Entries for December, 2009

After all the righteous sermons
On how being happy
In anything you do
Will guarantee success

After each fall
I learned how to rise
And to do what I thought
Could bring me bliss

After getting almost everything
That I have ever wanted
I found myself
Wanting even more

Seeing all that I held
In such high esteem
Become my current path
My creative freedom as a career

Doing what I enjoy
In the leisure of words
To earn from what I loved
And valued beyond comparison

Beyond the things I do for myself
I realized today
That I don't know
What really makes me happy

For my once priceless words
Must now be gauged
Simplified to a tangible equivalence
Of checks, bills or coins

Posted by yabs on December 16, 2009 at 02:20 AM | 2 Feedback

At first I laughed at the thought of a reunion with my old batch mates from grade school. To me it was nothing more than words that would never materialize. I had no fond memories of grade school, nor did I care to re-live it through a reunion. All I remembered from the years 1988 to 1994 were people sticking gum on my hair, taking my snacks and bigger kids bullying me every chance they got. Why on earth would I want to revisit those days?

I saw old batch mates and read posts online about the first ever meeting. I politely said "yes" to those who invited me but I never really intended to attend. Yet on the day itself of our first ever meeting, I found myself bewildered by the urge to attend. I guess as a man of 28, I grew up blocking all these thoughts that I couldn't feel the pain from my days in grade school anymore. I smiled at the general idea simply for its comedic simile - A bunch of people of whom I know from my childhood years were gathering for a meeting at a place called "The Tree House". "Hmmm, A meeting at the tree house" I thought to myself. Solely focused on that sentence, it just doesn't sound too frightening anymore. For the first time, I found no reason to back-away. No triggers of memories long locked-up. No apprehensions of what might happen (or happen again).

Attending was the best decision I ever made. Our second meeting became a Christmas Party (when I jokingly said it during the meeting I didn't think anyone would agree). A fun and very heart warming tribute to the children we were between 88 & 94. Though the games have changed. The conversation topics raised to "PG" and "R" ratings. The faces weathered by years of maturity yet as elegant as fine wine. The old hierarchy of who's who long faded and blown away like dust. I did not see any bullies. I did not fear any approach. I felt no phantom bubblegum in my hair. All was well... All IS well. The fond memories I thought I never had from grade school came crashing down in a cascade of shared experiences, bridged by morsels of memories from those around me. Painted and completed upon a canvas 15-years in the making. As I browse through the photos I took, I noticed halfway that I was unconsciously humming the old school hymn. I felt so serene recounting memories of last night.

The reality of grade school life was no longer heavy. In truth there really were no bullies, no hierarchy and no fear. Just children. Kids being kids. A melting pot of various backgrounds and upbringings. Just as we all were back then, we are still children. At least in it's very essence. The youngest old-people, out for some fun. Finding a connection to the past "us" that led to who we are now; From boys and girls to men and women. From fun-loving kids to fun-cherishing adults. From old batch mates to older friends.

Posted by yabs on December 23, 2009 at 08:27 PM | Comments

Nothing less than a lonely day. Sipping coffee at a time when I’m supposed to be rejoicing with family. Tonight is a simple and a less than mildly depressing event. A broken leg, hot cup noodles and the silence of a house that was never a home. A singular word describes my current evening – Alone. Money matters separate me from family. Selfish intentions isolate me from blood. My presence at a reunion replaced by their desire for spring chicken. I mean good god, the only mode of transportation I have to join my family was taken from me so somebody can cook chicken.

Though I succeed at avoiding bitterness during the holidays, the feeling of sadness envelops me in each step I take. Slowly limping my way to the kitchen to check on my cup noodles knowing well that this is not how things are supposed to be. Yet here I am, at this exact moment… living in THIS moment. Three text messages saying “Merry Christmas!” as I politely reply the same with the knowledge of the inconsolable.  Then all my phone credits are spent further emphasizing my isolation.

My throat dries up and my knees buckle at each thought of past happy Christmas days. Christmas songs play and the air is filled with whimsy… but not for me. I decide to give my dogs a Christmas dinner from the 40 pesos I have in my pocket. Mediocrity seeps in but I smile at the sight of these animals wagging their tails at the sight of a warm meal. And I’d like to think, because of my presence.

The cold night air seems warm in comparison to the freezing atmosphere of loneliness.  With the television on and nothing good to watch, I kept surfing channel after channel. The sounds comfort me emotionally as if there was someone there. A trick done for dogs that worked wonders on me. At least temporarily.

Laughter echoing from the neighboring houses. Fireworks lighting the ebony sky like sparks from an ungrounded wire. Voices yelling their Christmas greetings and children running in the streets while others sing around a guitar player. At the street corner a roaring fire can be seen from this house that has become my glass cage. The fire rises and moves in waves mocking me with heat that I cannot feel. The cinders and smoke I can smell but not enjoy.

I retire to my room and wrap myself in a blanket as I rock myself to sleep to comfort my grieving soul. No amount of writing provides release. No photos provide inspiration. Today I saw no smiles. Today I walked alone around town despite my broken leg. Today I had nothing to drink, no decent meal to eat… Today I regret that I am still awake. Because today is my first Christmas alone.

Posted by yabs on December 25, 2009 at 04:25 AM | 1 Feedback

Here I stand again
Surrounded by the insanity
Of the mystical full moon
Rationalizing my exile
(from the "she's" of my life)

All in delusions
From whence I pressed my lips
Against the the dream
Of the soft warmth of yours

Until I am satisfied
with the the nothing
That I chose to make real
Within the confines of my mind

I open my mouth and utter
All the sweet words
I lock within my subconscious
Just so I can smile

Just so I can move on yet again
Away from fears and inadequacies
So here I am once again relieved
Set for another day distanced from emotion

Posted by yabs on December 30, 2009 at 10:08 PM | 2 Feedback
« 2009/10 · 2010/01 »