How Fleeting...

...and never regret anything that made you smile... said a character from an Indian movie I happened to chance by called Guzaarish. Pardon the spelling if I wrote it wrongly. It has only been a week since I have seen the film, yet the words cannot ring more true now.

As usual, as is the case of man, and I am only but a human being myself, I get lost in moments of ecstasy, literally. And when one is in such a rush of emotions, he runs being oblivious to consequences, the most inevitable of which is the fact that the moment will end. A moment of joy, seemingly unending at that time, yet over at the snap of a finger, or at the snap of a chord most often called patience.

It started with what seemed to be a vindication of a faithful adoration, held steadfast over every possible hindrance; logic, reason and common sense. There is something poetic about the seeming triumph of bearing the torch of love for someone for over a year, against all odds, as the song goes. And it was indeed a wonderful world as the movie soundtrack went. For over three weeks or so. It was green trees and red roses and blue skies and white clouds. It was goodnight kisses and everlasting hugs, good mornings and "have you taken your meals yet?" smses. And even jokes over silly matters like the Filipino accent and how good it sounds.It almost looked like a promise of love.

Yet it was anything but that. For though I wanted the moment to never end, it was not meant to last. Some people's stars are simply skewed and out of sync, some people's fate is just not for movies, some of us are just born unlucky in love. And over a silly misunderstanding! What a way indeed to finish off a seemingly hard won battle against the rough seas of circumstance,only to succumb to one's self. Yet to push on and bicker about the mundane, same old unresolved issues, new silly ones added and without love and commitment is simply pointless. For what are we here for anyway, but for love and companionship, for understanding and sharing moments both good and bad, for laughter, for dreams, and for life? As short as it is, it's definitely worth more, a life shared together, than a dragging  one led alone.But if the other hand lets go upon the silliest whim, what would make it hold on when the strongest tempest comes-a-hauling?

I believe I've had my self ready should this time came. I have always had myself believe it couldn't happen twice. Silly old me. There aren't any what-ifs this time. There aren't anything more I could do. That was the best of me. That was all I was. This time though, I will allow myself to shed some tears. And they won't be solely tears of sadness or sorrow. They will be tears of joy too, for no matter how seemingly fleeting it all was, these are moments that definitely made me smile, and I won't regret moments as such. Precious short moments where we truly feel alive.

before sunset

When we are younger, our attitude is a bit carefree. We are more likely to take risks, we are more inclined to take for granted special moments; we almost cannot wait to move forward and take on the world and the challenges that are in store for us. We're almost sure that there are people out there that we will be able to connect with, people that we will be on the same level with, people that understand us.

It's the sin of youth.

We only realize when we grow a bit older that there are really only a handful of people that would know us and touch our lives. And sometimes, these people are buried in our past too deeply that it's almost impossible to dig them out.  We also come to know that our dreams and fears when we are younger are still the same dreams that we strive for and the same fears that make us weak. We never change who we are inside.

Before Sunset is a movie, a very interesting movie about an afternoon between two people who shared a one night stand some nine years in the past. The experience of their shared past has left an indelible mark in their lives that they were never able to move on. A finely crafted piece, rather romantic than cynical as it will never happen in real life. The conversations between the characters seem so universal in some ways that one cannot help but relate to them. One doesn't need to have a one night affair to understand this work. One only needs to  fall in love and be loved, and be stupid to let it go thinking that they have a whole life ahead of them to find another soul to connect with; thinking that in time, perhaps they would change and everything will be different.

When it's still morning in our lives and we recognize a connection with another soul, there's no point letting it go on a hope that perhaps another soul is out there and maybe it will fit us better once we changed over time. Thing is, if we can enjoy the whole day, why cram before sunset?

12 km

I gave in. I don't know the real reason but I did it. People think it's a fad. I thought it was a waste of time. Some people say it's healthy. Others join in because their friends are into it. The most stupid reason I heard is that it's the new status symbol. I finished my first race yesterday.

