I want to go back to school

"Then, why not? If that is your current disposition, you have the autonomy to do it and nobody should get in the way. That is your right." Forgive me, I am talking to myself.

That takes me again to a trip down memory lane. One time, Kuya M told me that one of the clear indications of a person who is likely to become a wacko is someone who unconsciously often engages in soliloquy. Yeah, I talk to myself often especially when I'd rehearse for my opening spiels working as a call center representative somewhere in Quezon City almost two years ago. Like, I'd do that everyday while enjoying the short period of my morning walks on the way to work. I had done the same thing in front of the mirror creating a teacher-student conversation by myself when I was still teaching back in my hometown prior to attending my classes. Sometimes, I just have the uncontrolled tendency to do it over and over again when letting out some smothered grudges, banters, and unspoken rants.

But I am not going crazy. And before I could have been, the volition to go back home had finally materialized. A few days after that magnificent meal, after that ambrosian experience of the product of my betrayal to my dad and my brother who industriously fed the duck with succulent earthworms almost day in and day out, I made the decision to swallow my pride and be reunited with my family. But there was a fear growing in my forsaken self. I had never got the chance to really communicate with my brothers about how my parents felt about my running away from home. I had doubts whether my dad was still willing to forgive me or not. I knew my pregnant mom was, but not him. I could picture his stoic face ignoring my plea for forgiveness. He had always been like that, not so expressive of what he felt. There were times I knew, he wanted to say he loved me despite hurting me several times but maybe he wasn't just used to that kind of drama. He hated drama madness and that is the culprit as to why we never learned how to kiss them, hug them, get their hands dabbed on our foreheads as a traditional way of showing respect to elders in the Philippines. Not even say I love you, nor greet each other "Happy Birthday."



I wanted to go back home and that yearning to see my family again after being away for several weeks was even more inflamed when I heard from a relative that my mom had just given birth to the only girl among my siblings. My happiness was beyond horizon but I felt bitter and hesitant still that seeing my family especially the newly born angel at home would entail enough courage from me. The fear I had for my inebriate dad when I was younger persisted in my teen life though he had started cutting loose from the intoxicating addiction. I had to gather my strength enough to humble before my parents especially my dad, and I almost gave up thinking how to possibly push through with the plan that day.

Almost feeling hopeless, I sought courage from the power of the ubiquitous brand of gin available in all the stores in the neighborhood with Brandon(Kuya M's younger brother) up until around ten p.m that night.

To be continued...

The Duck Hunt

I remember one time a few hours just before a stormy night. My friends and I conferred in the small living room and started discussing how we could survive the calamity and its aftermath. We went on talking about how to feed our jobless selves also in the next few days.

Kuya M's monthly allowance from his mom working in Hongkong never arrived on time and we were damn worried about how to sustain our precarious living, stuff our tummies before a cold night sleep.

One of my friends, suggested that we go loot one of my dad’s ducks in the backyard. We heard Kuya M makes the best duck recipe by glazing it with his magical and one in a million combination of tropical condiments. The idea outrightly scared me to hell. Knowing my dad considered his ducks more important than his own children was a thing to reckon with. I remember him count his ducks every afternoon when I was still at home. He'd make sure they were all well-fed and served with the copious earthworms which he had instructed my younger brother to rummage in the softer soils and the decomposing horses' dung in the backyard. I was certain my dad would kill me if he caught me red-handed but the angst ensconced in me towards him masked my fear. I agreed with the plan and just thought, "Que Sera, Sera, Whatever will be, will be."

We went on with the plan just before the twilight had purpled. It was a peaceful afternoon and the entire compound where our house belonged in was quiet except for our dog which momentarily yapped at my friends when we arrived a few meters from the structure through the fenced in backyard of the house. The courtyard fringed with hibiscus then was still commodious before my dad went insane selling every parcel of land he'd find profitable. The earlier weather forecast of a threatening storm might have shoved the people to stay put and prepare for a thunderous din of the night, I thought.

