THE COUNSELOR OF THE ELVES:

To be or not to be (a CPA)

2011-10-22T00:00:00.000-07:00

Why am I not yet a Certified Public Accountant?

Professional review classes for CPA Board Exams on May 2011 are on-going. As of this writing, I have neither enrolled in any of these review centers or scan any of my notes and books in accounting to refresh my mind. I am just too lazy, or to put it differently, too tired to do it all over again.

This feels like a dilemma. It's been 4 years since I graduated with a degree in Accountancy and I still haven't taken the CPA Board Exam. I'm keeping one group picture in my wallet of my closest friends and classmates in college and I curiously noticed that almost everyone in that picture are already CPAs. It's sad that I reached my age and I still don't have a title for myself. It's even more frustrating since the goal to become a CPA is in the number 1 spot of my 100 Goals List.

It is now more than ever that I feel so integrated. I am starting to question whether my decision to finish this course was right. The circumstances tell me it's right. Boasting aside, I graduated "M_gn_ C_m L_ _d_" for this course. But looking back, I understood that I earned it not because I have a niche in business courses or I was good at numbers. It was actually the opposite: I am a word person. Passionate of reading and writing. A literature enthusiast. The laurel of graduating with flying colors was solely attributable to pure dedication and hardwork. The truth was I studied harder than most students. I don't even consider myself smart. I have an average I.Q.

I only took this course because it was the first opportunity that came. During a house visit after my high school graduation, my Japanese benefactors, through a fellow Filipino coordinator who is a CPA herself told me, "Fred, Accountancy na lang ka. Ok man na". Without having a second thought I said, "Sige. Sige." When they left, I asked my mother, "Unsa na nga course ma?" Tsk! Tsk! Talking about poverty. I couldn't voice out my choices. When you're indigent, you are not allowed to choose. When an opportunity presents itself, you must grab it. They wanted me to take up Accountancy. If it was the only way so I could graduate from college and spare my parents from the burden of paying for my education, so be it.

I am not saying I despise my course and I regret getting my degree. You see, not all people are brave enough to pursue a degree in Accountancy. It's one of the toughest course out there. Also, I did not become idle after getting it. I actually got employed immediately (which was timely since it was the time my father passed away and I badly needed one to support the family) and I put to use everything that I had studied in college. I joined the workforce and became productive needless to say.

I am fully aware of the future that I may face when I become a CPA. I sure will be happy and grateful for the 3 letters that will be added to the end of my name but I'm pretty sure too that I will no longer be at ease knowing that I am stepping out of my comfort zone. The thought of trading literature books with 'financial statements' bothers a little. It makes me sigh.

Still, a part of me is saying I still need to become one. I mean, what's the point of going through a hard time in college, of getting an Accountancy degree if I won't become one? It would be useless. A teacher of mine was right. True graduation comes after you pass the grisly board exams and get your license. I didn't feel I have completed my education after I received my baccalaureate degree.

And so I am urging myself to focus on this insurmountable task. However, it doesn't feel right everytime I attempt to conquer it. I tried to take one semester of review classes while working and it proved unfruitful. I thought I could manage my time but I couldn't. You can't serve two masters at the same time. One has to go. Now, I am beginning to entertain the thought that I am not destined to be a CPA given the circumstances that I face. There's no way I can attend review classes without having to work. And there's no way I can pass the board while juggling a review course with work. I've been a breadwinner (until I resigned just recently to rest from it all) and it seems it'll continue to be that way (since rest days are over and I am compelled by circumstances to get myself a job instantaneously).

So why am I not yet a CPA? I don't know exactly. But given the state of things, I keep on lingering on these thoughts: One, maybe I am not really meant to become one. It isn't written in the stars or etch in the lines of my palms. Or two, after everything I've been through - all the hardships and struggles, it's part of his 'big plan' for my life. I waited this long so that when the time comes that I will take the board, I will no longer just pass it, but I will blissfully top it.Ok, no. 2 is way ot of bound. But we can never tell!

From A.M. to B.U.M

2011-10-13T20:22:00.000-07:00

I should be congratulated. It's been a month now since I resigned from my job. It took me four years before I woke to my real senses and found the guts to finally quit. Now, I joined hundreds, no I mean thousands of unemployed young men and women of this country. I am a certified bum. It's not something to be proud of. But it's not something to be sad for either. In fact, it's now that I feel happy and peaceful inside more than ever.

Most people would think I have gone insane for leaving a stable job. I have to disagree. Dropping out from it all has been one of the most rational decisions I ever made in my entire life.

A month ago, I was working as an accounting manager for an international bottling company. Simply speaking, I was nothing but a glorified corporate slave.

