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.

Long lost book...

I couldn't remember the last time I have partially read this book, or have I read it to the end? It escapes me. One thing I'm sure of is that it had been several years ago.

I was surprised to see it in Mimi's bedroom. Her family have just moved into a new house a few months back and last week was my first time to go there. I was lounging in her bedroom and saw it atop the nook of the dresser.

It was Living, Loving and Learning by Leo Buscaglia, Ph.D.

I borrowed it back. I want to learn again that when you re-read a book, it's always different every time. I am reading random chapters of it and I remember some. I am smiling most of the time. I never thought that I have been paying attention to Buscaglia. All those years passed and I'm happy to find that I applied (some of) it.

It's hard to find a favorite part of such a beautiful book but in every point of your life, there will always be words that will fit.

At this moment, here is mine. Buscaglia wrote:

I don't know where you put me, but believe me, I'm nowhere else than where you are. I'm just as confused. I'm just as lonely. I'm just as despairing. I cry as often. I have no more answers than you do. I've just stopped asking the questions. I'm just involved in the process. I'm not even asking for answers anymore. I just think it's a wonderful thing that I am. And people write me letters, and they say, why death? Why pain? Why must children die? Why must we be despairing, etc? I write back and say "How the hell should I know?" Greater people than I have been asking those questions for centuries. I don't know why. But I do remember that many, many years ago, somebody said that sometimes we get so involved in the questions that we don't live the answers.


I say Amen to that.
I say if you are looking for a book to while away the time, pick this up. Pick it up because it's real.
Among all the fiction piling up in your room, go get this beautiful non-fiction. Who knows you can positively live your life because you got bored.

^_~

Out of guilt? Out of love? Or guilt because I love Him?

Today, I received this e-mail from Brother Bo:

+++

TWO-FACED CHRISTIAN

“No one can serve two masters. He will either hate one and love the other.” – Matthew 6:24

A woman asked a priest to officiate the blessing of her newly-opened grocery store. The blessing was scheduled on a particular date. On that day, a typhoon hit Metro Manila and all the streets surrounding her grocery were flooded. The priest called the lady and asked if they could postpone the blessing of the place. But the lady insisted since her “stars” revealed that that was a lucky day. So, with their feet submerged in water, the blessing pushed through.

How often do we succumb to these kinds of practices? On New Year’s Eve, some people wear polka dots, put coins in their pockets or buy 12 kinds of round fruits for good luck. Others consult their horoscopes or a fortuneteller to guide them in their decisions.

Most people say, “I’ve got nothing to lose when I do these things.” But as professed Christians, we need to be vigilant regarding what we get ourselves into. By believing in superstitions, we are offending God and opening ourselves to danger. The first commandment states, “I am the Lord Your God; you shall not have strange gods before Me.”

Who do you worship? Our choices and our actions reveal whose side we are on. Judith Concepcion

REFLECTION:

Make a decision today to worship God alone and renounce all other gods in your life.

Lord, forgive me for having offended You. You are my Lord and my All.

+++

All the things that I have been thinking lately are becoming too clear that denial would be incredibly intentional. What am I doing with my life? I am making people happy. I am pleasing them the same as I am pleasing myself. But what am I doing to God? Why do I always fall away? Why am I letting these things happen? Having fun. Prioritizing the worldly life? Of course I'm not tired of it all. What person would get tired from having fun and living the kind of life and having the circle of friends that I have?


God, I have been asking for signs. All I ever asked for most is wisdom. I said once that I'm going to follow You from now on but look at me, I am such a failure.


Today, in my humblest way, I'm going to follow the signs You've been sending me.

I kissed dating goodbye.

Last month, I had this unexpected date with my best friend Mimi. It had been unbelievably almost a year since we got to spend time just with each other (since she had a boyfriend and job and I had the music scene and school). She came over to my apartment and took me to SM. There was a lot to catch up on.