The quietude in the backyard gave me some consolation. It eased my worries earlier but it also sent me a more horrible picture of my what-if's to catch one of the ducks. The ducks seemed intellectually wary of the storm en route as they were gregariously huddled in their open coop but not of our devilish scheme.

With an open, empty sack of rice ready to stow one of them, my friends and I started our effortless duck hunt. I couldn't believe my eyes that in less than a minute my friend was able to catch one and managed to keep it squirming inside the sack. I felt relieved knowing we had worked on the plan without any travails. However, my compunction told me I just betrayed my dad, my family.

The ducks had started cawing loudly and to my surprise their noise didn't create much stir to bring one of my family members outside and witness my betrayal. We left through the small opening in the fenced in yard and fled through the bamboos near the river to make sure none of my neighbors would blow the whistle on our dirty tactic.

The rains had started tattooing on the roof while we were savoring the special meal Kuya M warmly prepared for us on that cold night. It was one of the best meals I have ever had and for the record my dad never found out, or might have he just feigned to send a signal that he had forgiven me?

Remorse and Hibernation

Was there a time you were in hibernation or in a hiatus? Why? How did you deal with it?

"Time is as fast as an arrow."

It sucks but I have been mulling over the reasons behind being unable to post in a long time. There are a lot of things to say. The clear-cut getting-in-the-way tuition and quotidian job I have shouldn't be mentioned since it is not a good excuse. Maybe, I was just too lazy to post. Or the fire that was for sometime ablaze just died down. I still love to blog and I just can't understand why the spark just had to fade away.

Now, I am thinking more deeply. There was a time I admitted that I have an obsessive-compulsive behavior though I never actually had to undergo a psychological test or whatsoever. I may just be too naive to understand what it really means and I was to clueless to believe that I am indeed obsessive-compulsive. Then again, I remember a time when my eye got caught in the discussion at blogcatalog about a blogger who kept changing his blog's template to deal with what he called a "cycle". An impulse that hits people with obsessive-compulsive behavior. A spurt of a chameleon-like character, being whimsical, feeble, etc. I really don't know what's eating me. Insecurities, discontentment, anxieties, sexuality...there are too many to mention. But the compunction that has been eating me away from doing the regular things I had been doing is overwhelming. I am uncertain if spilling the beans will give me a relief. This is something that has been haunting me and I have always turned to AJ for help, reasurrance, and strenght to calmly deal with it.

I am really sorry if there are people I have disappointed or people I might have cajoled to live up to my expectations, perhaps my manipulations. Maybe, this is the real me- a very complicated person whom himself doesn't even know.

Mine is September. Is yours, too?

I got tagged by Reyna Elena, Jeangrey and Parisukat with "One Year", I mean "Twelve Months", hihihi.

The rules are simple:

1.Mention the person who tagged you and create a link back to them.
2.Copy-paste the traits for all the twelve months (see below).
3.Pick your month of birth.
4.Highlight the traits that apply to you.
5.Tag 12 people and let them know by visiting their blogs and leaving a comment for them.
6.Let the person who tagged you know when you’ve done it!

I know how hard it is to be working on tags so I hope these twelve picks I am tagging may understand. Just feel free to respond if you are for it or not. Whatever it is, I won't take it against you. To be honest I myself sometimes feel reluctant in doing the tags but I have to get going as there are more sitting in piles for me. I hope guys this won't be much of a burden on you.

P.S To our fellow bloggers who have tagged me with other memes, please bear with me, yours will soon be posted here.

I was born in September.

SEPTEMBER: Suave and compromising. Careful, cautious and organized. Likes to point out people’s mistakes. Likes to criticize. Stubborn. Quiet but able to talk well. Calm and cool. Kind and sympathetic. Concerned and detailed. Loyal but not always honest. Does work well. Very confident. Sensitive. Good memory. Clever and knowledgeable. Loves to look for information. Must control oneself when criticizing. Able to motivate oneself. Understanding. Fun to be around. Secretive. Loves leisure and traveling. Hardly shows emotions. Tends to bottle up feelings. Very choosy, especially in relationships. Systematic.