For 4 years, I worked my ass off, ascending from one position level to another. But to put it blatantly, I was doing some calculator-pushing and mouse-clicking to advance some people's interests.

I got my first job a year after my graduation. I was filled with an ardent desire my being a youthful neophyte in the corporate world. It was a piece of cake getting hired. Thanks to my ever-dependable, impressive, honest to goodness CV. I easily jumped from one position to the next.

I started out in the marketing department as a trade marketing assistant. Then, I was transferred to Finance to become a financial analyst. After 2 Annual Operating Plans (AOP), countless Marginal Contribution computations, and innumerable variance analyses, they installed me as an accounting manager.

Since the beginning, I've already felt something was wrong. The changes and 'shifts-and-shuffles' of job positions temporarily helped since I wanted to find where I really fit. But one day I woke up with a nagging feeling that things weren't really working out well. Then I realized that the career path I was following wasn't really the one I intended to take. I just wasn't happy inside the workplace. I knew I had to move on and out into the real world.

I quit my job without knowing where I was heading for and started contemplating on things I really wanted to do.

So here I am now feeling heavenly blissful. I never have so much time for myself. I have never had so much freedom. It's fun to bond with my nephew watching Cartoon Network TV shows from morning to lunch then slumber during lazy afternoons. All these I'm doing while the rest of my former colleagues are trapped inside some obscure cubicle sweating for their monthly paychecks.

I have little, if no concerns for money right now. Sure I would miss out my '15/30 blessings' but I am contented with what little I have. Of course there are expenses to care about like the monthly amortization of the house and the monthly bills but I'm glad I get through them. Luck is still on my side. Despite my being idle, help has come in handy. I owe my OFW sister whose income helps a lot to defray our daily expenses.

With that, time, the precious thing that I want, is all mine. Time to do things I really like such as hiking, learning to cook, drawing and painting, meditating, playing with my nephews and nieces, having coffee with my mother and siblings discussing ad laughing about anything and everything under the sun.

I found reasons to enjoy my new life. My anxiety and stress are becoming less frequent. Proof of this is my face not experiencing further acne breakout and my hair not having visible white hair strands. I am now more relaxed. I can now laugh heartily. Best of all, there are no pressures - no early morning wake up calls, no deadlines to beat, no backbiting officemates to face up and grouchy and egoistic boss to deal with.

I have also become more focused about the future - my own. I am slowly making plans so that when this rest days are over, I can try out a post in the government, prepare properly for a board examination, and maybe proceed a master's degree or take a new course.

Honestly, I have no regrets of quitting my job and being momentarily bummed. You see, it turned out beneficial to me. It has made me realize that having a peaceful mind and a happy heart is important than edging your way up the corporate ladder.

sponsor child

2011-03-12T18:06:00.000-08:00

If you had seen the animated series JUDY ABBOT in ABS-CBN years ago, you wouldn’t find a hard time understanding the kind of life that I’ve been through as a student. Substantially, its storyline tersely put the autobiography of my young life in perspective. Uh no, I am not an orphan and I did not grow up in an orphanage like her. However, I did grow up poor (and I mean really poor) and had my own ‘DADDY LONGLEGS’ – a heaven-sent who helped me get through my education.

At around 5 or 6 years old, my family moved here in Davao City. Poverty-stricken, we resided in a slum area somewhere in Father Selga Street (But I actually like it there. There were a lot of children, a lot of playmates). At that time, a Non-government Organization (NGO) called Christian Children's Fund (CCF) was at the height of looking for impoverished children, the poorest of the poor, across the country who needed immediate aid. Needless to say, I was enlisted. The same way the hundreds of kids who were feeble and needy just like me, some of them my playmates the others were familiar faces on nearby streets and laborers in the public market (by the way, at the age of 7 I was already out on the street working either as a watch-your-car boy, a vendor or a dishwasher in the public market!)

Christian Children's Fund (CCF) is a non-sectarian, international child protection and development organization dedicated to serving the needs of children worldwide working in more than 30 countries, assisting more than 13 million children and families regardless of race, creed or gender.

CCF creates programs in a variety of different areas that provide practical assistance to impoverished communities and plant the seeds of self-sufficiency. Areas to include, Early Childhood Development, Education, Health and Sanitation, Nutrition, Family-Income Generation and Emergency and Disaster Relief.

I could still remember how it felt when I was told that a couple from the UNITED STATES chose me to be their sponsored child. They were Mr. & Mrs. Donald M. Krueger. I felt ecstatic. Being young and full of dreams and aware of how piteous we were, a blaze of hope sparked in the deepest part of my heart. Alas, I can now go to school without having to burden my parents about the expenses. All they asked in return was for me to undergo in their programs mainly on child-focused development. That would mean I have to do well in school, participate in their trainings aiming at my holistic development and write to my sponsors, my benevolent benefactors who made all these possible.

