I went to the clinic the other day where I’m supposed to be having my pre-employment check-up. The doc wanted me to follow through with an ultrasound. I couldn’t. I didn’t have enough funds. Then, God sends an outpouring of love and blessings. God bless those who help even though their good actions cannot be reciprocated right away. Thank you for not giving up on me, my son and my mother during these trying times.
Back to the past…
March 30, 2002 - Saturday
A few days ago, a riot broke out here. A man was slain in public. According to those who witnessed the gruesome event, a man named Kimpay was drunk. He started to tease another man named Kats who was talking with his friend on a particular floor above us. Kats became annoyed and he stabbed Kimpay who, after being stabbed, staggered down to their flat on the first floor. He asked help from his brother, Andy. Andy, being a member of the task force, equipped himself with a gun and rushed to where Kats was talking with his friend. When he got there, he shot Kats. Not known to him, Kats’ brother was at the scene and seeing his brother shot, he rushed at Andy. Andy shot him twice in the chest. Kats’ brother must have thought that he was left with no choice and that if he was going to die, he should take Andy with him. So he rushed towards Andy and stabbed him fifteen times with a screwdriver. Andy died on the spot.
Kats and his brother were rushed to the hospital, guarded by the Task Force along with Kimpay.
Andy’s friends in the Task Force are now lamenting for Andy in the park on the ground floor. A day after Andy’s death, around one to one thirty in the morning, the residents who were awake heard gunshots. One gunshot. A pause. Then five to six consecutive ones. The next day, around midnight, there was a commotion on the ground floor, where the Task Force was stationed. The witnesses, people who peered from their respective floors, saw the Task Force beating up a kid. They dragged him into a van and took him to their main station. The following day, we heard quarreling on the ground floor. We rushed to have a glimpse at the commotion. We saw them, the Task Force, beating up an old drunken man whom they said was peeing on the wall and afterwards displayed his…self…in front of women who happened to pass by. While beating him up, Ate Grace, a woman living about six to seven flats away from us started to shout that they should stop already. Seeing us, she walked towards us and started to shout in front of our house. One of the Task Force, recognizing who was shouting, shouted back at her.
Ever since then, we (my family and I) have been living in constant fear because the men keep looking at us from the ground floor as if they’re planning something. Such a peachy life we live here.
March 31, 2002 - Sunday
Rico Yan died a couple of days ago.
Mama just told us how she visited the house of a man and how he and his wife turned her away, giving her two hundred pesos for the taxi fare going home. The woman told her that they have been informed with so many things and the informant was quite close to Mama.
Mama came home crying.
The Lord has a purpose for everything.
May the Lord shine His light upon our hearts to guide us through everything in life.
Thoughts
For the past three nights, I’ve dreamt about my friends from Embryo and in the last dream was Ivan. What made my last dream odd was the fact that he was excited to see me, wonder vivid on his face.
April 2, 2002 - Tuesday
I am no longer the same. There are certain matters in which I am powerless to intervene in and because of this, I am a failure. Yet as if having accomplished a great good, He rewards me with people…people whose concern and love for me flows unreservedly. Man can be the most ruthless of brutes that he can endure punishment as consequence for his actions. But I am a woman…barely a woman but aside from being an inelegant lady, I am human. In my desire to become a better person I continuously fail. And as consequence to my failures He makes His love for me more manifest. And this is what I cannot endure. To be constantly aware of the wrongs I have done…and to feel Him not keeping count of them…I feel like I don’t deserve the nobility of second chances.
My heart, my very essence is glowing with affection for Him because more than a servant fearing a king, I love my master. He is perfect in the innermost chambers of my mind, unblemished. One can be bound to another by fear and it is not enough. Fear cannot cause love. It is like an irritating shackle to which we are bound and soon grow to hate.
But love can cause fear. Love values respect…and this kind of fear is transcendent. Love is not about self rather it is about another soul.
*Sigh*
I will not give up. Time is free as my efforts are timeless. Lord, please be patient with me.
