Delta Altitude Effect

November 18, 2012

Vehicles are now piling up in this part of SCTEX in Tarlac. No, I’m not driving – inside the bus, yes, on my way back to Manila with my friends. Technology really has a way of enabling us to do what used to be unimaginable not so long ago. As of writing, the orange sky is still silently crawling its way to vanishing, and in just a little while the sky will be a dark cloth that will blanket the entire visible universe. The kid passengers started singing and chanting lively as if the uncontained spirit of excitement to be home had exploded from their core, started spreading through their veins, and needed to escape. While the more aged ones, to whom the work and stress of the long-travel undertaking must have really took a toll on, are quiet and resting, at least physically, I believe.

To my right is an orange-painted sky with dark blue clouds; to my left is still a light blue sky and dirty white cottony clouds, struggling to fight the daunting darkness, or may be just awaiting the latter’s arrival, just like how every day is. But the past two days have not like been how an “every day” has been for me. I and my friends went to Baguio – the second time I have been to the cold city up north.  Since 11pm of Friday night, we’ve been through a lot of adventures: fun, exciting, unexpected, exhilarating, frustrating, frightening, disappointing, surprising, calm, amazing, candid, tranquil, genuine, unbelievable and certainly, unforgettable.  

I really believe that an hour of honesty makes a better friendship than a decade of hi’s and hello’s. Though I’ve known them for quite a long time, I never thought I would learn from these people much more than I had until these barely two days of freedom. These wonderful guys –Tanjo, Jed, Benson, Jesse, Jessa, Betsy, Bambie and Ces – they made me realize and learn things only I could have through an experience with them. Some things I appreciated the value of more than before. And I am happy I went on this trip with them. I am sure they are too.

I guess today would not end like how a typical day would. But here’s to hoping I’ll get to write one day, that this kind of day is how my “every day” already is.

It’s already dark, and I know I am closer to home. We are.

Gerald

The Perks of Being a Lighthouse

My Dearest Shoe Box,

It's been a while since I last sat down on a corner and face the screen with eyes frozen on your site in that universe you are in. Please do not presume I am lying. I know there have been a thousand times I sat down on a corner, and there have been a number of times I checked this blog. But there was never a recent chance for me to do both, either intentionally or accidentally. Or perhaps, I never had the power, since the last post, to make myself write. At least here. For that, I am sorry.

Well, almost 8 months have passed since my last post (which was actually a vague expression of the state I was in then), and there have been a couple of new things and happenings. I'll share a few:

1. I was assigned in North Mindanao from January to July of this year. It was really a marvelous experience. Made me appreciate the beauty of this country more - through the places, the food and especially the people. Most importantly, I get to add another view about life.

You can only appreciate how vast the world is, once you start believing it's not as big as you think it is.

2. I had a "break." 

3. Made my own music! through some strumming and some friends' talents.

I was driving so fast I did not realize that the scenic view I was passing by was passing me by. So I stopped, savored it, and promised that my destination would be as breathtaking.

4. There's a new member of the family.

5. Sadly, some friends departed..

Things will inevitably change. That's what good memories are for.

6. I met an angel! :) She has these white, beautiful and regal wings. You wouldn't believe it.

I asked an angel if she can live with me in hell. She said 'Yes.' And for a moment, I knew what heaven feels like.

7. And I am off to a new start! Wish me luck!

Life is a short game. But while it's on, it gives us all the chances to win, to lose, and most importantly, to start again.

Just keeping you posted. I thank the Lord for yet another day I was given to breathe, to witness the miracles of life, to stand the coldness of the night, and to appreciate the ones that make the world a great place to live in.

Love always,

GAP

Ironic

And after all you did to protect the thing that matters most to you, it is taken away.


While those things you are willing to let go of, they keep holding on to you.


Isn't it ironic?

Tonight, I'll see you in my dreams

It's new year, and I've composed a new song entitled Tonight, I'll see you in my dreams. This song goes out to all those who look forward to sleeping and dreaming, for it is only in their dreams that they are able to be with the people they cannot be with in reality. ;)

I've also written the lyrics below. Hope you like the song. :)

Tonight I’ll see you in my dreams 

Tonight, I’ll see you in my dreams

Running freely in the fields

like children chasing fireflies

and no chasing hours

Trailing on the grassland

In a maze of swaying swords

And watch them as they fondle

those porcelain legs of yours

Oohh...

Where you and I smile

and it was just a smile

without a single doubt or lie

but we would never know why

the truth’s no you, no fields, no hymns

but still, I’ll see you in my dreams

Tonight I’ll see you in my dreams

where we lay carefree at the cliff

while I speak to you a phrase,

and the white clouds form your face

Where the wind sings us a lullaby

to help me get to where you are

I’d touch your face and bravely try

to say goodbye--

Goodbye----

and it was just goodbye

without a single cry of fear

though I would want you to be here

the truth’s no you, no fields, no hymns

but still, I’ll see you in my dreams

Yes, tonight, I’ll see you in my dreams

For when I feel the morning’s breeze

I consent my hands and heart to freeze,

But I can’t save the pillow from the tears

See you tonight, I’ll see you in my dreams

For when I feel the morning’s breeze

I consent my hands and heart to freeze,

But I can’t save the pillow from the tears

See you in my dreams

-end-

Five Guitar Strings

Right, they must be six. But now, how can I play, when one string seems to be missing?

It's been almost three years ago since I got hold of my first guitar and had my first strum on it. I was then so clueless - clueless on how to play it, clueless on how to take care of it, clueless on what it would be to me. But it was an uncertainty I ventured myself into, because it promises music. And music is the solace in times of solitude. It guarantees no loneliness, or at least a company in times of melancholy.

