Siya ba?
o siya?
o isa sa mga ito?
o siya ba talaga ang para sa akin?
I need to decide na dahil nung isang gabi lang ang may dalawang nagsuntukan diyan dahil sa akin. Please. Totoong survey po ito. Pampa-haba ng hair. Promise.

Noong Linggo ay hindi talaga ako dapat manonood ng laro ng DLSU vs ADMU sa personal na kadahilanan. Pero dahil may kausap ako somewhere sa Ali Mall (high school memories! Skatetown!), napadpad pa rin ako sa Gateway. At dahil gusto kong makita sina Bea at Camille, dumaan pa rin ako sa Pizza Hut, ang meeting place ng TGroup na kasa-kasama ko sa panonood kapag may game ang Green Archers.
Later on, pumasok na sila sa Araneta samantalang ako ay nagpunta muna sa Ali Mall. Saglit lang yun. Pagbalik ko, halos 30 minutes akong nakatunganga sa green gate. Nag- toss coin – head kung manonood, tail hindi. Ilang beses kong dinaya sarili ko, kasi puro head lumalabas. Ilang beses din akong kinausap ng mga nag-aalok ng condo. Yung isa, pinagtripan kong pakinggan. Maya-maya may lumapit sa aking naka-asul, at tinanong ako ng: dude you have a ticket already? Got spare, you might want it, for free.
Di agad ako nakasagot. Una, English. Hehehe. Pangalawa, naka-asul siya, naka-green ako. Bakit ako? Dami namang Atenista diyan na walang tiket. Pangatlo, gwapo siya at maganda katawan. Again, bakit ako? Hinawakan ko ang ulo ko, ang alam ko kakagupit ko lang ng semi kalbo, bakit parang ang haba-haba ng hair ko?
Nakasagot na rin ako sa wakas, in English! You know, I’d be glad to take it, But I already have one…thank you!. At parang gusto kong mag quarter-turn dahil tapos na ang q and a portion. Pero bumanat uli siya, ah ok, I just thought you don’t have yet…
Naisip ko na kaya inakala niyang di pa ako pumapasok dahil nag-aabang pa ako ng libreng tiket.
Pumasok na rin ako sa wakas at ito ang pinakamaganda sa lahat, dahil sa kaartehan ko, ang tiket ko pala ay sa Ateneo side. Ang upuan ko ay napapaligiran ng blue people na hiyaw ng hiyaw ng one big fight. Hmp.
3rd quarter, alam ko na more or less ang kahihinatnan ng game, nagpunta ako sa CR, hindi para umiyak sa napipintong pagkatalo pero para mag-jingle bells. Wiwi, pagpag, hugas ng kamay at emote sa salamin. May naka-asul na bumati sa akin: You’re so thin, what’s your secret?
Siya uli.
Promise, di ko siya kilala. Unang-una, Atenista siya. Pangalawa, Ateneo ang team niya. Pangatlo, naka-asul siya.
Bumirit uli, sorry, you might not know me, but I always see you watching games. Like for 10 years already! And as far as I can recall, you were so chubby before!
Di naman agad ako nakasagot, parang akong si Dindi Gallardo na iniinterview ni Apa Ongpin sa Bb. Pilipinas. Parang gusto kong bumanat ng I beg your pardon?’ Pero napaka-high school naman nun.
‘I’m attending yoga classes, into free weights…but no deprivation diet, just everything in moderation’
‘That’s kewl’ , sagot niya, ‘Saang gym ka?’
E marunong naman palang mag-tagalog. Binanggit ko yung pangalan ng gym, saang branch at kung ano-ano pang chika. Saglit naming nakalimutan ang laro, saglit kong nakalimutan yung pagkatalo ng LaSalle, saglit kong nakalimutan yung dahilan kung bakit ayaw kong manood ng laro. [At buti na lang nanood ako!]
‘Oh, we better get back inside…sorry for LaSalle, hehehe, see you around. By the way, I’m _________. Add me on FB.’