April 3, 2002 - Wednesday
I have no idea what time it is but I’m sure it’s around one in the morning. Ate Abbie approached me awhile ago with a piece of paper and a small figurine in her hand. I read the paper. She was asking me to create a sort of letter/interpretation about the figurine, similar to what she asked me to make before. The figurine was a tiny dolphin.
Although I am not the kind of person that always shows her sentiments, I am truly gratified that I am able to help not only her but also others with my writing (for example, Ate Kier’s book report). To be of service to others is something that elevates my being. It is like a wordless compliment.
This is what I gave her.
‘Dolphin
The beauty of the dolphin is sacred. It is the pulse of the vast ocean, the very spirit of every recurrent wave. It rides the mystery of clouds descending from the sky to look at its reflection upon the sea. The sea is pleasant; it is salty like cold sweat, the product of hard labour. Sailing to a great distance, the sea becomes a wide emptiness, as if it is calling out to be filled. Then suddenly, the surface trembles…the dolphin leaps in one graceful movement! His unexpected presence is like light parting darkness, day chasing night, his fins wave at you with warm acceptance; his body sparkles as droplets of water cling to him like a robe of diamonds, his crown of jewels is the spray of saltwater.
But his smile…
…His smile is noble but ordinary, real but everlasting, silent but gentle.
There is nothing more beautiful than that unreserved smile. It makes all the difference in the world.
And then, as if summoned by his timidity, he returns to the depths of the ocean, reaching the floor of his home. Despite the fleeting encounter, the memory of meeting him is immortal.
More than being beautiful, the dolphin is true, which is more splendid than beauty. Every person is a dolphin. Let us explore the turbulent waters of life and, finding peace in each other, grapple with the waves to reach the beautiful ocean floor. In the end of it all, it is not the trials that we overcame that is important, nor is it the mistakes we’ve created that is significant. We are human after all. What we should consider priceless is what we had along the journey that made us triumphant in the end. The unreserved smile.’
Later
I’ve finished reading Les Misérables…
I had a dream last night. When I woke up, I told myself I would write it down. But now, I can’t remember what it is.
Anyway, since I’m writing about dreams, I want to write down two dreams I had in 1998. The more accurate details of the first are in my Titanic notebook, which I bought when the fad was still rampant. I’m not sure if I ever wrote the second one but I think I didn’t because at that time I was preoccupied with other matters that soon I forgot to note it down. But I can still remember them clearly as if I have dreamt of them only yesterday. The first was a nightmare and the second was a beautiful dream.
The first dream.
I was with Ate, her then boyfriend, Berns, and my colored friend whom I didn’t know. As we went inside a building that resembled the church at Philam, I noticed that there were many people. Upon entering, I noticed that two sets of winding staircases were on either side of me. In front of me was a huge crowd of people seated on pews. They were watching someone up in front. As my eyes followed the direction of the aisle, I noticed that there was an altar placed on a wooden dais. A red cloth covered the altar and there was a woman lying prostrate on top of it. She was holding something near to her chest and she was reciting something in a low voice with her eyes open fixed on the ceiling above her and they seemed unblinking (she resembled Odette Khan). I suddenly felt hungry so I asked Ate if she would like to eat pizza from Pizza Hut. She said yes so I told her and Berns to reserve seats for us. As my friend and I stepped out of the building, something alarming happened. I thought I heard several people screaming and then suddenly, I couldn’t see anything anymore. I was blind. I knew people around me were panicking and they were running in different directions because they were bumping into me. I frantically reached out to my friend and asked help because I couldn’t see and he calmly whispered soothing words in my ear.
‘Say, “I believe in the ten powers of the world” ten times and believe.’
Trusting him completely, I did exactly what he told me to do. After saying the lines over and over ten times, I suddenly felt comforted as if enveloped in a warm light. I felt as if a black cloud has been lifted and as I started to blink to adjust to the sudden presence of daylight, a horrifying scene unfolded in front of me. People were running everywhere, hands outstretched, screaming for help. They were all blind. Cars have crashed into electric posts, trees, etc. There were people crawling on hands and knees, people hugging their selves, people crying in agony. Chaos was everywhere. I held tight to my friend and we slowly made our way through the commotion. He whispered kind words in my ear, urged me to be brave with each advancing step. He told me to not let the people touch me because as soon as I let them, I would become blind again.