However, it was a venture I did not fully succeed in. Not that I did not learn how to play, I actually did, though not confident enough to play in front of a big --and a scrutinizing-- crowd. Nevertheless, it remained true to the promise I saw in it. That day I bought my wooden, acoustic Fernando guitar was the day I had found me a new best friend.

I remember, on its early days, getting home from school at lunch time (because I only have one class for the day), and I would grab my guitar immediately, watch some episodes of Death Note and play on it again. I've even brought it to my tutees' house to give them free guitar lessons, (although I am not an expert nor a professional guitarist) which eventually, sometimes, becomes the highlight of the session. A number of times my guitar has experienced the difficulty of commuting to be able to go with me to school; to spend breaks singing with friends and looking forward to the end of the day when we would go from CBA to NIGS to offer some music to a friend.

It's been almost five months since we've had one serious play. The many changes I have to adjust to have not been so kind to spare me time to give it a good strum. In fact, I have vetoed myself a little constraint in playing it, for the primary reason that at this point, there are far more huge and crucial lessons I have to study, and more important skills I have to practice. And it pains me. I no longer am the student who runs home, throws his bag on the floor, grabs his guitar and plays it at the sofa the entire afternoon. I no longer am the tutor who extends his time at some Korean boys' unit trying to introduce  to them the wonders of the six strings. And there isn't anymore a friend in the sciences I and my guitar would play to.

This morning, I tried to play with my guitar. I strummed ordinarily, but it sounded oddly. For a G, it sounded like only five strings sang, and one of them is mute. It felt like one string is missing, and I don't know how to bring it back. Or when..

At the end of the jungle*

Not so long ago, we entered college with a vague picture of what’s in store for us. Equipped with our high school learning, some beliefs about the University, and our own distinct student number, we all ventured into the jungle that is UP Diliman. Our four, five or even six years in college have seen us trail different paths in getting to where we are now. Sometimes, the road is smooth, the sun shines brightly, and if we are fortunate enough, we would find a basket of bananas at every corner. Other times, the road would be marshy, that we find it hard to run fast, and foggy, that we can hardly see the end of it. In the same jungle, we have seen a lot of new and interesting things—long lines at any imaginable event, fraternity boys running naked around, and blue books we submit with high hopes (which eventually are blighted the moment they were returned)—and have met a lot of species we have never encountered before—professors who are extremely kind to girls, anime characters coming to life for Math, friendly guards, and a genus of students sharing the same organization. College life was definitely one great adventure, and UP was a jungle of transformation, however we tried to resist. Now that we have reached this jungle’s exit, before asking what lies ahead, we contemplate on one big question: What’s the best thing that we have earned and deserved from college?

The degree—whether BS BA or BS BAA, we all worked hard for it. The sleepless nights we spent reviewing for an accounting exam, preparing for a marketing presentation, completing our papers for the tons of cases assigned to us, and exhausting all resources for that one feasibility/industry study all paid off. To be called a UP CBA Graduate is certainly among the greatest achievements we have earned and deserved from college. We have survived and made it to the finish line!

The honors and the recognitions—it is not every day that we receive recognitions for the fruits of our labor. Honors are additional blessings for the exceptional milestone students have surpassed. To be regarded as among the top students in the college, or in the university, is an honor that has been there to drive us to continue performing well. And these are but a proof that we have gone the extra mile.

We have made our college life meaningful through the momentous achievements and rewards we garnered. But the marvel of our college life as business students will continue to be treasured not only through the awards we can keep via certificates, envelopes and letters, but also through those we can share our lives with, even after graduation day.

The friends—if there would be one achievement from college life that we definitely have earned and deserved, it would be our friends. Having true friends means that we have spent the last four, five or six years unselfishly. For every hardship that our friends encounter, we have served as instruments to help them emerge triumphant; For every adversity that our friends go through, we have given them the inspiration to see the brighter side; For every short moment we ask them “Kumusta?,” we have erased in them the feeling of loneliness; For every uncertainty we faced, we have never left them. For having been able to do all these, from the friends in our previous colleges, to the friends who welcomed us in BA, we have undeniably earned and deserved them, in the same way that they have earned and deserved having us as their friends. Any other achievements, time can make trivial or obsolete; but our friends, they are timeless awards we can always be proud of.

For these, fellow graduates, let’s congratulate ourselves.

*an article for the UP CBA Batch 2011 Yearbook

Too Many Talking Whales

My head is full of talking whales. And all of them are furious to get out.

It has always been like that: One whale gives birth to another, then it gives birth to another one. Often times, they multiply exponentially. My head is a system abiding by the laws of science, e.g. no abiogenesis. That's why, it is but logical that the heavier ones are those who find it difficult to escape. But all of them grew fatter and fatter every passing second they're imprisoned. Hence, the prevalent fury inside.

I stumbled upon an abandoned college newspaper in our house one afternoon. I knew it was my younger sister's school paper: the white, glossy pages, very distinct from that of The Collegian; plus there's a description below the title that says so. What I didn't know was that she keeps a third-of-a-page column for her editorials. As I was reading her random thoughts, I could not believe I was reading some things I have once heard whispered to my ear, and I could imagine how she would be saying some of the phrases written. But what struck me the most was the realization that what I was reading was just among the many writings she wrote (and would be writing) that could converse with a thousand different minds-both the critical and the gullible. That moment, aside from being a proud brother, I've found myself being a living prison, depriving the talking whales of their freedom.

Life is simple but not easy. It's simple to free the whales, but it's never easy. You don't know if they would bear wonderful mammals, or hideous monsters. Sometimes, you even doubt if they are enraged because they want to be freed, or because they want to die. Risky, indeed. But it's a chance I have to take to make sense. To count. To matter. 

I worry for them, for they might be misunderstood and judged. But I owe the talking whales a lot, that freeing them through my writings is the humblest form of repayment I could do.