounty of the Riviera City of Malabon until the sun sets in. And that probably I’ll be terrified of driving. And that being a quasi-lawyer comes in handy in cases of emergencies. That I’ll probably never step foot in Greenhills because of the sheer memory of having witnessed a Tort in action first hand, at least for the next few weeks or months or so. But most importantly, it felt great saving your friend’s ass… and you’re proud of being a damn LAWYER.

The Chinese New Year is nearing, the Year of the Fire Dog. And boy, was there either an ominous or propitious omen that befell us. Wicket, our Lhasa-Apso, gave birth to two puppies, the size of sardine cans. One died within the day. The other died after two days. I remember it by date, January 12, why? ‘Coz Wei, the previous puppy now a three year old dog, was born on Jauary 11 three years ago, on Inxs’ Birthday.

Then Zidnee, or Sydney, however, it is spelled, the Australian Shepherd, our lovely faucet of saliva with a black, white and brown fur coat, died a few days after, succumbing to a long standing sickness that she had been suffering for a few months since last year. She suffered a lot, and she will be surely missed. I remember her as a tiny shitty puppy which we picked up from Ruby Diaz’s (the sister of Madam Ms. Universe) posh house in Ayala Alabang, who loved to whelp, pee and shit on herself. Then she grew up and bore this beautiful coat so good that I’d rather have it as a floor rug, rather than a drooling walking catastrophe.

And of course, my social life ended due to the exams. Prior to that I was afflicted with German measles. Good thing German measles isn’t measles at all. I did have the classic measles when I was young. But this one is just a freak of a virus known as Rubella, as it afflicts you with the same rashes et al. Hence, it is otherwise known as the “3-day” measles. In tagalog, lagnat na may tuldok-tuldok. Or trangkasong polka-dots.

Back to the exams…. Well, what’s there to talk about? Law school life is boring as hell, and terrifying like hell for that matter. Like a Damocles’ Sword hanging over our heads. You just got to keep the faith and do your best.

We got our business back last Monday. And we achieved a little sense of peace here in our tiny kingdom where my grand sire regained his smile, and the lioness is up and about. Though, the battle’s not completely over, the heavens, the gods and the ancestors are faithfully watching over us. Lessons learned for the past year is that every cloud has a silver lining. I have learned the virtue of patience, perseverance, the importance of family, of being content with what you have, that divine justice falls in due time.

I have learned that love sometimes have to end. And sometimes you must end it if its not worth it. You know it’s over when you no longer see the magic spark in her eyes. There’s no such thing as loving a person unconditionally. Unless and until they could love you back, you better give your heart to someone who’d give theirs to you too.

I found true love, or at least, we found each other again, even for the shortest moment, thence, I found peace in the midst of the complication of things.

Things will never be the same from now on. There is no delineation before of what is and what not. Things are so intertwined that it lacks definition, incapable of pecuniary estimation. This is the task that lies before me. Something I must face head on. And I’m willing to take the fall, free myself and once again regain my being.

One day I’ll fall in love again. I don’t know when, I don’t know how. She may be an old or new face. One day, she will come to me. And I do not know her.

I am a man full of passion, hatred, love, fire, sorrow, anger, gladness and joy. I am irony. I am fire and water. I am the darkness and the light. I am confusion and enlightenment. And so with this. I end.

And now, for the Finale. Some sorta joke. Since blogger couldn't accomodate the legal format, what you see ain't the way it's supposed to look like really. At any rate, It's fine with me, since I'm the accuser, prosecutor, judge, accused and the executioner.


REPUBLIC OF THE PHILIPPINES
REGIONAL TRIAL COURT
BRANCH III
CITY OF MALABON

Criminal Case. No. 33705

For TREASON

PEOPLE OF THE PHILIPPINES
Plaintiff,


-versus-

THE JURIS ACOLYTE, otherwise
Known as “Ohme”
Accused,

x-----------------------------------------x


DECISION

The People and the Accused have agreed in the Preliminary Conference to forego with the recitation of the Facts, Issues and Ruling of the Case. Accused have theretofore admitted to the allegations in the Information and pleaded guilty thereto. That the accused voluntarily pleaded to the information with full knowledge and comprehension. He further waives his right for the People to present evidence in accordance with Section 3 Rule 116 of the Revised Rules of Criminal Procedure.


DISPOSITIVE PORTION

WHEREFORE, premises considered, accused is found GUILTY BEYOND REASONABLE DOUBT of the crime of TREASON, and is hereby punished with the Indeterminate Sentence of Reclusion Perpetua in its Medium, as Minimum, to Reclusion Perpetua in its Maximum, as Maximum.