As was expected, I'm sore all over. I don't know the science behind proper running or if there is such. I just ran and probably walked a quarter of the 12 km run that I joined. I didn't get that sense of fulfillment that I thought people got at the finish line. Perhaps it's an overrated thought that I had. I was just glad that the torment was over when I crossed that line. I didn't know that the torture was only beginning. It hurt more today, I could barely stand or sit and it hurt most when I walked. It hurt to move around. I am told it gets worse the second day. So I'm bracing myself for tomorrow.

While we were having a meal after the race, I told my family and friends that I was never doing it again. That was around lunch time yesterday. I was so consumed by pain that just the thought of running again seemed suicidal for me. They were already discussing their schedule for the next race. They were also quite certain that I will run again. After an afternoon's rest and a hearty dinner, while downing some beer, I asked when was the next race that I could join.

I obviously have a lot to learn about running. I may not be doing it properly that's why my heels are very painful. They said I just needed to practice. Maybe when I start to train, it would be wise to be conscious of the time so I can work on my speed and perhaps next time I won't feel so bad being overtaken by people. It is also good to plan the route so I 'll know the distance and the places to slow down and refuel.

Sure it's a long way to go. I'm not planning to be a professional runner. I doubt that a marathon is already in my bucket list. But I've already finished my first race. Maybe I just want to know how far I can go. Then maybe, I could get to know myself more, what I can do when I work hard for something. Maybe I like the physical pain too. It reminds me that I'm human and and that I am still alive.

Or maybe, I just have nothing else to do.

Your Call

*a fiction*


You were supposed to meet him today, after he put off your rendezvous last weekend. This is not the first time that he stood you up. He has been doing it for ages as far as you are concerned and as long as you can remember.

You only met Omar last year. You thought there was something special in his eyes and you immediately fell for his sweet mischievous grin. What you didn't know was that you were beautiful too. You could have any guy you wanted if you allowed yourself  the chance. You were promised the world before, including the stars and everything you could wish for if every single one of them fell. But you were young and had your heart broken. You went through your life avoiding romance, casual lays doing the trick and getting you through. Until you met him. He seemed to know your weak points. You said he simply knew which buttons to push and you suddenly realized that you could not manage without him. You said you were in love.

You could not help but smile now.You wonder how was it possible. All those years you've been cautious, making sure that you did not end up at the same situation as before, where you could not eat, sleep and function properly. And yet here you are now, questioning the soundness of your judgment, not so much about the man you love but about yourself as a judge of character and as a person who almost always gets it wrong.

You stared quietly out the window and tried to think about all the times he broke your heart. All those times that you ignored the little voice inside your head telling you how things really are, but you would still believe otherwise. You have this picture perfect image in your mind about how you want things to be, how they are supposed to be yet because of "unforeseen" circumstances,  they are not. Kind as you are, you believe that there is always something good in a person and you always magnify the positive and tend to forget that the negative exists too. Omar always deserved the benefit of doubt. What if his sister was really in town? Or that his client called just moments before you were to meet? That's why  he had to cancel.And what if his mother really died?

You do not understand how deep you were into this guy. A lot of things about him are unknown to you. It suddenly dawned on you that you didn't just bed a stranger, which was nothing new, you gave your heart away to someone you didn't know at all.

Remember the time he was moving house? You were so eager to see him that you offered to help him move. He declined saying he was only bringing his clothes and that he was going to meet you after he settled in. You were playing images on your mind about the move, how you were going to help him carry piles of hangers and bags of clothes. Then you'll be getting refreshments for both of you to cool off. Turned out he needed the whole day until late at night to move in even with a battalion of movers. You thought that it was an awfully lot of striped T-shirts that needed to be moved.