We ate and laughed and took pictures and browsed around inside Powerbooks, and we were standing there in front of the bright light of the inspirational section and she saw me reading the back portion of a book and she asked me if I liked it and I said I've heard a lot about it. She told me that she had been wondering what gift to get me that month since my birthday had already passed and she just didn't get to decide. That day, she bought me this book...



That night, I read the introduction. The author, Joshua Harris, thanked the reader for picking up his book. He also wrote that some people never get past the title.
I started reading the first chapter and it kept me awake for some days.
I had to stop reading.
It was too much to bear. It was too much information and truth and affirmation.

Why affirmation?

Because whenever I have a question or whenever I wonder, I have this habit of asking myself first before I turn to anyone or anything else. And not even halfway through, the book had already told me things that I already asked myself many times before, that I already knew the answers to. I already knew the answers but why am I in the same vicious cycle over and over again? Falling in and out of love (is it really)?

And I stopped reading it for now because it is painful. The truth is painful and scary and hard and never convenient.

With things like relationships, my part was most of the time, the third person (I was about to say party but it sounded malicious he he).The witness. The analyst. The one-man-cheering-squad. I even think I have more experience than most people who are actually 'in the relationship'. Not to be cocky, but I knew better simply because thinking had always been a huge part when I feel 'in love' maybe because early on in my life (before I even had my first romantic relationship), I've seen the people around me experience a lot of pain out of diving into one relationship to the next looking for the right person or living with the wrong people that they try to change. Looking for people who will complete them because that's the way it's supposed to be right? If you love somebody you can't breathe without him, live without him, be without him.

You can't be complete without him.

If you are in love, it is the only truth you know. But if you step back from the feeling, that statement is actually a total mess. And it's not the other person's mess. It is yours.

I have this friend, let's just call her Mary. When we were in high school Mary was a tomboy like me. We cross-dress wearing mainly baggy pants and t-shirts and canvass shoes. We even played in the high school band as drummers (not baton twirlers) and the softball team. Most of our friends were guys. Being naturally pretty, Mary was always hit on by the guys but because she was a tough chick, nobody messed around with her. We had a great friendship until she started dating.

When we were in high school falling in love is the biggest thing that could happen. It was like an earthquake that only you could feel. A storm that only you can get hit. Then your friends are the news team to cover the entire story. In high school, the big exam don't come as close to the fact that your crush said hi when you bump into each other in the hallway. If he admits he likes you back, it's winning the lottery.

So Mary began dating. At first it wasn't love, she told me. I remember the guy cried his way to her heart. Waiting outside the school. Admitting to getting fevers and not being able to sleep. At first, she didn't care. Mary was tough but then she told me, what the heck! In a week, the guy became her boyfriend. They did everything together and I was there. I saw the whole trail of the train but too young to foresee that it's gonna be a wreck at the end. I stood by her through their petty fights and childish accusations. I was on the phone with them. I was there when they finally broke up after 2 weeks. Mary and I were 15. The guy was 14.

Then Mary being broken-hearted, promised me and herself that she's never ever going to fall in love again. To hell with boys. We were happy once more hanging out with our usual crowd. Then out of nowhere she's at it again. She didn't tell me that she'd met this guy. I found out only when they're already together. So I sat by and watched them. Being the supportive friend, I was there. The same train wreck, only it lasted for almost 2 years. Mary and I were 17. The guy was 16. I asked her once about the promise she made. She told me to grow up and said that it's time we should start practicing for the future. I believed her because I felt different. Everybody was getting hooked and I was there, alone and boyfriendless.



For years it made me feel disappointed in myself. I thought there is something wrong with me. Why is it that whenever the opportunity comes for me to be with someone, there is something inside me that says. DON'T.

One guy friend used to tell me that I'm too picky. My girl friends tell me I should drop the weight and start wearing a skirt for the guys to notice me more. A guy friend told me I didn't have to do that. Instead, I should just stop thinking too much, he said. I was terrified. Because I know that without my head, I would come down to nothing.