He is further perpetually ENJOINED from exercising the Right to Blog under the known web address and appellation.

Because of the given circumstances, the case shall attain finality immediately.

WITH PREJUDICE.

Asi te Olvidarme

IF YOU FORGET ME – Pablo Nerudo

I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.

But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine.

Return of the Amalgam

And so I dream of that night 10 years ago soaked in the noon rain raging against the Tuscan sun, that I shed my tears for her and bid farewell. I, my body shattered, my heart shattered even more, clenching my fists, hardly letting go of her soul, that her bright body, I shall see no more, returning to the womb of the earth, with the lonesome violin bidding her farewell, as it pierces my soul into dolorous rapture. Amidst the black umbrellas, the black coats, black veils, of tears mingling with heavenly tears. I bid farewell to the love of my life.

It is as if her eyes were mine, and mine, hers, as we gaze into each other, hand in hand, under the lazy Roman skies, with the cooing of the doves and the clatter of hooves on the cobblestones, and the honking of the cars, the cusses of the townsfolk, the laughter of children and the scent of roses at the nearby shop mixing with the aroma of milk, sugar, chocolate, coffee and cinnamon. It was perfection.

Her hands, slender, fair, soft and gentle.

Her jet black hair flowing unto her bare marble shoulders like a river falling into a ravine.

Her eyes, infinite blackness, pure with lust and life. Innocently unbound.

Her lips, those small, dark, red lips stained with passion and wet with simple desire.

That twinkle, that spark, and the scent of her skin, intoxicating like sandalwood sweat.

She was mine. I was hers. In the lazy afternoons, we spent infinity.

We made music together. Her soft fingers traversing the veins of the violin, sometimes with joy, sometimes with soul, sometimes somnolence. I, with full force ravaging with cold, heat and ferocity the strings of the cello calling out the gods to beckon and despair.

We made perfect music together. Dissonant, harmonious, counterpoint, unison.

In the glass conservatory beneath the bright blue moon and the shivering stars our hearts and bodies became one. Her lips, sweet with tender passion and heat of pure love, on mine.

Lower to the earth her coffin lays, soaked with angelic tears and human tears, while from the distance someone intones…Pater Noster, qui es in caelis.

Everything becomes blank. I see her for the last time reaching out to me, her lips close to mine, my hand clasping her hands, her sweetness, her beauty, her pure love, for the last time, we kiss. I cannot let go. I will not let go. Until she finally slips away like sand scattered in the sea wind.

Sed Libera Nos a Malo…

She is now deep in Gaea’s arms. I, sitting still, soaked in the rain, captured and broken, desiring nothing else than see her resurrected before my very eyes. Whispering silent prayers to the winds hoping that the angels will listen and despair.

“Monique.” I call out.

“Je t’aime a jamais.”

My First Entry for the Year 2006

Fresh start, high hopes, new challenges, new life, etc. etc.

New Year’s Resolution (subject to a suspensive condition though) à less smoking, less drinking, less eating. The last part I can do quite easily, the former two… I dunno. That’s why it’s on the contingent list.

More than that, I wish to earn more of the virtue of PATIENCE.

Things we did…

Had dinner at CPK in Morato, went to Tiendesitas, had coffee at starbucks in harbour center. No Alcoholic beverages involved. Cool.

In retrospect, 2005 was the most challenging year I have ever faced, I’ve learned the value of family, honor, politics, money, pride and prejudice.

I had a tumultuous love life. But in the end, I know what I want. I know WHO I want.

I grew up, matured more, strengthened by shame, insult, injustice and mischief.

I gained new friends, acquaintances and allies.

What I didn’t have the chance to do in summer, I did all in December.

Some things I cannot speak of, which shall remain hidden in my soul. A blessing and a curse at the same time.

For all the people who have come across my life, in passing, and those whom I know will stay with me in this journey called life. Those who gave me liberty of soul, chains of passion, furious discipline and compassionate anger. Thank You.

And ultimately, I’ve learned that I am Paradox. I am Enigma. I am Irony.

more pics

some pics from our trip to iloilo and guimaras. more pics next time!

24/7 gimikan... nakakapagod!

Sa Isla ni Datu Puti.