Nauna siya pumasok. Ako nakatunganga at parang may background music: Believe it or not I’m floating…’
Hinawakan ko yung buhok ko, ang haba-haba na lalo ng long hair ko, mula Araneta hanggang Eastwood sa haba. Itsura mo lang Rapunzel.

During my power nap at the office yesterday, Mama appeared three times in my dream. First, I was having lunch with my Green Archers-T-Group friends. We were talking about the recent game and suddenly I saw Mama listening intently, gulping below zero Red Horse Beer in between. Then the scene segued to dinner with my Sunday Group; she was there looking at me, waiting for me to raise a strong opinion against those bishops. But her disarming smile made me stop, as if she was reminding me when to give in an argument. And the last scene was with my brothers; there she was at her favorite side of the sofa, laughing with us at Vice Ganda antics. It was so real, surreal.
I miss Mama. I miss our breakfast together. I miss her fried rice, pork and beans and sunny side up. I miss her litany of bills to be paid and things needed to be bought. I miss her juicy stories about our neighbors. I miss those times she would check on my sleeves, ask if I had a hankie with me, and finally whisper ‘ingat’ before I’d leave for work.
I miss Mama. I miss her sinigang na baboy, tinolang manok, atay at balun-balunan and her ‘world-famous’ binagoongan’. I miss the way she looked at me. I knew when she needed something; I knew when she wanted to tell me something. She knew when I need a hug. She knew when I want to be alone. I miss her pat at the back; I miss her ‘ kaya mo yan, anak.’
I miss Mama. I miss our TV marathon. I miss our discussions about anything under the sun. She was the one who encouraged me to voice out but no vent, to raise an opinion but not to start an argument; she taught me how to listen and give in. I miss her courage, against all odds, against all bills. I miss her candor, her jokes, even at the time Meralco cut our electricity. I miss her charm; even at times I would feel angry for those unpaid bills. I miss her sweetness, I miss her strength. For me, she’s the original Iron Butterfly. I miss her ’pasensiya na anak, alam mo naman sa’yo lang ako nakasandal.’ The truth is si Mama ang sandalan ng aking buhay.
It makes no little wonder she appeared in those scenes in my dream yesterday. In all those vignettes, I was with people closest to my heart. I was with people I’m most comfortable with. I was with people I truly love. And there she was, and will always be, at the center of them all.
Usually, I would wake up from my power nap feeling cold and numb. But yesterday, I felt warm. It was like somebody was hugging me all the time. I touched my face and noticed dried tears. Mama has probably wiped them for me, just like what she would always do when she was still alive.
I miss you, Mama. I love you.
Araw-araw nagsusumikap akong makapagsimba. Ganito ang routine ko sa umaga: gigising ng 4-4:30AM. Magdarasal, maglilitanya, magninilay. Magbabasa ng Ebanghelyo mula sa Pandesal, magbubukas ng Bibliya para sa Pagbasa at Salmo. Magninilay at magmuni-muni habang nagkakape. Tapos, magbabawas at maliligo. Lalabas para tumakbo at dadalo sa 5:45 AM Mass. May mga araw na sumasablay o di na talaga kaya at pag ganun ay tila may kulang o parang may mali sa aking araw.
Kaya masakit sa aking tawagin akong ipokritang bakla. Sayang daw ang madalas kong pagpunta sa Simbahan. Wala naman akong sinasabi na ako'y santo o pinakabanal o baklang pinagpala sa lahat. Ang totoo, kaya nga ako nagsusumikap magsimba araw-araw ay dahil sa ako'y mahina at makasalanan. Ang totoo, sa kabila ng aking pagdadasal ay may pagkakataong ako pa rin ay nadadapa at nasasadlak sa putik. Ang totoo, kaya nga ako nagsisimba dahil nais kong may makapitan, may masandalan, may masilungan, may masabihan, may makayakap --- sa lahat ng panahon, sa habang panahon.
Naniniwala kasi ako sa Habag at`Awa ng Panginoon, sa Kanyang Pag-ibig at Pagmamalasakit --- at dun sa pananampalataya ito ako nakakapit. Lagi ko ngang sinasabi sa sarili ko, kapit lang kay Hesus, kapit lang.