Careful, cautious and organized.= I maybe careful and cautious, but to be honest, I am not organized.
Likes to point out people's mistakes.= I think I am guilty of this especially during my coaching sessions with my fellow teachers. I try to be discrete though at times and I openly welcome criticisms on my part. I acknowledge my own flaws even if there are times I tend to be a perfectionist.
Likes to criticize.= This thing I can't avoid, directly or indirectly. But I make it a point not to hurt others' feelings. On second thought, unexpressed criticism is more painful to bear, it is akin to backstabbing, so when I am compelled, I try to be open to avoid worse case scenarios.
Stubborn.= I am especially when I was younger. I have managed to understand and realize my weaknesses so it's being realistic when I get stubborn at times.
Quiet but able to talk well.= Being a highlander perhaps makes me a man of quietude but I am very much talkative when I get to know the people around.
Calm and cool.= No way, I easily freak out.
Kind and Sympathetic.= I think I am. I am basically a "pusong mamon." (soft-hearted)
Concerned and Detailed.= I sometimes care less when there seems to be no direction in the thing I do and what others do. But I am a detailed person.
Does work well.= I try to but there are times I also screw up and I lose focus.
Very confident.= Not too confident. I have my comfort zones.
Sensitive.= I try to but I think it is human instinct to be sensitive, some are just inconsiderate of others and they need to be reminded.
Good memory.= Mine I think is in its depreciating mode. I am getting older.
Loves to look for information.= I choose specific needs. I have my own interests.
Must control oneself when criticizing.= I think I really must. I try not to offend other people.
Fun to be around.=I hope some people find me that way. Unfortunately, I don't appreciate how fun to be with I am as a person but I always feel happy to be with those who are.
Secretive.= I am an introvert but I am getting over it. My life is an open book to most of the people I am comfortable with.
Loves leisure and traveling.= I do but the lack of funds and resources are my greatest obstacles.
Tends to bottle up feelings.= Yes, and it's humiliating that I burst them out when I sleep. I am a somniloquist and sometimes I talk about my hidden desires for men. (LOL)

In so saying, I am tagging the following:

Awannabe of The Life of Awannabe
Cyberpunk of Cyberpunk's So-Called Life
Glenz of Finally My Journey!
Maiylah of Maiylah's Snippets
Monaco of Keyboard Monologues
Morinn of Something To Talk About
Nick of Anything Goes
Nick of Personal Paranoia
Serena of Chat 'N Chill
Shannon of Another Blogista On The Spot
Shiera of Bisdak Babbles
Sparky of A Faeriestale

JANUARY: Stubborn and hard-hearted. Ambitious and serious. Loves to teach and be taught. Always looking at people’s flaws and weaknesses. Likes to criticize. Hardworking and productive. Smart, neat and organized. Sensitive and has deep thoughts. Knows how to make others happy. Quiet unless excited or tensed. Rather reserved. Highly attentive. Resistant to illnesses but prone to colds. Romantic but has difficulties expressing love. Loves children. Loyal. Has great social abilities yet easily jealous. Very stubborn and money cautious.

FEBRUARY: Abstract thoughts. Loves reality and abstract. Intelligent and clever. Changing personality. Attractive. Sexy. Temperamental. Quiet, shy and humble. Honest and loyal. Determined to reach goals. Loves freedom. Rebellious when restricted. Loves aggressiveness. Too sensitive and easily hurt. Gets angry really easily but does not show it. Dislikes unnecessary things. Loves making friends but rarely shows it. Daring and stubborn. Ambitious. Realizes dreams and hopes. Sharp. Loves entertainment and leisure. Romantic on the inside not outside. Superstitious and ludicrous. Spendthrift. Tries to learn to show emotions.