THE RELIEF ASSOCIATION OF SOUTHEAST ASIA (RASEA)

It was after I finished my elementary that I decided to leave my CCF Family to give way for the Relief Association of Southeast Asia. It is a non-stock, non-sectarian scholarship grant institution founded by Japanese philanthropist Mr. Keishiro Saeki (who is also its president) for indigent Filipino youth particularly here in Davao City. Entering into high school was another challenge for me so I had to get the scholarship from RASEA to surmount my growing educational needs.

My sponsors were Mr. Shigeo Betsujima, Ms. Yuri Maruyama, & Mr. Shinji Aoyama. Every month, I had to write to them about school, family and myself. I wrote anything and evertything. I remember writing about my victories in essay writing contests and quizbowls. There were times I wrote about the chores I did at home. I also wrote to them my hopes and dreams. Of course, in every letter I sent them, I always extended my sincerest gratitude for all their support.

It was painstaking getting through it all (you know, all the hardships a student has to face) but it was worth it. I also felt very blessed. I was a sponsored child. My sponsors were always there to back me up. Without them, I couldn't imagine where I am now!

man in the mirror

2010-04-10T21:08:00.000-07:00

Man in the mirror: Good Heavens! Look at yourself? Would it kill you if you flash just one sweet genuine smile?

Me: I can't help it, it's the way I am.

Man in the mirror: Give me a break! I don't care whatever the hell you are going through, just get yourself together and deal with it, or stop dwelling in the past by leaving everything behind and not think about it altogether.

Me: That's very convenient for you to say, if you only knew how I feel.

Man in the mirror: Oh I know all about it alright, I am, after all, YOU!... A conscience deep down inside of YOU! I guess what I am trying to tell you is, a big fat sunny smile doesn't hurt anyone, plus there is no point for you to continue acting this way. Unless you are planning to drive people away with that less-than-okay attitude of yours.

Me: I guess you have a point there. Tell you what, I shall give this a shot and see how it goes. It sucks to be in a constant demoralizing mode anyway.

Man in the mirror: That's the spirit! I can almost feel you becoming better already. Now go out there and show the world what you've got! Don't forget to put on your SMILE!

Me: ALRIGHT MAN!!!

letter of intent

2010-04-04T03:47:00.000-07:00

March 31, 2010

Mr. Ed G. Matas
HR Manager, PCPPI, Davao Plant
Dumoy, Toril, Davao City

Sir:

After a prudent and conscientious assessment, I finally decided to let you know that I intend to apply for the position of the ACCOUNTING MANAGER.

As a financial analyst, what more could spark my interest than learning that you are currently looking for an applicant to fill in the above-mentioned vacancy? Career-wise, it’s apt for me to go after the position. It is my next big step as I advance myself in our corporate ladder.

I am saddened by the fact that the incumbent has to be discharged knowing the profound dedication and exemplary skills that he has for this job. Thinking about it, I’m skeptical if I would live up to his level and if I would be able to carry out what he has started. He has been consistently good and most-trusted by his fellows as far as the scope of this job is concerned. What I have is an ardent desire and willingness to be an Accounting Manager. Should I be questioned about maturity on the tasks that the position entails, I can’t give you a confident positive answer. I can only guarantee my willingness and enthusiasm to learn, learn, and learn. Should I be questioned about my dedication, I will give no answer. Dedication is not a matter of utterance; it is a matter of action. I will be dedicated as long as the job calls for it.

If I were to be honest, reaching a decision as to apply or not for this position has been very stressful. I can’t help but feel frightened. What if I am in an argument with an accounting staff? How am I supposed to deal with cross-functional issues? Should I speak my mind to a superior or let my guards down and go along his ways? If I’m not an Accounting Manager, I will never know.

Please do consider my application.

Very respectfully yours,
(signed)
Alfredo J. Ampac
Financial Analyst

go with the flow

2009-06-30T19:30:00.000-07:00

I am what they call a “corporate slave”. It’s a term that refers to a person who practically lives in front of his computer and drowns himself in work, sometimes even on weekends.

At first, it was amusing. Having been a neophyte in the corporate world, I felt a sense of self-worth. Days went on, and it became somewhat uncomfortable and stressful having to deal with the everyday challenges of the job. And one day I woke up and felt I got it all screwed up and I felt downright miserable. These have made me think about my whole life again.