And now, a book and a preacher proved me right.
All along I heard that voice that says DON'T. I thought it was paranoia. I thought it was fear of heartbreaks. I thought it was fear of commitment. I didn't know it was God's way of telling me to love myself first instead of seeking someone to feed my loneliness and romantic musings. It takes a lot of courage to admit it and it is only by grace that I finally start to see things more clearly.



I have had my share of relationships. From long distance to not-so-long distance. All I can say is that when the person you love becomes your all, you get lost. When you say you love that person because, I found myself when I found you, you are totally loving that person for all the wrong reasons.


I will continue reading my book, with courage, that I pray.
Because there is an entire world to tell you about how I'm going to kiss dating goodbye. Even, I, have an entire world to learn.

For now, I leave you with this little something in my head.

True love starts when the feeling ends.
True love is when you start to decide.

Inked for life.

Moving along the story of my tattooed existence, this is going to be a very long read-intensive post. (You may want to grab some popcorn and drinks. LOL)

December of last year was a huge turning point in my life. My faith was renewed. My religion stays the same (Catholic) but my life was changed. For many months, I had been searching for answers to a lot of things that had been bugging my mind. I prayed constantly to find something, anything that will give me peace.

If you research about it, depression has a lot of symptoms. I didn't have one. Or my pride was too high to show anybody that I was keeping a lot of these symptoms hidden. I kept it inside. I wouldn't dare talk about it even to the closest people to me. Not family nor best friends. Depression is something to laugh about if you are from here. It's not even talked about. I've never met anyone who was clinically depressed. It is not acknowledged. 'Depressed' is a word used when you are heart-broken. You are merely problematic. If you are depressed, there's got to be a reason then. If the reason is good enough, they'd expect you to go out or eat a lot of sweets or get drunk to get over it. If you can't point out a reason why you've lost interest in life, then you are a brat. That's what they'll think. After all, there are millions of people in the world who are starving. You don't have the right to be depressed. Depression is a hollywood tale.

So I didn't have anything to call what I was going through. I had problems but I knew those things weren't the main reason as to why I was in a rut. Plus, I was quite distracted by all sorts of activities to be caught locked up in my room for weeks. I had to carry all these things as I go through my everyday existence. I was empty. God was quite busy somewhere, I thought, but I kept praying.

One night, I saw this comment posted by an online friend to her own page. She said she had fun at GenRev Night. Now, I have heard of GenRev Night before but I have never been to one. GenRev is a shorter term for Generation Revolution, a community of Catholic students who gets together for a revival meetings and such. I always see banners for it but only once or twice a year. So I saw this comment and I sent a message to this online friend asking for details. She told me that there is a GenRev Night every Saturday in a Chinese school in the middle of the city! It was a light bulb moment my hands were shaking, my heart was beating really fast. I couldn't remember what day it was but I knew I waited for a few days till I was able to experience it.
I prayed then and swore to God that I'm going there the next Saturday no matter what.



That week, my friend RR told me that his tattoo artist friend Ryan is opening up his new tattoo shop. I was surprised to learn that Drakki, the studio where I got first inked had already moved out long ago and that same studio is now occupied by Ink For Life. RR invited me to the opening party and it was that same Saturday that I am going to GenRev!

My heart skipped.

In the past months, I had been searching for a new artist to work on me. I wanted to get inked again. Someone who charges affordable but who has light hands and great with the machine. I planned to go back to Russell but since he moved into a better business building, I thought he would charge more. So I waited and it came.

I asked my great artist friend Nicolo to make me a stained glass sacred heart design. I loved what he did and so with it in my hand, I went to GenRev that fateful Saturday night. That night was a flood of emotions. It was raining as I walked around the area searching for the right building and then, I was guided by voices towards the hall. The moment I set foot inside the door and saw the bright lights in front of me, I cried a bucket of tears. I was saved. I was called. All questions erased in less than thirty minutes. There are not enough words to fill this blog what I had found that night (or what God has revealed to me) but that was it. I was a changed person when I left GenRev.