MARCH: Attractive personality. Sexy. Affectionate. Shy and reserved. Secretive. Naturally honest, generous and sympathetic. Loves peace and serenity. Sensitive to others. Loves to serve others. Easily angered. Trustworthy. Appreciative and returns kindness. Observant and assesses others. Revengeful. Loves to dream and fantasize. Loves traveling. Loves attention. Hasty decisions in choosing partners. Loves home decors. Musically talented. Loves special things. Moody.

APRIL: Active and dynamic. Decisive and hasty but tends to regret. Attractive and affectionate to oneself. Strong mentality. Loves attention. Diplomatic. Consoling, friendly and solves people’s problems. Brave and fearless. Adventurous. Loving and caring. Suave and generous. Emotional. Aggressive. Hasty. Good memory. Moving. Motivates oneself and others. Sickness usually of the head and chest. Sexy in a way that only their lover can see.

MAY: Stubborn and hard-hearted. Strong-willed and highly motivated. Sharp thoughts. Easily angered. Attracts others and loves attention. Deep feelings. Beautiful physically and mentally. Firm Standpoint. Needs no motivation. Easily consoled. Systematic (left brain). Loves to dream. Strong clairvoyance. Understanding. Sickness usually in the ear and neck. Good imagination. Good physical. Weak breathing. Loves literature and the arts. Loves traveling. Dislike being at home. Restless. Not having many children. Hardworking. High spirited. Spendthrift.

JUNE: Thinks far with vision. Easily influenced by kindness. Polite and soft-spoken. Having ideas. Sensitive. Active mind. Hesitating, tends to delay. Choosy and always wants the best. Temperamental. Funny and humorous. Loves to joke. Good debating skills. Talkative. Daydreamer. Friendly. Knows how to make friends. Able to show character. Easily hurt. Prone to getting colds. Loves to dress up. Easily bored. Fussy. Seldom shows emotions. Takes time to recover when hurt. Brand conscious. Executive. Stubborn.

JULY: Fun to be with. Secretive. Difficult to fathom and to be understood. Quiet unless excited or tensed. Takes pride in oneself. Has reputation. Easily consoled. Honest. Concerned about people’s feelings. Tactful. Friendly. Approachable. Emotional temperamental and unpredictable. Moody and easily hurt. Witty and sparkly. Not revengeful. Forgiving but never forgets. Dislikes nonsensical and unnecessary things. Guides others physically and mentally. Sensitive and forms impressions carefully. Caring and loving. Treats others equally. Strong sense of sympathy. Wary and sharp. Judges people through observations. Hardworking. No difficulties in studying. Loves to be alone. Always broods about the past and the old friends. Likes to be quiet. Homely person. Waits for friends. Never looks for friends. Not aggressive unless provoked. Prone to having stomach and dieting problems. Loves to be loved. Easily hurt but takes long to recover.

AUGUST: Loves to joke. Attractive. Suave and caring. Brave and fearless. Firm and has leadership qualities. Knows how to console others. Too generous and egoistic. Takes high pride in oneself. Thirsty for praises. Extraordinary spirit. Easily angered. Angry when provoked. Easily jealous. Observant. Careful and cautious. Thinks quickly. Independent thoughts. Loves to lead and to be led. Loves to dream. Talented in the arts, music and defense. Sensitive but not petty. Poor resistance against illnesses. Learns to relax. Hasty and trusty. Romantic. Loving and caring. Loves to make friends.

SEPTEMBER: Suave and compromising. Careful, cautious and organized. Likes to point out people’s mistakes. Likes to criticize. Stubborn. Quiet but able to talk well. Calm and cool. Kind and sympathetic. Concerned and detailed. Loyal but not always honest. Does work well. Very confident. Sensitive. Good memory. Clever and knowledgeable. Loves to look for information. Must control oneself when criticizing. Able to motivate oneself. Understanding. Fun to be around. Secretive. Loves leisure and traveling. Hardly shows emotions. Tends to bottle up feelings. Very choosy, especially in relationships. Systematic.