The second dream.
I was in a boat with three men in the middle of a calm lake. I was feeling very happy, satisfied, calm and loved. When I turned to speak to the people I was with, I suddenly became aware of who they really were. Abraham and Moses were sitting on one end; I sat in the middle while Jesus sat on the other end. They smiled at me as I asked my question.
‘Where are we going?’
Suddenly I felt aware of an enormous structure nearby. There was a big rock in the middle of the lake. We stared at it while the boat continued to move without anyone rowing. As we got closer to the rock, I noticed a light glowing behind the rock, growing brighter as we got nearer to it. The boat made for the rock’s left side, turning to reach the light behind the rock and soon we disappeared.
I do not understand the purpose of these dreams and their meaning come to me only as forms of emotions, as conclusions.
When I was a child I used to dream frequently and the dreams were highly detailed. About three times a week, I would dream about being able to fly. And it was not just seeing myself flying. I would feel it, feel my feet rise from the ground and soon, feel complete control over my body’s movement in the air just as a person with control over his body as he runs or swims. I would float and move in one direction for a while and then soar a thousand feet in the air, feeling my stomach churn uncomfortably, but still aware of the cool wind upon my face. Then, knowing that the time was up, I would return to the ground slowly. Then I would wake up. Sometimes I’d dream about jumping off a building of a thousand stories. When I finally hit the ground, I would wake up, as if my spirit had roamed during the fall and returned to my body when it finally landed.
April 6, 2002 - Saturday
It’s Keng’s birthday party today. I hope the day would be wonderful…I just have a feeling that things won’t go very well today. Oh well. I’ll just do my best to enjoy the day with my friends.
April 7, 2002 - Sunday
I’ve just returned from Keng’s party. I spent the night at her place. Things were ok. I spoke with Keng, John, Kitkat, Gole and Loui. Almost everyone at the party was broken-hearted. I tried to cheer them up and enlighten them. I hope I was of some use.
April 9, 2002 - Tuesday
The night radiates of melancholic silence. I am ever alone, accompanied only by the melting glow of the sky. My feet are carrying me slowly across the soft grass. The echoes of their whispers are a faint reminder that I once lived. Is it death, then, that I am celebrating? No. I am in the middle of a vast heartache. I will not draw comfort from outside nor from inside. Where is comfort? Not here. Not far. Where…?
I let solitude separate me from belongingness because by letting it come, I am unable to hurt the people dear to me with goodbye. I cannot keep up with them. The current is far stronger where I am traveling. They have reached far while I am still struggling to save myself from drowning. And to ask help from them would make them come back and risk their selves.
For what…? For saving me…?
Better for one to suffer than all. Even mountain climbers know the general rule.
Who am I to dictate them to come when I do not own them? I only shared them for a glorious while. The clamor of suffering surrounds me day and night. My passion to help them grows ever stronger every passing while. I cannot hear my own cries. It is enough that I loved them once and once is forever. And it is more than enough that they showered me with spoken and unspoken affection.
When I cry, only few of them will understand. The very few who delved into my life to search how I came to be. Not all of them will understand the reason for every tear. Why am I unhappy when I know the Lord loves me in His own way? I am unhappy because I know the boundaries of my being…because I know how much I can do and know it will never be enough to heal the billion wounds inflicted on my people every day.
Why do I even bother about them? Simple. I love them with an unbreakable devotion. And who will love me the same way? God knows.
I feel so alone and yet I welcome the feeling. I’ve learned from past experiences that loneliness cannot be avoided and to triumph over it, you have to learn to embrace it. And I am embracing it.
Only…I cannot stop my heart from aching.
