A Warning we should take heed

The happening in the afternoon of Saturday, September 26 broke out like a raging typhoon to the world. And it really was. Typhoon Ondoy hit Metro Manila and neighboring provinces like a sudden spill of a cup - unchangeable, inalienable. The typhoon shook, and took away a hundred (and counting) lives. The metropolis suddenly transformed into an eerie of doom and gloominess while debris march along the flow of the current in the flooded areas of the place; with people waiting with their feet firm on rooftops of flooded houses, hoping for a quick rescue.

I heard of the fateful happening while spending my weekend in Cebu City, the first time after a long time. This also came to me like a shock like how it came to everybody because I have never seen a shot of progressive Metro Manila in its flooded, extremely drenched scene. I have never seen Manila in its calamity state, drenched not only in waters but also in melancholy, silenced cries, and the indescribable luminance of malady at its peak.

And to add to my increasing shock, I remembered my brother Jerry in Rizal, who we later discovered to have walked 8 hours with half of his body under water, to rescue immediately his belongings in his house 20 kilometers away.

Perhaps, as these scenes flash on our eyes on television, realities cross our minds. There's nothing we can do but prevent such to happen again. In this light, we remember that the humankind has done a mistake.

Realizations come that God crafted all these things to happen: to shake our minds and hearts through stirring it, and in the end, making us realize that we can do our part for the environment.

There's something we should do so we will no longer hear these alarming news next time. And the answer is on our hands.

My eyes are cleared

"Could it be the reason?" I surmised as we walked with a group of friends that stressful day. "Well, if he says it, It's okay. As my book suggests, It's a small stuff," I continued. "But If he says it," I blurted, "I confirm it fully... he's indeed a faggot."

And yes, he did. He did a not-so-manly remark that day. It was something a straight man could not do, or maybe not care about. And it didn't happen once during my moments of careful observation. And that remark is not my only basis.
Many times WE have always questioned his manliness - in his back. There were many of us in fact. But no one could dare ask him. Our former close friends who already graduated have aired their doubts. My sister even asked me once. Many of my close friends who know him did and I did, too. But again, no one could tell him. And who would? Who would dare ask a kind of question to someone who has been too good to you? Can you ask it straightly to his face? I couldn't. We couldn't.

He's silent today, he's loud tomorrow. Most times, he jibes with men... The voice defies, but the interests couldn't. He's different. His stories of his relationships to women are still in mid-air, flowing in dubious whiffs of smoke. From ideas to acts, from his walking to the flow of conversation... I just can't help but question. And when the colors show off, my group of friends, with just one wink and silly smile from me, gets it. And then, we question.

"His laugh shows it," one blurts out. "No, he's threatened with gays, and that's what gays do," one rebuts. "Yes, he's awkward with other guys," one airs. And the questions go longer and longer and I cut it with a remark, "when we question, there's a 99% possibility." It is not necessary for a man to have a relationship to the same sex to be called gay.
And yes, the issue ended there. But there's nothing wrong with asking ourselves. Poeple ask when there's a need to ask. We ask the government if we see signs of injustice. We asked our parents in our confusion stages then. And I don't think, that at this time, questioning one's sexuality in a private conversation is an act of defaming a person, or maligning one as an individual. We are free from being penalized for such conversations. And I never think God has called questioning a sin.

But that stressful day proved me. His remark were like a big Yeses pointed on my very ears. The remark I'm saying remains controversial. But I'm not bitter nor did i feel ashamed from that remark or act. I still respect people regardless of sexuality or how they've tried and reeled toward being a man... even if they fully can't. It's their life, it's their happiness.

But that fateful incident sure did extinguished my doubts. And now, I doubt and question no more...

Rekindling First Love.

I can't clearly remember what ambition came first when I was a kid. As far as I can remember, there were numerous of them: being a pilot, being a teacher, a scientist, an inventor, animator, TV host, architect, among others. But there's an ambition then that my parents still believe i could become. And seeing the signs back then: the busted tapes, the dysfunctional karaoke, and the stories my family and relatives tell about my childhood, I have the strongest certainty that music, among others, is my first love.

My parents' stories could prove one thing: being a singer was my first (frustrating) childhood ambition. But college took that love away. I became a fan of writing and hosting. But the past weeks draw me back to my usual childhood vice. Yes, I was kind of oblivious that i have been drowning on a vice too expensive.

Okay. Okay. I was oblivious for days and now i realized, I have really been so crazy with singing, particularly the videoke. I realized by the end of the week that I have consumed half of my allowance for videoke singing. Too bad. "Whatever happens," I say, "singing never ends."