It’s not that I hate how my life has turned out thus far – in fact I feel exactly the opposite. But I imagine that if the world were different, I might have ended up as a wandering writer, instead of a financial analyst. I once imagined a life of traveling around the world with my favorite backpack and a pen and paper, living for the moment, carefree and wild, and write essays and novels for my audiences – the readers whenever I feel to. Today, I work in a business wherein making presentations until late at night and presenting them the next day is a normal part of the job. The difference is I have a computer instead of a pen and paper, and the audiences I have are serious-minded people, who don’t really care about poetry and creative writing, but bottom-line figures and savings.

Indeed, we live in a world where we don’t always end up doing the things we think we were meant to do in life. Like I said, I always thought I would be a writer. Heck, I might even have been a film director or an animator or a worker for UN. Ten years ago, I would never have pictured me doing analyses and problem solving, but ironically that’s pretty much all that I do these days.

In a generation wherein mottos such as “Follow your heart” or “Live your dream” are celebrated, the path I am tracking, and the countless other young people like me, leads us in the opposite direction of our dreams. We go to school, discover our innermost talents and passions, and yet many of us graduate to find ourselves leading very predictable, ordinary lives. For some it’s an 8-to-5 office job in a bank; for others it’s the life of a nurse or a contract worker abroad. We seldom end up the artists or adventurers we dreamed of ourselves to be as children.

I sometimes wonder what my friends say about me, now that we’ve all grown up and taken separate paths in life. “Naunsa na kaya to si Alfred?” they might ask. Some are probably saying that I dumped that budding writer in me to become a boring corporate slave.

Yeah, that’s probably what they think, but I don’t mind. The truth is, this life and the choices I’ve made thus far have served me well. I admit it isn’t exactly the most exciting, out-of-the-box lifestyle. But through my hardwork and sacrifices, I manage to earn enough to take care of myself and help support my family. I was able to buy the television set that my mom has always wanted. Right now, I an the one paying for my sister’s tuition. I also pay the monthly bills. And oh, I am able to lend my siblings money for the needs of my nephew and niece. It’s true that I never got to publish my books and get praises for it, but I am happy striving for simple, yet meaningful dreams in this life. And all things considered, I have no regrets.

Someone once said that our lives are characterized by a certain “throwness,” that we are beings thrown into this world, into a here and now, into a time and place that define the kind of lives that we lead. I believe we are thrown into a time in history and into a part of the world wherein social and economic conditions simply call us to become a bank employee instead of poets, or nurses instead of ballerinas. It’s just the way things are, and I believe we must neither curse nor reject these circumstances, but rather embrace them as part of our lives. In the end, it is not the path that you walk that matters, but how you walk on it.

If there’s something I would like to say to those people like myself, who tread the road most traveled, who go with the flow, who fight for their existence day after day and who fight to build a better future for themselves and for their love ones, it would be this: Walk on. Work hard, but never let go of your dreams. Strive to earn the freedom to pursue them one day.

silence

2009-01-16T04:08:00.000-08:00

Listen. There comes a point in your life when all you can do is listen. You can't seem to find the right words to say, because there are no right words to say at that particular moment. I know that because of our great desire to comfort some people we deeply care about, we feel like telling them things we think could ease their pain. But sometimes, all we can and need to do is hear them out and keep silent.

I realized this when Sir Ian, my boss unexpectedly opened up to me about his personal problems one night and I did not know what to do. It was almost 11:00 pm and I was outside the gates of Pepsi Plant waiting for a cub to take me home. I was extremely exhausted making the 'Profit & Loss Variance Analysis Report', my deadline that day. As I was waiting, a security personnel tapped my shoulder and pointed at the green car. The car window was open and I saw my boss waving his hands. I flashed a big smile knowing that he was offering to give me a ride.

When I was inside the car that was when he started sharing his personal problems. Well, I would not have been hit that hard if his story was particularly different and isolated. Unfortunately, I share with him the same sentiments. It was about this terrible and unspeakable thing called 'loneliness'. I won't try to elaborate here what his problems were (as that would be irreverence to his rights to privacy). At that time, I felt really bad. I felt useless and helpless. I tried very hard to think of some words to tell him, some courses of action to suggest to him just to make him feel better. But all my effort proved unavailing. When a person is faced with a giant heartbreak, even if you tell him the things he wants and need to hear, in the end the biting reality will hit him.

So I decided to keep silent and listen to him. I was so shy saying the words, "OK LANG 'YON, SIR!" knowing that I face the same nightmare and it is never ok. At that time, all I knew was that he needed to pour his heart out and let all his suppressed emotions come out. Keeping silent was a bit awkward, but I thought it was better than pretending I knew better. And I knew that he knew it too.

