The end of things.

Kyas moved to the next round last Monday at 11 am. If it was 11 am exactly, I wouldn't know. I wasn't there. Why is it that we think knowledge is power? If I would have known he was going to die that time, that day, I would have gathered my resources to be by his side and this goes out to every person I still consider as a friend.

Why do we love beating deadlines?

We don't accept it, but that's a fact. We are addicted to deadlines. It's funny how it's called deadlines. It's the end of the line. Unless, the boss is kind, he may give an extension. Like how God delays our deaths every moment of every day. Have you ever thought about it? Every breath we take is an extension to a deadline. We are already dead though it's just a matter of time. Unless, of course, someone had discovered immortality potion or fountain of youth or any spell that could make you live forever which I think is kind of dumb. There's no person in his right mind who would like to live forever. If you like that, I hate to say this but you're crazy. You're the type who would play level 1 of games and never proceed to the next level. You're crazy.

We love beating deadlines.
And we almost always end up too late.

A few months ago in summer, my dad's oldest brother died. He wasn't very old just in his early 60's. He lived a full life and that was what really matters, doesn't it? He wasn't a procrastinator I can tell because he's a popular AM Radio personality and being that comes a great deal of responsibilities. I was thinking about how when there are times you don't like to get up in the morning and just take the day off. He can never do that unless he breaks a leg or he dies or something to that extent. It's an awesome job and he loved it. A lot of people loved him and they were there in his funeral. Hundreds of them.

Kyas was funny. He was sweet to me. He must be sweet to everyone. I do not want to wake his corpse up (sorry, Kyas) but I guess it's worth telling the world that there was something between us. Every time we meet, which is just a few times a year, he would do and say something that would turn up my stomach. (sorry, Kyas) If he was like this to all the girls he had met, they should blog about it too. haha. What he said or did, is between me and his departed soul --- but it was special. He made me feel special a few times a year. There was one time I almost fell for it but then he never made it official. He just fed me a lot of chips and a lot of Coke and talked to me about sexual positions between people and sometimes between people and objects (like door knobs). This is what he does, we see each other and hug and he would lead me away from the crowd and we would take a short hike to a store where he'd tell me to "pick what I like". He would tell me I didn't lose weight and he would look real disappointed to find out that I didn't. And he must be real disappointed that he is into a BBW. haha. No, he didn't tell me he liked me but he couldn't keep his hands off me. It was a perfect match because, with the right amount of alcohol, I like to be touched. He made me drink a lot.

Kyas was funny. It wasn't exactly a date he was asking for but from the fact that we're going to be alone together and maybe some door knobs, it's going to become a date. And paranoid as I am, I declined when he offered me private bass guitar lessons. I declined any meeting that would not include anyone else. He was too smart. He was too funny. He was too generous. And I was too afraid to deal with it because I know I couldn't handle him.

But then again, he never tried. He didn't have to. It's just, we're okay that we're friends a few times a year. And touch-y feel-y friends after a round of drinks. (sorry, Kyas)

Monday, around 5pm, I got the text from his friend and band mate, Ivan, that he had gone. I didn't cry. I just couldn't believe it. Until now, two days later, it's still unreal to me. I'm still waiting for my tears to fall if it would ever. I don't know. I think I might, pretty soon. But maybe I just couldn't find any reason to cry. Maybe he made me too damn happy in all those few times a year that we meet, which made it all the more special. I'm really sorry Kyas, if I might not cry about your passing. We were just so damn happy.

There are many things I am going to write about the end of things aside from mortality. There are also the end of beautiful relationships, my weaning from addictive behavior and so on.

In my next posts, love.

Kyas moves to the next round.

I'm sorry I didn't...

...text you a lot like you wanted me to...

...go to your birthday party...

...go to your baby's christening...

...put up a band with you.


I'm sorry I didn't...



...give you this cap when you begged for it the whole night.

I could not remember a moment you didn't give me...




something to eat and drink...



...and something to laugh about.

You were one of the happiest people I know. You were sunshine.

I'm sorry I wasn't able to tell you this.

Now, you can't hear me.