(It was God's party.)


After the revival, I walked the streets to get to the shop. From afar, I saw RR smoking outside. He welcomed me and said they have been waiting for me. It turned out he already told Buddhi (the owner) and Ryan that I have a design ready. We were introduced. They were very nice and Ryan checked my design. I told him I want it in the middle of my chest. For a moment he got quiet and smoked. He then asked if I am sure that I truly want it on my chest. I said yes. That night, I was affirmed more than ever that God had something to do with everything. I let fate lead my feet to where I was going. I was even waiting for a distraction from anyone. One text message or call to tell me to be somewhere else, and I would have canceled that meeting. I prayed for it. There was nothing. It even stopped raining. I was laughing deep inside of how things are going that night. It was hilarious.

I said yes. He said he wants to be honest with me as much as possible. I said What is it? He said the chest is one of the most painful parts of the body to get tattooed on. I told him I already have one tat on my shoulder. I thought to myself it couldn't be that bad! So he set a schedule. It was the Monday after that weekend. I usually suck at remembering details but that night was one of the most incredible nights of my life.


In my head was a bible passage read out that Saturday night. It was John 15:4 and it goes:
Remain in me, and I in you, as the branch is not able to bear fruit of itself, if it may not remain in the vine, so neither ye, if ye may not remain in me.

It ran through my head over and over and over. Remain in me. Remain in me. Like the tattoo that is forever. Remain in me.


(excruciating pain)

Ryan was right. The worst pain I have ever experienced was when I was rushed to the hospital because of UTI a few years back. It felt like my body was going to be cut in half right in the middle by swords. It lasted two days. The chest tattoo felt the same only, it lasted two hours. But it was worth it. Everytime people ask me if it hurt, all I say is that it's like giving birth. The labor was torture but all pain is gone when you see the baby. haha.

To the amazement of everyone in the shop, I didn't cry or ask Ryan to stop. In fact, he was the one who asked for a break. He went up (the shop was a basement) outside to smoke. I didn't ask for a re-schedule either. Ryan said it's true that women have a higher tolerance of pain than men. I couldn't agree more. It was a done deal and I payed a thousand pesos for it. It was a good deal.

In the days of healing, I visited the shop regularly. Hanging out with everyone there. We became good friends that even lead to me organizing a gig to promote the shop. I took some friends over to check out the shop and some of them became clients and buddies (which I will feature in another post).

One night (this happened when I used to drink), Ryan and Buddhi asked me if I wanted to get a chest piece carrying their name. I was having second thoughts since it was never a great idea (for me) to get name tattoos. It turned out they were kidding about that part but not about the chest piece. It was all I ever wanted but I knew that I couldn't afford it. Then Ryan said it was going to be for the tattoo competition in January the following year and it will be 100% sponsored. I almost died with glee. I gave them my 100% yes.

I had no idea for a design. Weeks later, I went to my schedule. It was almost Christmas then and I told myself it was going to be the best Christmas ever.

Ryan came up with these babies.


I thought they were adorable.

On New Year's day when the wounds healed up, Ryan came up with the background.


I couldn't be happier.

With all the colors that are just stunning, I had the best Christmas gift.
My chest piece won First Prize in the Annual Tattoo Competition (under Ready-Made Colored Category) last January 2008. Another special gift I got then was how my parents took it lightly (which surprised me because they are conservative). Also, my family were all healthy that New Year and up to now, we all are in good shape. Round is a good shape. LOL. I am not depressed anymore. I have the occasional bad days but there is just nothing to be afraid of anymore because He remains in me. Most importantly, these tattoos are forever going to be a part of me. They may fade in time but it is certainly a reminder of the night that I heard God's call. It will never ever be forgotten.

My tattoo has a story.

And it will have sequels. ^_~