Silence is not bad when the occasion calls for it. We do not need to say something all the time in order to help and show someone that we care. It is not every day that there is something we need to say and share. And it is not all the time that we have to find the right words to sound sympathetic or apologetic. Timing often makes a big difference.

We need not pretend to be all-knowing by telling our loved ones all the things they need to hear at a certain time. We need not pretend that we totally understand what they are going through. We need not assure them that everything is going to be fine. We just have to stay with them, period.

The power of listening is most often not appreciated, but it has been proven to be effective. Silence does not always mean you are apathetic. Silence also means you choose not to say anything because you do not want to complicate things and make the situation worse. Silence is another way of saying, "Tell me everything and I won't judge you. I'm here for you. And I'm here to stay." That assurance is more important than anything. And that is often more than enough.

finding me

2009-01-10T21:09:00.000-08:00

Few days ago,I was asked by Karen Calapan, a schoolmate in high school if I could treat her and Maryfe Pasaquian, a fellow schoolmate to a movie. I happened to run into her on my way out of the NCCC Mall Cinema. She was among a throng of moviegoers queuing to get a ticket for the movie 'Tanging Ina'. Me rushing to get out with a million things circling in my mind, she caught me off-guard. It was not the proper place and time to ask something like that. And of all people, she, no not just she, actually her circle of friends from the agoho class, are the ones I wish I would not bump into in the next few months or even years . Don't get me wrong with this one (to think I bumped into Brian, an agoho student, in Sta. Ana Ave. a couple of days ago and exchanged a warm casual conversation with him. Now he might think this is so rude of me.)You see, they are probably the warmest and the friendliest people one would meet in his lifetime. I love their circle actually. I love how they care for each other. I love the bond they have made in each others' lives that it seems a part of themselves is in the possession of each other. Karen, for instance, couldn't carry a conversation without having to mention Terang (Maryfe's pet name) or Brian... or Fern... You could always tell that these people have gone through a lot of things together. And that's the reason why I should start avoiding them. I don't belong to their circle. I was never part of them.

Anyways, having made a promise to Karen, I was forced to face them again today. I got problems of my own. I have this tremendous struggle going on inside of me. But this grisly day, I made sure the two of them would not see any mark of loneliness, of intolerable sadness on my face. I'm pretty much good at pretending, no not pretending but concealing the truth.

I got a text that they were already outside the mall beside KFC waiting. I hurried to go to their location. When I got there, I learned Karen was with someone beside Maryfe. It was kind of awkward when she introduced me to him who I found out was his boyfriend, I mean ex-boyfriend. More awkwardly, the two of them were supposedly in the mood for their heart-breaking moments of 'parting time'. Having learned it was the case, me and Maryfe left her with his guy and proceeded to Nang Inasal to take dinner. (I was stunned when I found out they haven't eaten yet when I arrived. I was kind of worried actually since I only got a P500 bill on my wallet, thinking this should be more than enough for our tickets and snack inside the moviehouse.)

After 20 minutes or so of waiting, Karen joined us in our table in Mang Inasal. Right then and there, before we could catch our breath she made known what that 'incident' outside was. I supposed it was a 'closure' of their love affair. Karen was half-hearted when she told us. Then, suddenly she changed plans. She didn't want to watch a movie anymore. Now she wanted to go to people's park and nurture the feelings that consumed her. I could tell Maryfe was a little bit disappointed. But I couldn't favor her. I was also thinking whether we have enough money to fully enjoy the movie treat. So canceling the movies somehow cleared my clouded thoughts regarding that matter. We decided to cancel our original plan and drop by the people's park like what Karen wanted. However, after a while, as we were eating, it rained very hard. I was sure the three of us had thought that our people's park plan was in vain already. Nonetheless nobody couldn't care less. We thought listening to Karen's sentiments on her lovelife would be enough to carry on the night.