Siguro kung hindi ako nakakapit kay Hesus, nakapatay na ako ng tao. Nakipagsuntukan na siguro ako sa siksikang tren. Nabato ko na siguro bahay ng mga tsismosang sina JG at SM. Tumalon na siguro ako sa Enterprise Center. Isa na siguro akong sex offfender, tapos nakaheadline sa dyaryo, Bakla Naghipo, Tiklo. Nangholdap na siguro ako ng FX. Nagnakaw na siguro ako sa kaban ng Simbahan. Iniwan ko na siguro mga kapatid ko. Tinalikuran ko na siguro nang tuluyan ang Parokyang punumpuno ng makabagong Pariseo at Publikano. May ginilitan na siguro akong Atenista. Sinabuyan ko na ng asido ang lahat nang nang-api sa nanay ko at mga kapatid ko. Hinamon ko na sana ng sabunutan ang mala-anghel sa kabaitang si Charlie Sita na tumawag sa akin ng ipokritang bakla.
Yung karamihan sa taas ay exaggerated at extreme (echos at char-char lang, in other words). Ang pinupunto ko lamang ay ito: I could be worse than as I appear to be now. Kaya nagsususumikap akong magpakabuti. Mahihirapan siguro akong maging at makilalang mabait, pero pinipilit kong maging mabuti sa kapwa, sa sarili, sa bayan at sa harap ng Panginoon. At malaking bagay ang pagsisimba araw-araw, ang mataimtim na pagdarasal, ang tahimik na pagninilay. Dahil doon, natututo akong magtimpi, magbigay, magpa-ubaya, magmahal, umunawa at magpatawad ng iba at ng sarili.
Kapistahan ngayon ni Maria Magdalena. Pareho kaming biktima ng mga maling akusasyon, panghuhusga at 'character assassination and stereotyping'. Pareho kaming kilalang sawimpalad at talipandas. Pero pareho rin kaming nagsusumikap maging tapat na alagad ni Hesus, hindi mang-iiwan, hindi bibitaw. Sa aking buhay, nais ko ring sambitin ang sinabi ni Maria Magdalena sa Ebanghelyo ngayon: ' Nakita ko na ang Panginoon at ito ang kanyang sinasabi!'
Half of me feels for her, half not. The truth is I was not really close-close to her. I got to know her only thru her boyfriend, her ex rather. The boyfriend's perennial question to me was: have you seen my girlfriend? There was an exasperating time I almost snapped back: I'm here. As if I really care. OMF! OK, I really care for the boyfriend and I would always locate the girlfriend for him. Somehow I get this silly feeling that the boyfriend made me his girlfriend-GPS. I felt so valuable to him that I had to overcome my innate gerlaluphobia – extreme fear of girlfriends. Really.
But the unexpected, which I half-expected, half-prayed for actually, happened. They broke up. The more unexpected thing was this: she opened up to me. I told her I was not the perfect person to talk to, I am biased, I am opinionated, I am a bitch and to top it all, I love her ex-boyfriend.
After we’d talked, I found myself feeling for her, at least half of me felt for her. No, it isn't sympathy. No, I won't join the hate campaign against the ex-boyfriend (repeat after me: I love the ex-boyfriend). No, it doesn't mean we are already tight. She just entrusted to me her version of the story and I just listened. That was it. Heavily opinionated that I am, I knew I made some comments about the boy, about the girl, about them, and yes, about moving on.
The girl wants to move on but first, she has to hear him say the word Goodbye.
Suddenly, that G-word became so important, so vital to one's moving on. Tell me about it, how long she would wait for the G-word? What if the boy refuses to say it or believes he has already done so? Does goodbye really matter? What if nobody wants to say goodbye because they still expect there's hello again?
Is the G-word really that essential for you to live your life again? Do you really say goodbye or you just block him or her on Facebook? Do we deserve a goodbye from a failed relationship? Do we really need, or expect someone, to say it? Is the G-word a must to finally claim that there was closure?
Half of me felt for the ex-girlfriend, half of me believes that all she wants is to see him again. And for that I wish her another G-word: GOOD LUCK!