April 11, 2002 - Thursday
Ate Abbie and I went to ATC the other day because she was going to buy a 3310. Today, we went to Merville to look for a nice swimming place. We found one but they won’t allow the swimmers to stay overnight. Awhile ago, we went to Aunt Josie’s flat on the second floor to meet with Kuya Mike and Ate Nine because they’re planning to put up a band. I’m getting myself ready for a job interview.
April 14, 2002 - Sunday
I’m currently suffering from an allergy. I find it really odd because it’s the first time I’ve ever had an allergic reaction. I hope I recover soon because Ate Abbie has invited me to come along on their swimming trip.
Kuya Alex has just arrived. We were sort of surprised because we haven’t heard from him lately. I think it’s a good sign.
A riot broke out in the park on the ground floor so we went out of our flat to watch from the fourth floor. Someone shoved somebody else away and another started hitting someone with a long piece of wood. The people who gathered on the 4th floor passage to watch the commotion applauded (except us). Mom yelled at them to go away, saying that if they wanted to applaud, they should go somewhere else. Manding Lopez started shouting at the spectators to leave. Some of the people on the ground floor who were fighting started to walk right in front of us on the ground floor and warning us to leave, brought out a gun and started to aim at us in the building. Heck, I feel like I’m in another world.
April 15, 2002 - Monday
I am currently texting my cousins, Jen and Romalc. I’ve mentioned them in my previous entries. Jen is currently apologizing for not being able to attend Gian’s christening. She told over text that she’d explain the reason why she wasn’t informed in time. Anyway, I don’t know how to explain what I feel. I am pleased that we have renewed communication but a foreboding feeling prevents me from being entirely joyful.
I am also currently texting my dear friend, Der. She’s asking if I wanted a LOTR ring. Of course! I told her, it would be great, thanks. She told me that there would be a party by the end of the month held by one of our friends from Embryo. I told her, I would love to come but there’s one thing stopping me. I told her, I’d write to her because I couldn’t explain it over the phone.
There has been an issue among my cousins. I wonder why we have to keep ourselves concerned with trivial matters such as petty fights when we could turn our attention to other things that are more worthwhile.
April 16, 2002 - Tuesday
I’ve just finished watching I-Witness on CH 7. All those dogs…
*Sniff*
I grew up surrounded with dogs at our house at Diaz. Mico, my first and last dog, was born around September of ’95, I remember it well because I happened to be at our backyard and I was calling Tasha, our only female dog (Mom gave her the name because according to her, the dog’s face looks like a cup). After calling about three times, I started to look for her. We had a pump house then so I proceeded there, thinking maybe she was sleeping inside. When I peeked through the window, I saw her on the floor and she seemed hurt. I was about to enter when I saw a white pup crawling on the floor beside her. I shouted in delight and called out to everyone in the house. We all watched anxiously through the window as she gave birth to four pups. All pups were brown and white in color, except for the first pup I saw. I immediately claimed him mine. He had black spots around his ears, and Mom wanted to call him Headphones but I claimed his name to be Mico (because of Michael Jackson). Ate Odette claimed the pup that followed him and I suggested that he should be called Clark (Superman). Kuya Bong claimed the next pup and called him Subic.
*Jeez*
And my Mom claimed the last pup and called him Oskie because one of his ears drooped while the other remained upright, he had a mole on the cheek and he was small. We used to have a neighbor named Oscar and the dog resembled him so there.
All in all, we had seven dogs, namely Saddam, Tasha, Charles, Mico, Clark, Subic and Oskie (Benjie, our oldest dog, died before Tasha gave birth). I spent every day of the summer of that year at our backyard just playing with the dogs. I’d lie on the wooden bench at our backyard, watching the clouds move on lazy afternoons and Mico would watch them with me. Sometimes, I’d play the harmonica and he’d sing along. It was also during that summer that I began to write simple poems.
*Sigh*
That year was a nice year for me. Although Dad and I had conflicts that year, it was the year when I felt inspired for the first time to become a writer. I had problems but I was always uplifted with simple moments of happiness…
…I hope I have the means to help the City Pound improve its facilities. If only…!
LaterApril 3, 2002 - Wednesday
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