How about the time you almost went to the airport after learning he was overseas? Weren't you always contemplating on a Buddhist pilgrimage in Nepal? You never got invited did you? But you received a promise to meet up once he returned home. Of course he had to attend to office matters first. It took a really long time to clear the office matters right? Now he has already taken a new job.

Then there was the fasting month. You patiently waited for it to end as there was a holiday for that. You thought he would take a break since his job was so hectic. You hoped you'd get a chance to share at least a meal together. But his mother recently passed away that year and it was the first time he was celebrating the holiday without her. He couldn't bear the thought of spending it alone. All the more reason for him to spend holiday with someone, you thought, but still he didn't spend it with you.

Before he moved in to his brother's place, wasn't he staying alone in the east side? There's a funny story when you were on the way to the beach in the east and you needed to heed nature's call. His place was along the way  and you asked to drop by to use the toilet. You must have crossed your usual lines on decency. You knew he was home but he wouldn't answer your calls. You almost shit your pants.

Christmas and New Year came without incident. You were excited to do some shopping with him but as expected you had to do it alone. It's probably high time to give up on the gift you bought for him unless you want to wait for the next Christmas season when you already wasted one  with the hope of him coming around.

Do you realize that in all these crap he has subjected you to, you have always been the one to apologize? With all the broken promises, you were steadfast? All these times, all he did was match your devotion with his lies. You are a simple soul. You only wanted to see him again. Plain and simple indeed. And you do everything right. You let him decide where to meet you. You agree on the time he sets. And you reconfirm the meeting. But as fate will have it, a very important call will come, right when you are on the way to meet him. He needs to fix a presentation for his client. It is raining and it will kill him if he gets wet that's why he has to cancel.

And the best part of it is that it becomes your fault. For not understanding that he is busy. He does not have a lot of time like you do. He doesn't need you to add to his pressures. Now he does not wish to argue with you.You have suddenly become the villain. You are in the wrong. All these because you wanted to see him badly. Of course you do not get an apology. You never receive any apology at all, ever. You get a threat instead. "It's your call" he says.

You know it is your call indeed. You have always known.  But being the person that you are, you believe that he is always worth  another blow to your ego. For him, you would take another slap on your face. You would always give another piece of your heart for him to break.

I always wonder why you still bother, when I am here all along. I have been here all along. For everything he has put you through, I suffered twice your pain. Everytime you gave him another chance, that's another chance I missed. Everytime you decide it's worth another try with him, that's one more chance I don't get. If only I had me like you do. Omar is right, it's your call.

-Slovenia-

*a fiction*


Where is Slovenia? No, this is not to copy Coelho's Veronika Decides to Die, which is exactly the book I was reading when you came into the picture of my otherwise dull existence. You are from Slovenia. I just knew from a very reputable author that your country  was  part of the former nation called Yugoslavia. What I didn't know was that it was going to be quite memorable to make your acquaintance.

You were on vacation and you have already been to more places around the area than I can claim to have visited. It was only your first time in Southeast Asia and to think I've lived here all my life. You said you love the weather. And you show off your tan and the peeling skin on your arms. I gather you would love the sun as I've read it can get really gloomy where you're from. But if you stayed here a little longer, say all your life, you probably will share my curiosity about winter and the feel of snow and then learn to abhor the eternal summer of the tropics. That is the irony of anything and everything new. It gets old  and we get tired of it.