No matter how weary and tired I am, I must journalize the events of our three-day trip to Iloilo. The good thing about it is paterfamilias is not around, and only my ‘ninang’ was our sole guardian, and of course, spoiled city brats that we are, we got what we want, and did what we desired, sine poena. Quite eventful, I must add. And fun. And fun, should be construed in light of ‘age, sub-culture, and social inklings and idiosyncrasies.’

Me, my bro, my ‘kinakapatids’ (whom we actually treat as cousins since we grew up together… Manila Zoo cubs as we were then, born and raised in the urban jungle – quite literally – ‘till my dad became lord of the animal kingdom) Lovella and Vee, my Ninang/Tita Ming arrived after the utmost delay in the Manila Airport, around past 11am in Iloilo. It is my second time to go to the island of Datu Puti, the first was in the summer of 1999, after my high school graduation, sorta, ‘blowout’ for me. Of course, back then, I wasn’t fully emancipated, so perspective-wise, it was different fun.

From the airport we we’re picked up by Love and Vee’s cousins, and my new friends, Val and Bdict (short for Benedict) and funny as it may sound, My Ninang, a true-blue Ilongga, never stepped foot in the adjacent island of Guimaras. At any rate, the compulsiveness of our youth, infecting her, we decided to have lunch at Guimaras. (Now, that’s what I call jet-setting… err… I mean, boat-setting.) We parked the car at Robinsons Place (guess what, free-parking! No fees whatsoever!) Then took a traysikol to the port, then took a ferry boat (a gargantuan motorized wooden boat ala balangay) for the ten minute trip. Upon arrival at Jordan, Guimaras port, you can see signs all over saying that it is prohibited to bring in mangoes (there I have learned that mangoes is the main economic activity of guimaras) but you can bring out as much as you want. I guess the policy is to protect the industry from alien insect invaders or what not.

From every spot people were gawking at us. As if we we’re foreigners in a foreign land. Well, sorta like that, since we’ve been wearing urbanite clothes and definitely our colors don’t camouflage with the local scenery. You could see the stark difference when it comes to economic progress, between Iloilo and Guimaras, on the other side of the channel, cosmopolitan center of Western Visayas, on the other side, backward, and assumingly a fourth class province. No mall, no major building, no big commercial complex. Nada. And as far as prices are concern (transportation and food) Guimaras commodities are cheaper from that of the other side of the channel. We took the mini-fiera and had a 40 minute, 26 kilometer road trip to Alibugho, or Puerto del Mar, that cove beach that is quite pristine, so that we can take pictures and eat lunch (which is around 2pm already). Before that, we stopped by the Trappist Monastery, where we saw monks during the noon-day prayers… uhm… praying in the chapel. Of course, there, we started the ceremonial picture taking.

After the short road trip to Guimaras (come and think of it, we just went there para lang masabing nakarating kame sa Guimaras) we returned to the City and went malling. Yeah, you get of Metro Manila in order to shop in a Mall. Nah. They just bought the necessities, while me, my bro, Val and Benedict went to a local coffee shop, to have coffee and smoke, while conversing on what particular mall or venue should starbucks be established there. Yes, Houston, there are no Starbucks in Iloilo, or for the rest of Panay even. Since the latter two are manila-urbanized, we stayed there to watch out for nice Ilonggas, and swarms of Koreans who seem to invade the archipelago and probably now the second largest east asian minority in the country after the Chinese, whom of course, are by cultural affinity, considered Filipinos.

We went to San Joaquin, where we stayed at my ninang’s husband’s mother’s house. Everybody was cheerful. Ilonggos are quite a happy people…or maybe just there in the somewhat remote part of the provinces. Urbanites always have the tendency to be snobs and busybodies. Of course, the day ended with the drinking, and for the first time, I drank Pale Pilsen all throughout the night. Around two in the morning, we we’re already a bit drunk, we decided to go to the beach, which is just around the corner, and in every backyard, as a matter of fact. The wind was strong, and the tide was furious. Of course, we didn’t swim in the dead of night, we just strolled and made noise.

The next day, we joined my ninang in their hill top school for their class reunion (which, to her bickering and ranting, wasn’t quite as organized and as orderly as it should be… of course, the Metropolitan bias always ensues.) After the mass, they had this ‘caravan’, which in Manila, we call ‘motorcade’, where we paraded from end to end of the municipality. The weird thing is the people keeps on waving at us, and so, what else could we do, I had to courteously oblige myself to wave back, feeling artista. Hahaha! After such tiring experience and due to lack of sleep, we went back home and left my ninang there to die secondary to boredom. In the afternoon, we went around and snooped at the places. We climbed on the Tower of the San Joaquin Church, well, since the gate to the belfry was closed; we had to satisfy ourselves with standing on the tiny porch at the façade. Whew! It was scary! We then went to this other tower in the Pasungay Stadium, the place where they hold bull-fights during fiestas, and viewed the scenery of the sea, mountains, and the field, where goats apparently play soccer. (Yeah, 12 grazing goats in the soccer field look like a team to me.)