I have never been a bad singer, i suppose... but I believe I am not very excellent (knowing that the now-known Chivas and Bunny won against me and my partner back in a duet competition in high school). Despite these, there's still something in singing and the videoke, particularly, that drags me into this different feeling when I take the microphone and sing the lines. It's also something that my close friend Alton Jave, a videoke-hater should i tag, has not understood well. (BANG! hahaha.)

Probably because its part of my family's life since then - my Papa used to be a singer in his teenage. My Mama, well, loves music but music hates her. And to prove that, my mom bought a videoke player with a song book last summer, and when asked why she bought that, she tells us, "magtoon man ko'g kanta beh!" BANG! My closest sister Christine, like me, was a choral soprano member of Tanjay's El Shaddai Senior choral and has never refused a videoke microphone passed to her. My Manong Victor does sing. As a matter of fact, he spent his month's salary for a bulky videoke machine and makes money (imagine the many 5-peso coins) out of it.

We just love singing. My friends barely know this but in our house almost everyday, the videoke player with 10,000 songs are on the ready, the song book is open 24/7, and the microphone is set in its place. My father usually welcomes visitors to sing in the house, while mom prepares some drinks for them, and they socialize, talk, and talk.

From that time on, I realize there are more reasons to come home every weekends. But i don't come home just to sing. But there's something in videoke that makes me feel glad. There's more to just experiencing the nice feeling of having reached the highest tone of my favorite jaw-breaking videoke songs.

I feel glad that right now, after mom having bought a videoke, weekends are never the same. Rather than just sleeping, eating, and talking, there's a different kind of chain that bonds us together as a family. There's a moment that we smile together, while our spirits delight the presence of each other. There's a bond that flushes away our worries of tomorrow's school, work, and people.

Most importantly, i feel glad I'm back to the love that in a moment in my life, i have forgotten... and I'm back that its back for good and we'll share life together.

This could mean "Finally Happy"

Every post in this blog site is a cup. And before I start off my rants in this cup, I would like to tell the whole World Wide Web that I noticed an injustice in this page of the web: I noticed that the entries I posted here in CupAvenue have no dates - and I resent and protest against blogger templates for that. Anyhow, I would like to tell you guys that the dates between the previous post (entitled "One Down") and this recent post you are reading now is virtually close. The previous post "One Down" is supposedly dated August 25, while this one is dated September 2 - that's about a week after.

By the end of this entry you will notice an obvious difference seen between two posts. Both are in the opposite extremes. The post below is obviously a post of my typical rant - Sadness, Sadness, Sadness - since blogging has, for all these years, my avenue to express anguish, yet has also become my refuge.

And that's what I did last week. I blogged my sadness out. And just so you know, I drifted in utmost pain. I found no peace. I see hatred more than love, and I felt more than just depressed. It was a depression that almost shook my life, and in our last weeks together i knew that i was treading on a road of uncertainty and distrust. I was treading on a road of failed expectations and endless exasperation and bitterness. And all these happened just weeks ago.

This post, in the other side of the spectrum, is an expression of, not just freedom, but happiness and full delight. Now i felt like taking that 360-degree turn. And this blog will serve a creamer and sugar to the bitter ingredients inside the cup of my present life.

Yes, I am happy. And you shouldn't be shocked if I tell you that someone makes me so happy. Yes, I know you guys will think that I am taking relationships as that of dress rehearsals, or one-night love affairs, or short-term gamitan. But may you not think that way... Ayaw pod! I should tell the whole world that I am in love with someone I have long been looking for, someone so different.

I don't expect much from this person, but as of this time, I can clearly see not just the sincerity that we have for each other, but the many commonalities we figured out of our selves as we conversed. Right now, we both know that we have found the missing piece of our lives. We both know that our attitudes and values, personality and character, even interests and skills are in one container - and this happened to me for the first time. We are partners, and i love thinking of the fact that we are not just partners in the edge of its name, but partners in its real essence. And this fact breeds a feeling of assurance to me. Though I acknowledge the fact that I never know what lies ahead.

I never know what happens next, more so about what might be the next bitter posts after this. It could be "One Down, Part two" and I'm afraid I might be posting the same title to it's Part 20 after a year. I might blog again and say that i have proven again that I am such a failure. But i never care. As long as i continually, by faith and love, take this challenge with the one I love. And now, I feel the sense of security for the first time.

I never felt this thankful and it feels like a miracle is happening to me. It's a miracle. But now I'm thinking, could a miracle happen to my blogger template posts' date dysfunction? Grrrr. That could be my next bitter post. =)