On your way back to Europe, you had a spare night to spend in Singapore since your plane takes off from here and not in Malaysia. We decided to meet. It is always thrilling to know people from around the world, quite more so if they are Slovene. You mentioned that not all Europeans know where Slovenia is located. So you drew a map to point it out. I remember that neither of us had a pen handy so you went to ask from the store owner and then started to draw the map of Europe at the back of a Toto ticket. I had to put the "boot" of Italy in place before I can get a bearing off the doodle that you just made. Yet  I'm quite satisfied that I was able to point out the principality of Andorra from Monaco. I felt wanting though when I realized I had no idea at all about Norway's whaling practices and how it stops them from joining the European Union (though it doesn't keep them from enjoying all the perks of a member just the same), or the United Kingdom's stance that the Sterling Pound may lose some value if they adopted the Euro. I remember that I had nothing relevant to say when you asked about Cambodia's current relations to Thailand. How embarrassing indeed that I didn't know about the current events around my area of the world. But we continued to talk. You asked my opinion about China as a superpower. I'm not very keen or interested about China's new found influence on the world. I said that as a non-Chinese, I felt bullied  when my own government had to boycott the Nobel Prize ceremonies honoring the Chinese revolutionary to avoid upsetting the Chinese government. I could only agree with you when you said that the Japanese people were truly remarkable, the way that they were coping and dealing with the tragedy that recently struck them. I said that they are handling their case gracefully and that no other nation can do it better.

The night was wearing on. You are not much of a beer drinker, so you said. You were more into wine. I figured that out when you drank your second bottle without taking off the crown. You made quite a mess of the table. I asked about the wine making process, if it was still anything like in the movies where people were dancing and stomping on grapes. Apparently, it was never the case since the last century and everything is processed by machines nowadays. I reckon that the beer making process is probably the same if not much less interesting so my indignation is definitely misplaced. You shared stories about your trips around Europe but I was more interested about Africa and it came as no surprise that you've been there too. So it costs 5 Euros to fly from Spain to Morocco. I still wonder how it feels to be in Casablanca though you say you went to a different city, probably along the same route that the guy in The Alchemist, trying to find his treasure, took.

We were running out of things to say. If you didn't notice, I was completing your sentences. When you couldn't find the appropriate words to articulate a thought, they seem to slip right out of my mouth and you agreed. It's a classic moment. In a way, we seem to be connected. Like two sides of the same coin, we somehow shared a common ground. And it was comfortable. There is nothing that can beat that feeling.

Then you asked if I wanted to proceed, I threw the question right back at you. And you said yes. I did too. Not because you said so first, but because I really wanted to. I didn't know the area; you were the tourist but you had to lead the way. I gave you my share for the room. Since beer was already paid Dutch, everything else was.

The moments thereafter were a blur. I just found myself in your arms and you were in mine. I could not stop staring at your grey eyes. And you looked right back, without prejudice, without expectations and without lies. We kissed. We kissed a lot. I could not get enough of your sweet little thin lips, my stubbles up the nape of your neck and your little fingers on my face and in my hair. I ran my fingers tracing the contours of your face, my nose is on your cheek, while you were  breathing into my ear. Then I kissed your pointy little chin, and your perfect neck pink from your recent basking. We hugged and cuddled, your soft skin against my unpolished leather hands. If only you didn't live in Ljubljana, you said we'd have a chance. We kissed like crazy, like we can't kiss anymore tomorrow. And sure enough, there was no tomorrow for us to keep kissing. You asked if it was worth it meeting you. I smiled.

It is dawn, minutes to sunrise. We were exhausted. But we still had our lives to live. You had to go back to your hotel and pray you'd be able to catch some needed sleep before your friend asks you to accompany her for some shopping. Your flight wasn't till midnight but that's already less than twenty four hours. I had to rest too as I was still recovering from a tooth surgery. We walk together towards the street, smoked a cigarette each and bought something to drink. You made me promise to write you. Then you showed me the way to go home. This is where we part, your hotel is just a couple of blocks across the street. We say our goodbyes. I look at your eyes for the last time, your tired grey eyes that I shall never see again. And then when I was going for a handshake, you pulled me in for a hug. Then I turned around and slowly walked away.

So where is Slovenia? If the map on the Toto ticket was accurate, it would be situated north of Croatia and south of Austria.

yesterday, today and tomorrow

If we refer to the past, it is wise to separate the good from the bad memories. It makes perfect sense, especially if we're coping or just reminiscing.It's always better to remember happy thoughts. It can make us smile without fail. To gloat over the bad ones is simply distasteful. It is not worth the effort of remembering, or we run the risk of reliving the pain and sadness.