OCTOBER: Loves to chat. Loves those who loves them. Loves to take things at the center. Inner and physical beauty. Lies but doesn’t pretend. Gets angry often. Treats friends importantly. Always making friends. Easily hurt but recovers easily. Daydreamer. Opinionated. Does not care of what others think. Emotional. Decisive. Strong clairvoyance. Loves to travel, the arts and literature. Touchy and easily jealous. Concerned. Loves outdoors. Just and fair. Spendthrift. Easily influenced. Easily loses confidence. Loves children.

NOVEMBER: Has a lot of ideas. Difficult to fathom. Thinks forward. Unique and brilliant. Extraordinary ideas. Sharp thinking. Fine and strong clairvoyance. Can become good doctors. Dynamic in personality. Secretive. Inquisitive. Knows how to dig secrets. Always thinking. Less talkative but amiable. Brave and generous. Patient. Stubborn and hard-hearted. If there is a will, there is a way. Determined. Never give up. Hardly becomes angry unless provoked. Loves to be alone. Thinks differently from others. Sharp-minded. Motivates oneself. Does not appreciate praises. High-spirited. Well-built and tough. Deep love and emotions. Romantic. Uncertain in relationships. Homely. Hardworking. High abilities. Trustworthy. Honest and keeps secrets. Not able to control emotions. Unpredictable.

DECEMBER: Loyal and generous. Sexy. Patriotic. Active in games and interactions. Impatient and hasty. Ambitious. Influential in organizations. Fun to be with. Loves to socialize. Loves praises. Loves attention. Loves to be loved. Honest and trustworthy. Not pretending. Short tempered. Changing personality. Not egotistic. Take high pride in oneself. Hates restrictions. Loves to joke. Good sense of humor. Logical.

The Friendship Goes On

Kuya M’s mother was working abroad at that time. The fact that he and his younger brother were given the autonomy to manage their house made it easier for me to penetrate their privacy. The same went with my friends who found refuge in that house at the most lowly times in their lives. Or we were just too young then to be governed by our whimsical impulse.

We had a friendship outside of consanguinity but our aspirations and desperations made us more than like blood-related individuals. We were under the tutelage of no less than our close friends whom we had looked up to as our own and vice versa. There were seven of us, two females and five males who kept our selves busy with budgeting, doing the household chores, maintaining our sanity through animated talks of our childhood memories, the good old days, of pop and rock music, of basketball and volleyball, and of our hopeful dreams if ever there were. Kuya M’s place witnessed the release of our quelled and smoldered anguish, desperation, and frustrations in life. That’s where we found temporary oblivion to our problems with the almost nightly fellowship with cheaply sold liquors.

Kuya M’s dad on the other hand would pay us a monthly visit with some sufficient supply of dried fish, fruits, vegetables and other stuff in spite of having to tend his other family in another city. I knew how Kuya M hated him but he was thankful they were not neglected.

Kuya M has a heart of gold. It would have been easy for him to tell us to go back to our respective homes, reunite with our families, and dine with them so tightening up his budget wouldn’t be a thing to worry but he didn’t. He and his younger brother would often fall short of their provisions because of the additional mouths to feed. But he fairly understood that we needed time to forget and recover and he was so generous enough to include us in his and his younger brother’s budget. In response to his loyal kindness and generosity, I and the others would do all the household chores, help him with his massive homework and school requirements in his third year as a Psychology Major, and sometimes do impossible things just to pinch in with our meals.

After sometime, we felt we were like real brothers and sisters living under the same roof separated by our biological parents but united by the golden friendship we still treasure until now.