And off she told her love story (and she stressed this should be written). She was a cashier in Lane 12 of NCCC Supermarket and he was a bagger in Lane 1. When the cashier in Lane 1 happened to take a leave (or was it reassigned? or fired? i don't remember now...) she assumed the post that was vacated. And they finally met. It was not love at first sight. In fact, they were the best of enemies. The thought of them getting close was way way far beyond her comprehension. They tease each other almost everyday. And they kind of hate each other. But as the days went by, things had change. With some friends and colleagues picking on them, although not entertained, it was still unignorable. And before she knew it, she was already falling for him (Damn! Why should I be the one writing this. Too cheezy, eh?) I didn't know if I would take this girl seriously since she was apathetic narrating it. I mean, I wished to be more sympathetic but I just couldn't. Both Maryfe and I couldn't contain our laughter in ourselves. Karen was hilarious, as always. She had this unique funny gestures and her punchlines were priceless! Actually, my stomach ached from too much laughter. But it felt good to laugh. I felt my nerves blowing and bouncing hard as if its pushing every ounce of stress in my brain out. It had been a long time since the last time I laughed that hard. I now couldn't remember how she ended her story. As a matter of fact, I couldn't remember the part where they fell out of love and decided to part ways. She was all to blame, really. Her talk was endless. We would start one topic, didn't know where it headed to, and then jumped into another completely brand new one. . We talked about a lot of things - from her job application experiences to Jean's (another agoho pal) foreigner friend, to her huge liking of book author and evangelist Bo Sanchez, to Brian's unimaginable sexual escapade and a lot more. Ang gulo pero masaya!!!

After we ate, Maryfe convinced us to drop by Marisol's (another agoho pal) house. She told me she had just given birth to a very beautiful boy. I was like, "Wait, was she even pregnant?" The last time I saw her was during the wake of her late son Zeke (peace be with him in heaven).

We rode a tricycle to their house. We reached there at 10:20 pm. I saw his husband and another guy (who I concluded his brother because of their resemblance) but I didn't mind asking him since I hadn't gotten enough nerves to ask. Again, it was awkward. I was never good at meeting strangers. I never look straight to their eyes. I finally got the chance to see the baby. I learned they had him named Elijah. It's a beautiful name. If I remember, it's a Jewish name that means "the Lord is my God". He was so adorable. And very small... a frailty precious little life. Karen requested to carry him and I was so scared looking at her mom passing on the baby to her[Karen] arms. I'm afraid the baby would fall or something like that. When Karen asked me if I could hold the baby I immediately declined. I might not hold the baby the right way and he might get hurt. It was enough for me seeing that delicate innocent angel in his calm, deep sleep.
After a couple of minutes, we bid goodbye.

If there was one thing I could be thankful for about this meeting with them, it was the fact that I was able to forget my personal issues. At least, though unexpected, my attention was temporary diverted. It feels good experiencing the goodness of life sometimes. It kind of give you a reason to hold on and don't give up and makes you realize some of the things worth living for. However brief, it rejuvenates your spirit, giving you enough strength to face another day.

But I want a lasting peace and happiness (hmm, I was about to forget the title of this post.) These agoho people made me realize that I should start finding the ones who truly cares for me. I exactly don't know where and when I will find them. Moreso, I am scared if I will ever find them considering the fact that I am not getting any younger. I wanted to find people whom I can connect with in the same level, in parallel wavelength. I want to be in a circle where I can be myself and I can finally say, "Hey, this is where I belong!"

We will meet again this coming weekend, as I promised for the movie. But it will be the last time I will see them. I think I will be starting my long journey of finding my place in this cruel world.

flashback

2008-07-27T23:25:00.000-07:00

You see me alone in the halls, at lunch, in class. I don’t laugh, giggle, flirt, talk, whisper. “The loner kid” you call me. But, do you bother to ask why?

“Hey, kid, why don’t you have any friends?”

If just one of you, just one, took the time to ask, I’d speak more words than you’d ever heard. Maybe I don’t talk because it’s too hard. Too hard to make friends. Maybe I don’t talk because I'm scared. I’m sick and tired of being rejected, left out.

Sick and tired of seeking approval. Next time it won’t be so hard. I won’t seek for anything because there was nothing I liked.

I’m tired of realizing the ones I poured my hearts out to didn’t care. I try not to get attached so next time I don’t have to cry because there won’t be any pain. Yet, you all go about your lives. Not caring, wondering, bothering.

If just one of you took the time to ask…

Why?

a letter

2008-07-25T09:15:00.000-07:00

“You are my sweetest downfall. I loved you first.” – “Samson,” Regina Spektor

DEAR YOU,

You will always hold the distinction of being one of the most wanted persons in my life. Unexpected though it was, someone like you made someone like me realized the depth and strength I have inside to love and care for someone. Please forgive me for all my deception – for creating the most eloquent alibis and the sweetest lies. I myself was startled, in fact scared at seeing this other side of me.

I have become an army of darkness, or so it seems. I have perfected the art of dishonesty and deceit. Look into my eyes and you could see a demon lurking deep inside my soul. I have always feared loneliness. Ironically, I have been in his company; right close to his laps all my life. Since I was little, my greatest dream was to witness a miracle. Someday, somehow, I would feel how it is to be loved, how it is to have a friend by your side. I want to find love and friendship in this world. I have failed. Nothing is in store for me. Not love. Not friendship. I got nothing but my staunch shadow.