The present is to be dealt with differently. We have to take the good with the bad. We are ot accorded the luxury of choice, if we are to be wise. We must accept the fact that we learn just as much from mistakes as we do from good experiences, if not more.Our pain, sadness and tears magnifiy the joy, laughter and grins. We appreciate how good we have it, when we realize how bad it can go.

The uncertainties of the future can be dealt with by a single entity which escaped the box of Pandora. All of us are innately hopeful. And that's all we need to embrace the dawn daily.

cracking up

"Circumstances does not make the man, it reveals him to himself," wrote James Allen. Everyday I am finding myself under circumstances that are not too favorable for me. To think that it is really my own doing, the product of my train of thoughts, manifested in the formation of habits and ultimately resulted in unfavorable circumstances, does not make it any better. Although the thought that I am not totally hopeless seems to be uplifting. I am what I think, so I believe is the point of the book.

We cannot change our circumstances. So true. Yet we can change our thoughts. And the realization that these circumstances are revelations of what we truly are now scares me. I used to think I'm a person who gets by with taking crap from other people. I do it for a living, customer service line, seven years. Try to stay in this line for half a year and you'll understand that it can be hell, like a war-zone Yet I thrived. I'm not overtly proud of what I do. Yet I am secretly feeding my ego with the belief that I am good at what I do. To be cracking now is so passe. So we have good days and bad. Sure we're still human and we each have our thresholds. Sure we got our own ways to cope and probably sometimes, we just can't help but snap. It sure is not a good enough reason at all. It's a job, after all.

But what I'm now questioning is not the act of giving in to emotional outbursts that unfortunately come hand in hand with the job. Now I'm questioning the fact that I'm doing this job at all. If what I previously believed to be true, that is that I was good at this is now questionable even to the only person who actually believes this, that is me, I think it is time to question if it is still worth it. One reason some people actually put up with this is their belief in the idea that they are actually good at what they do and if that belief is shattered, then it becomes exactly what it is which is really just another  crappy job conveniently there to pay bills and help them get by till the next pay day. It is true. I would not broadcast what I do to the world. But I take pride in the idea that I'm actually good at it. Now I'm in doubt. And that's when it starts to be dangerous. For a person who craves stability and security, it's very discomforting to find oneself in such a predicament.

And there's still the saying that it comes in three's, so anxiety level is on a high. I know it's not right to be wallowing in selfish thoughts about the possibilities that may happen with the temporary loss of cool and snapping of threads, when the Japanese people are suffering over the the natural catastrophe, the earthquake and tsunami. But when I am presented with paths that may possibly determine my mission or my legend, forgive me but I'd like to take time and consider.

...old school...

Old school is cool. That's a notion I've always had. I remember the term always used in contexts that figure in the cool category. It's associated with cool alternative music we listened to while we're still in school, the nonchalant hippie attire that cool people wear or the snobbish who-gives-a-damn attitude that cool people have.

But when I was looking for a term that meant backward-looking, surprisingly old school turned up.

I was only referring to going back to posted mail or snail mail in the era of hi-tech communication. With the inherent convenience of e-mail and text messaging, communicating by snail mail definitely qualifies as backward-looking, at least for me. It is slow, it's tedious and may seem just down right absurd sometimes. Make that doubly more so to a person who hasn't sent a letter by post in over a decade.

 It doesn't help that most of what people receive by mail are just bills anyway. So I am not a fan of mailed  letters. Yet I know a friend who may be. Some people still believe that a handwritten letter is more personal, intimate even. That part I'd have to agree. Yes, it is indeed more so because of the effort put to it. Writing a letter by hand is time consuming making it more special, I guess. Plus the physicality of holding a piece of paper, maybe even touching the words written, adds  to the drama. It works well in movies. Receiving a handwritten letter is always uplifting, be it expected or not.