Much later in the afternoon, we decided to take a dip in the sea. (which is Baybay in Kinaray-A) Where over the horizon, I saw a thunderstorm ensuing, after thirty minutes or so, it hit landfall, and it hit hard. We had to return to shore lest we be murdered by lightning or the tempest or be swallowed by the sea. At any rate, it was cool! Since it we were already wet, we decided to shower in the rain. We were just out there along the road, in front of the house, standing, sitting at the porch, while the wind was howling and rain gushing forth, ‘til it died down. This is one thing obviously most of us don’t do in Manila. After the rain stopped, we then had the real shower, dressed up and went to this local search for Little Miss Vag Thols. (Yes, it is a word, although, it sounds like baktol, it is not the same. It is allegedly a local organization or what not.) And all throughout the night, Pinoy Big Brother theme was playing ad nauseam, in between the commentaries and conversations of the people in the dialect which I barely understood.

Here’s the catch, there’s this pretty (think PRETTY as in Angel Locsin pretty) girl that performed an intermission number. She was wearing a red dress and she performed some ballroom moves with an ulikba of a partner. Mala-ebony at ivory kumbaga. Damn! She was graceful, poised, sexy and hot!!!! Then, I learned she was only high school. Hahaha! Tough luck! At least we made I contact. Hehehe. They performed the foxtrot first, then the forbidden dance, el tango, which I have to admit (and I beg the pardon of you my dear readers) that I was quite turned on by her moves. Afterwards, the salsa. (Yeah, dirty dancing the movie).

We went back home to continue the drinking. I retired around 1am ‘coz I’m dead tired and today was quite a long day.

Day Three – we went to the Campo Santo, that old Spanish Cemetery in San Joaquin, where the smell of bat droppings is considered sacred to environmentalists. It was beautiful in an eerie way, not awesome as the churches, but historically and architecturally significant. We also went to the Miag-ao Church, the one on the World Heritage Sites List, and instinctively, went atop the bell tower again in order to be terrorized by the height and the cavernous dungeon-like staircase up the façade and the tower itself. We also went to Ex-congressman Oscar Garin’s house, a friend of my dad’s and my ninang. And I can say only two words: MTV CRIBS.

So much of the good things must end, after touring the other churches and places, like UP VISAYAS, we went to the airport and returned back to Manila, after another delayed flight. Again. And guess what. It was Larai, an acquaintance from AB, who was one of the flight attendants on our Cebu Pacific flight. I had this feeling that I’ll see her (or probably Paolo Castro) in Cebu Pacific. Mall rats as we are, we immediately went to Harrison Plaza where we parted ways for the moment, I went to Rustan’s and got me David Beckham’s INSTINCT, while the others went to SM and everywhere. Now I’m sitting here, tired and blogging all the way. It was a great trip, though so short it may be. Loved it.

And of the things I’ve learned….

1. ‘Bata’ is ‘Anak’ in Kiniray-A. So, in Tagalog if you say ‘bata siya ni rommel’, it means either ‘syota’ or ‘tauhan’ or ‘aliping sagigilid’, but in Kiniray-a, it means child.
2. The theory of relativity is quite apparent over there. The whole municipality is related, either by consanguinity or affinity, up to the 100th civil degree.
3. They live simple lives, but they are happy.
4. Hiligaynon is the Language, while Ilonggo is the people.
5. Kiniray-a and Hiligaynon are the two dialects of Iloilo.
6. What to Manileños is superstitious, is a way of life for them, and is based on facts historically learned from experience. They know nature unlike we do.
7. Ilonggos have such a rich culture.
8. Food was good. Especially the Inasal.
9. Andam sa Ido means BEWARE OF DOG.
10. In between lines you can probable understand what they are saying.
11. Don’t swim in the beach during storms or tempest.
12. What casual wear to us, is foreign wear to them.
13. They are such hospitable.
14. The Tagalog ‘NG’ is ‘SG’ in Hiligaynon.

Pictures will follow soon after they’ve been downloaded.

Papanaw muna ako. Damo Salamat sa inyong tanan!

The Juris Acolyte will be out on Vacation, 26-28.