I have been eyeing you since the first time I saw you. I really don't know what's in you but when you are near me, I feel so light inside. Honestly, I’ve been holding a personal grudge against you because you hurt me so badly (without you knowing it). It hurt me seeing you often and not being able to even just shake your hands. It hurt me seeing you walking into the sun, surrounded with unconditional love from family and friends while I here am hiding in darkness alone and empty.

I was so selfish I know. I wronged you. I was such a great prentender. I was dreaming in broad daylight. I could have never been more pathetic.

Through it all, I thank you for being my friend and for understanding me like no one ever has or probably ever will. I want to believe you have forgiven me. I wish you kept your promises. The one I want you to keep between the two of us.

There will always be a part of my heart that belongs to you. It’s been with you for a long time now. You will always be special to me. You are one great soul. I will always rejoice over your personal triumphs and happiness. I hope you find someone who will love you sincerely for who you are and what you are.

Keep smiling, by the way. You have no idea how many people were inspired because of your sunny smile. And please know that I will always be here if you need my help.

See you when I see you.

ME

P.S. Please do not hate me. Nor pity me. I have been through a lot of things but have not been given a chance to speak even a word about it. Thank you for giving me a chance to say what I feel…

my dad's footnote

2008-05-17T08:35:00.000-07:00

Prologue: THE STATE OF OBLIVION

9:15 pm (last night)

I was browsing the internet again to finalize the over-all appearance of my blog. It was just two days ago that I decided to get rid of all the outlets in the cyberspace (multiply account, myspace account, friendster account, etc.) that I own and create one that would serve as my personal journal or diary. Luckily, help came in handy like meeting Fernand Salinas, a good friend (hope he won’t denounce this claim) who happens to be a graphics artist online (the guy heartily helped me make the layout of the banner of this page) so I was off for a fresh, good start. Anyways, as I was going through it, my phone alert me for a message. I hurriedly checked it out and learned that it was from my sister Arlene.

It read: “Doy, tanungin u mama wat time mass tmrw.”

“Huh?,” I reacted. “Why go to mass on a Saturday?,” I reasoned out. Puzzled and unaware about it, I ignored the text message and went on my blog editing.

When I got home, I told my mother about the text message and asked her about it. She turned to me in an instant giving me that strange surprise look, her eye brows meet and belt this out: “It’s your dad’s birthday. We will attend mass at 6 am tomorrow.”

I was stunned. Wow! I couldn’t believe that I had just forgotten my dad’s birthday. I wondered what my father was feeling right then there in heaven having a hard-headed, tough-hearted loner for a son and…oblivious! I was guilty. I knew he’s hurt. Inside me, it felt as if I wronged him.

“It’s damn alright. I’ll attend mass tomorrow…” I said to myself.

7:15 am

I woke up to the noise created by the slamming of the door. I opened my eyes and saw my sister sitting by the bed sipping her cup of coffee. I gazed at the wall clock and the time was 7:45 am. I jump out of the bed while telling my sister, “Suyaa oi. 7:15 na (our clock is advance by 30 minutes)?” She could only give me that oh-its-your-fault look. I sighed, then dropped myself to bed regretting the fact that I missed the mass, the mass offered for my dad.

I was guilty again. I knew he’s hurt…again. Inside me, it felt as if I wronged him…all the more.

“It’s damn alright. I’ll catch the last mass at 6 pm…” I promised to myself.

BUMPING INTO A FAMILIAR FACE

I took a jeepney ride going to San Pedro Cathedral after my work in PEPSI. I reached the church at 5:35 and the mass was supposed to start at 6:00 pm. On my way to the entrance, just outside the doors of the church I bumped into a familiar face. It was ate Melissa Catague. The sister of my classmate Mitchell Catague. I was glad it was her who called my attention first. I wouldn't have had the nerves to make the first move if she didn't do it. I know myself. When I happen to bump into an acquaintance or a friend on the street, I pretend I don't notice them. It's only after they call my attention that I respond. I know why I'm like that. It's one characteristic of a loner like me. It's in my system to act that way. I always drown on self pity. Who am I to say hi to these people? I remember one incident in my growing up years, I saw a friend(?) in a mall and he was with a group of people his age. I cheerfully called his attention and said hi only to be given that uneasy look giving me a hint that he didn't want his friends to know that I knew him. Same thing happened when I bumped into this 'acquaintance' on a busy street one time. I was all eager to see her but she felt otherwise. She gave me that nasty grin, her eyes rolled telling me in gestures that she wasn't happy to see me at all and we weren't close for me to act that way. It happened many times and it broke my spirit. I got the 'stigma' since then. It was the reason why I am so scared looking at other people's eyes when I'm out on the streets. I don't want to see that look of ridicule and mockery. It hurts me so badly. Anyways, ate Melissa was warmhearted so I didn't feel shy talking to her at all. And she was one person I looked up to when I was in high school so I was excited to dish out what's new about me and her as well all the more. I learned that she is still studying in UM and have shift from Accountancy to Financial Management. I really wish she changes her mind because I feel the Accountancy course is for her. In the middle of the way we were there chitchatting, telling each other what we were up to these days. We talked about her brother Mitchell, her studies, her marriage plans and believe it or not my lovelife (I told her "wala'y mupatol sa'ko 'te!"). Just that and then we parted ways. I personally was happy to bump into her...