But it's funny that the thought of sending one can be very daunting for me. It is not solely to be blamed on my lethargy, though it's also a great factor. It is because of my ignorance of the process.

Sending a letter by post in Singapore is very simple, that is if it's already your second time to do it. Unfortunately for me, the opportunity to learn the process never presented itself before. And I never pursued the knowledge as I never thought it was necessary. So I had to fumble my way though my first. I know I looked awfully dumb asking my friends how to do it, and they in turn trying their best to impart their knowledge, in vain as what they say just fall on deaf ears, with me having no clue at all.

"You can buy the stamps from the automated machine. Just follow the instructions. It would ask which country you're sending to, show you the rates and you can pay via Nets. Very simple." These are self automated machines that people use to pay their bills; utility, phone etc. So you can only imagine the long queues on a good day. With the infamous patience of people from around here, it doesn't take a minute before you hear grunts from behind you wondering why you're taking so long. I gave it a shot. Yes. One attempt. Very simple instructions indeed. A five year old may very well have been the one who gave out the instructions. It's quite wanting, really, especially for someone who claims to be forward-looking. I left the machine and googled the nearest post office.

Old school way of buying stamps. Just go back to the basics, that is if you need to send a letter, visit the nearest post office for stamps and for the drop box as well. Old school eh? Really cool. I'll leave the SAM for another day, if I get a reply.

wasted...

I got drunk last night. Tiger beer. It's not cheap getting drunk in a foreign country, especially if one is still in the habit of converting currencies. But after awhile, say three years, one chooses not to be bothered with conversion rates. Sometimes, a person just has to do what he's gotta do, like be drunk and probably have some decent conversation on the side.

Talk about politics, talk about work, talk about future plans and... talk about dreams. I am going to Brazil. That's a dream to be realized in four years' time. That was just a thought that suddenly found its words while I was gulping down a bottle of beer. One very recent addition to a bucket list that seems to be growing longer each day. It appears like all I've been doing recently is just rot away, never giving any thoughts for childhood dreams that I've so fancied back in the days. Whatever happened to the enthusiasm and drive to tick off one by one the things I needed and wanted to get done before I die? It seems like I dropped them when I jumped off that crane in Thailand to cross off Bungee jumping from my list. Could it be that I'm only good for 1 entry off my list? Or could it be that my list is just a total waste of time, yet only half as good as the time I spend getting drunk and wasted?

It's probably because of the rat race called adulthood, where one is trapped in a vicious cycle of growing molds while waiting for the pay check to clear bills. There is no doubt money is  great factor to consider when it comes to crossing out some entries on my list. Money- probably the reason I left home thinking I could make more if I took off and finding out now that I'm actually spending more and wasting more with GST on everything I buy and everything else costing thrice as much from where I came from.

It will be unacceptable to come to a point in the future when one realizes that his time is up and yet his Bucket list appears as brand new as that of a kid's only starting to build dreams and with nothing done, nothing crossed out, nothing achieved. If that realization will be mine in the future, I could not even begin to imagine how I will be feeling.

So my drunken moments have yielded yet another awakening; that I am a long way from getting a life well lived, one with the least regrets as possible, one with most of my to-do things done. I've yet to jump off a plane and succumb to gravity hanging on a parachute, yet to buy my dream sandals which I've only been putting off indefinitely because of the seeming irrationality behind the purchase- I always feel it is sold more than it is worth. I've yet to pen some thoughts with social relevance to actually have a chance to be printed in my country's paper, something a fifteen year old can actually do.

I may be getting wasted on a regular basis but these wasted moments sometimes give me a chance to reflect and think back on a seemingly wasted yet still glorious past- wasted only because I have no power to change it, and a future that's full of possibilities and dreams to be ticked off a Bucket list. 

I guess it's not a waste after all. Or could it be the Tiger from last night, and that I'm still only just too wasted?