Foraging For Food Before The Duck Hunt

The days faded and I had not gone home. The weeks flourished so swiftly and it witnessed the growing desperation that had been dwelling on my execrable self. I was such a loser and I let it. There were times I would go to sleep with other friends who had eloped from their homes with the disturbing thoughts of my father. He was still a habitual drunkard then and it scared me to death thinking that anytime he might just storm in Kuya M’s ( a friend and the owner of the house where I found temporary shelter and consolation) house and forcibly drag me to get back home. Nothing of that sort happened though and I took it to signify that my parents must have understood my rebellious behavior.

I was deeply hurt and the longer I stayed at Kuya M’s, the more brooding the future got envisioned in me. I wasn’t hopeless but I acted I was. My frailty gave in to the thrills my youth could offer. I started sucking in on cigarettes more than I had used to and got more exposed to the different tastes of inebriants.

In some occasions, I’d get surprised to see some of my classmates paying me a visit or two. I’d hear them asking where I was in the village and my neighbors who knew me would direct them at Kuya M’s. They’d always convince me to go back to school and that there was enough time I could still catch up by taking special exams. They were also witness of my jeremiads but they didn’t get the reciprocation they’d wanted from me. I’d tell them how the recent event in my life had ripped off the zeal and passion I once had wrought and feared I’d never step back in college again.

The life at I had at Kuya M's was not a bed of roses. Living without their parents somehow taught us to depend on each other and find means for survival. It was a give and take relationship for a certain period of time. There were days we had to support ourselves foraging for food around the village. There were open neighbors’ yards with sweet potato tops and openly wide lattice of chayote. We’d furtively scour promising targets for our next meal and sheepishly deal with the hostile looks of some neighbors. A lot of them though were generous and understanding enough to let go of our notoriety. Mostly, we’d fare on some chayote tops mixed with a small can of sardines for days. We intermittently fared on these edible greens and though jobless as we were, we miraculously survived for several weeks.

I was on the verge of giving up realizing that my pride might have worsened my situation. I thought I was ready to go back home.

Before the Duck Hunt

For several days, I had to arduously hit the books almost memorizing each page, word per word. I had to shut down the door from the insouciant dealings with my friends. I was sleepless, expectant, and anxious a few days before the Mid-term Exams.

My preliminary marks impassioned me to better my studies. It was an enticing headstart of the making of my future. How propitious it was to look forward to a time when my parents could worry no more of their financial responsibility for my education. I wanted to be a part of the Dean's List, eager to devoid my parents of miraculously providing for my tuition fee. I just wanted to help them and help myself.

Then the day came when my dad told me something that would ruin all my plans. That he had no money. That he was sorry and all he could do was to push me to talk to the university's treasurer at the registrar's office, to make a promisory note, just take the exams anyway and pay them by the time my dad's ready.

But my intense emotions and outright frustration didn't give my dad the chance to be heard. I remember leaving him in the room and just got out of the house to vent out my rage. After dinner, I returned home, quiet. My face was a picture of failure and so was my dad who couldn't talk anymore. No words came out of his mouth until everybody at home except me had to go to sleep. I knew how sorry my dad was, and I too felt sorry for my compulsion contrived me to abscond. Before the neighbors' roosters made their competitive racket, I saw myself with an old bag and my clothes in it.

I ended up at a friend's house just around the village. That's where I found the shoulders of a comforting outlet, talked with my friends, heard and felt their commiseration. How I wanted to forget the recent event that I started indulging in drinking, severe smoking, and willfully disregarded giving my dad and myself a second chance. I rebelled and found temporary refuge in a place so familiar with my parents and my siblings.

I felt better as the days progressed. My friends place served as my convalescence. Not a day went on though seeing my brother through the shutters, knocking at the door, calling out my name. He would talk to some of my friends and tell them I was being asked by my parents to go back home and that my parents were worried about me. My brother had to go home frustrated since my friends were so protective and one word was enough for them to lie about my whereabouts.

My heart is so weak and sometimes hiding my emotions is hard to deal with. "I will soon recover, I will soon go back home." I told myself while looking at my brother walk away.