FOR GOD SO LOVED THE WORLD; FOR DAD SO LOVED ME

Yes! I made it! I was all teary-eyed that I fulfilled this simple gift of attending this mass in honor and memory of my dad...

I sought for a perfect place to sit the moment I entered the church and found one. I seated at the second row of the second column of the church's benches. It wasn't hard finding one. My eyes rolled around and observed that there were only few people inside. I was thinking, "Wow, this cathedral is too spacious for a small crowd like this." Then I started to think. I wondered how many people like me have gone astray. I looked at the faces of the people praying and told myself: "Here are the flock who steadfastly cling on to God. Happy are they who still find hope despite life's cruelty. But damn, their numbers are decreasing. And we, the problematic and lost souls are growing in numbers like wild mushrooms."

I especially was hit by the homily delivered by the priest today. The gospel reading was taken from that most beautiful and most powerful verse, JOHN 3:16. My Christian friends (Christians are kind people so I know it's ok to claim them as my friends) and perhaps all the Christians in the world would agree in unison that this can be the theme verse for the entire Bible. It succinctly summarizes God's relationship with humanity and the way of salvation. It tells us of the love God has for us and the extent of that love—so great that He sacrificed His only Son on our behalf. It teaches us that anyone who believes in Jesus Christ, God's Son, will be saved. It gives us the glorious hope of eternal life in heaven through the love of God and death of Jesus Christ.

On a personal note, on that very moment, I almost thought that the priest was talking about my father's great love for me and my siblings and what he had sacrificed for us. My father was far from being the perfect father but I know in my heart that he did everything to be the best father he could and for that I am so thankful. He had the heart and will to succeed but it didn't guarantee him that. He didn't finish his studies. In fact, he didn't even finish his elementary. His family was very poor and my grandparents could hardly send him to school.

My mother always tells me that I am more like my father than any of my siblings. She said that like me, my father was very hardworking. At the tender school age while most kids were having fun at play or learning in school, he was out there under the scorching sun, toiling the ricefield, his skin burnt and his hands and feet calloused. My mother always tells me about how my father topped his class despite his plight and turned out to be only 2nd best in favor of a classmate who happened to be the teacher's son.

My father was tough and not showy of emotions. It was a no-no for him to see any of his boys children crying. I remember he hated JOHN LOYD CRUZ very much because he always see him crying in his shows. But see, I inherited it still. Like my dad, I am not showy. I have always been secretive and tough-looking. Ironically, I am emotional. Being tough and strong were just for a show. Inside me, I'm weak... a crybaby. When I'm alone I just can't help but get emotional and burst into tears. I wonder if I got it still from my father. Was he a crybaby too?

Are you familiar with the term "cariño brutal"? My father was like that too. He loved us so much but sometimes it took a lot of patience and understanding to feel that love. He was just so proud. He was egoistic at times. I remember the times when he discouraged me to stop school because he was already very tired of supporting me and just find work to make myself useful. I was so angry with him. And them I would find out from our relatives and his friends that he was all-out and very vocal about saying that he was sooooo proud because his son was an honor student and all. He always made me feel that he didn't care but it turned out he did. His pride just got in the way. In two graduations that I attended (high school and college), my father wasn't there when they transpired. He just came in the picture when the ceremonies had ended, our togas had been taken off and the stage decorations had been taken out. See? my father was so pretentious and proud. It took a while before he gave in. Oh well, better late than never.

My father was a 'loud mouth'. I couldn't remember a day that my dad didn't raise his voice toward us. He always had something to get angry about. But I know it wasn't just a scold. It was his way of showing how much he loved us. Funny but I missed all his "kasaba" now that he is gone...

I love my father very much...yet I wasn't able to tell and show him that I love him. If he is watching over me in the heavens right now, I know he'll understand. He can't blame me. He sees himself in me. I look and act exactly like him. I am his son. I am his footnote!

I LUV U 'TAY!!!