Thank you, Kyas. I couldn't thank you enough.

Now, you can't hear me. But maybe I will dream tonight and tell you that --

You were the only person aside from family who asked me to go back to school.

And I wasn't able to tell you this, but I took to heart what you said --

Remember? You told me I am smart and I have to use it. You didn't ask.

Remember? You didn't ask. It was an order. And we laughed.

All we did was laugh.

That was enough.

I didn't tell you this, but Kyas, I'm now in school.

I love you and I wish I made you happy, somehow,

the way you made me happy.

Goodbye, Kyas. See you up there.

Once upon a homework...

Absorbed with all the school work and preliminary exams, I had been slack in here as well as my other blog. Plus, the computer modem had been blinking it's lights telling me that he's giving up. No internet at home for a couple of weeks. Now, with a brand spankin' new modem and some free time, I'd like to share something I did for my History 3 homework. Let's geek out.

My reflection on Mikaela Fudolig's valedictory speech, "Take Not the Road Less Travelled" on April 28, 2007 at UP Diliman.

When I was sixteen, the thought of going to college and picking out the course I am going to take had dominated the end of my high school days. Something that would assure me of a high-paying job, my parents agree. Something that I would enjoy doing, I agree. Ultimately, these are the common goals I shared with the hundreds of us flocked in the coliseum with our white togas and nostalgic hearts on.

What does an average sixteen-year-old’s thoughts involve? Friendships, family and future. Which comes first, depends on the person. When faced everyday with the news that our country’s economic stability is going nowhere but down, and that there are easier ways to overcome life’s difficulties, the average sixteen-year-old will most likely take the easier way to things. Who cares about dreams when your stomach is empty? Money is power and the lack of it is the dark and unthinkable future. In the olden days, people go to college for prestige and recognition. Diplomas framed in every living room. Today, people go back to college after a year of working odd jobs having to face with the fact that a diploma is a necessary requirement to get promoted or even hired and graduating students usually are working full-time way before their graduation pictures are taken.

If I am sixteen today, what Mikaela spoke about is a kind of dreamy, illusory advice by a girl who obviously has everything. Intellectual prowess, well-to-do family, opportunities from left to right. But I am not sixteen. I am a twenty-five-year-old who had dreams broken, opportunities passed up, and is trying to rebuild her life. With this, I can compare her valedictory speech to a tank of oxygen for a dying patient.

True enough, she has a gift of superb intellect and money but her VISION and POSITIVITY are qualities that intellect can not manipulate and money can not buy. She had sensed that the Filipino youth are the most affected and aggravated by this country’s moral and psychological landslide. The Filipino youth had become a staggering drunkard, a pregnant teen, a child laborer, a hedonistic bastard who’s losing hope and losing trust in the country’s leaders.

This sixteen-year-old encouraged us ‘not just to take courage, but be brave… not just do well, but excel… not just take the road less traveled but make new roads, blaze new trails and find new routes.’ She encouraged us to dare to step up and stand out. Her speech tells us to do something now and it’s not only addressed to all the sixteen-year-olds in this country but to every single adult who has greater fears than ten year old children.

It amazes me how Mikaela Fudolig was admitted to college in UP Diliman at the tender age of 11. It amazes me how she graduated at the top of her class. But what truly amazes me more is how this kid with bigger opportunities waiting for her outside of the country had chosen to offer her teaching services to the Filipino students at UP Diliman. For this, I salute her not only for her age, not only for her intellect but most of all, for her Filipino heart.

*Mikaela Irene Fudolig is a Filipina who graduated at 16 years old as a summa cum laude with a general weighted average of 1.099 from the University of the Philippines, Diliman. She was only 11 when she entered college, under an experimental program that would test if the possibility of gifted children entering a university will not compromise their emotional and social development. The experiment was a success.

*To learn more about Mikki, click here and here.

*To read her valedictory speech click here.

*To hear it, click here.

If God gives you...

8 million pesos.

What would you do?


This is not a survey. Haha.

I know what I'm going to do. I'm giving it away.
But would it be alright if I keep some of it for myself?
Yes.

LOL.

Lotto lotto lotto lotto.