You struck fear in the thoughts of would-be students, but only in an effort to stir the mind and inspire the heart.

You imposed strict discipline within and around the four corners of the classroom, but only to prepare your children for the harsh realities of life that lay beyond graduation.

You pushed, shoved and forced your students to perform even when it meant doing away with sugarcoated pills and honey-glazed syringes.

Even when it started to hurt.

Even when it seemed unfair to some of us who failed to realize.

But you were the real deal.

You embodied everything a mentor should be: a motivator, mother, teacher and friend.

You made us proud to have been part of your system.

And deep inside, we do hope that we did you proud as well.

Thank you, Ma’am Julian. We shall meet again on the other side. Until then, you will remain fondly remembered, revered and loved.

Yours truly,

cTHiScience ∞

I just stood behind her.

Plastic bags filled with vegetables and what-not’s in tow, I followed her around as she sorted out clothes in one of those ukay-ukay stores in the market.

My knees were starting to fail. My Nikes weren’t doing their job. My arms feel as if they’ve gained an inch or two in length.

It was like revisiting elementary school. Just for biting down on a cracker in class, I was made to stand in a corner for the rest of the period. That was for the first offense. For the second offense, you’d have to squat on the floor. For the third? I don’t know. I never got past the second. Although I pretty much think the third penalty would be something like this.

I grunted as I adjusted the bags to let some blood flow to my fingers.

“Okay ka lang?” she asked with concern.

“Yep. Sige lang.” I replied with a smile.

“Sure?”

“Oo. I’m okay.”

Don’t get me wrong. She doesn’t let me carry her stuff if she can do so on her own. In fact, we even argue over who should carry what – which almost always ends with us splitting the cargo even.

“Daan din tayo sa Harrison…” she coyly suggested.

“Ha?”

“Sige, hintayin mo na lang ako dito...” She had one of those twinkles in her eye.

“Oo na, sige, halika na.”

She’s addictively sly.

We walk a good distance to Harrison Road where there’s another ukay store. Over and over again I ask myself, why don’t we go around stores first before going to the market? Then I realize: we don’t really plan days like this. It’s more of a “spontaneous-turn-of-events” that starts out as a regular trip to the market and ends as the Iron Man Challenge.

We live each day like this. Spontaneous. I live for days like this. Alive.

See, I don’t care where we go or what we do whenever we’re together. It’s the little things – things we normally take for granted – that matter. From making faces to make a baby in a bus laugh to enjoying a cup of free coffee, the little things form the foundation for the bigger ones; something like glue holding your shoes together.

This is what I learned: You don’t have to go all out every time. Just sit back and relax. The universe will unfold itself before you in God’s own sweet time. Be content with the thought that you are NOT in control of how the earth spins and there’s Someone up there Who is – and that He always has YOU in mind. It feels good to be on the driver’s seat most times, but it feels great if there’s someone who’s willing to switch with you. Don’t be too serious; life is too precious to be wasted on worrying about things we don’t have control over. Live your life one day at a time, giving due regard and preparation for the future. It will come whether you like it or not, but moments wasted worrying about it will be lost forever. Ask for seconds. Nobody can judge you for getting a second serving of something good. Love much and hate less. There’s nothing like waking up the next morning with a smile.

I’ll have to carry these bags a little longer. So what? It’s not like the world will be caving in if I don’t. After all, it’s not what I’m carrying that matters – it’s who I’m carrying them with. I find myself enjoying every minute spent walking around, following her through a crowd and standing by, watching as she beams with joy as she picks up a choice find.

“Oo, bagay mo. Ang cute n’yan.”

She smiles. And everything’s right with the universe again.

Hindi naman talaga ako manunulat. Minsan lang may mga naiisip ako na gusto ko maalala pagkatapos ng isang taon.

Sa wikang Tagalog ako nagsusulat. Oo, “Tagalog.” Hindi “Filipino.” Dahil isa akong Tagalog (Batanguenio eh!) at iyon ang tunay na naglalarawan sa aking pagkatao. Sa aking pagiging Tagalog, naging Pilipino ako. Hindi ko dinadaan sa aking citizenhip (‘censya na. Di ko alam ang Tagalog n’un eh.) ang pagiging tao ko kundi sa kung ano ang dugo ko. Naguguluhan ka ba? Ako rin.

Huli ako’ng sumulat bago ang Halalan ’10 (salamat, ABS-CBN). Bago iyon, isang taon yata ang lumipas (aba malay ko, hindi ko naman tiningnan ang huling entry bago ko inumpisahan ‘to) Kung hindi ako ginising ng mabuti kong kaibigang si Xet ay malamang puro status updates lang ang nagagawa ko sa Facebook hanggang ngayon.

Masarap din pala magsulat. Pwede mo sabihin ang lahat ng ideya mo, mga opinyon at saloobin mo – at walang epal na sisingit habang nagsasalita ka.

***

Nabuhay ako nang mag-isa. Masarap ang pakiramdam. Malaya. Dedesisyunan mo ang bawat galaw mo. Responsibilidad mo ang sarili mo. At sweldo mo ang bubuhay sa’yo. Kahit tapsilog ang bumuhay sa’kin ng dalawang linggo ayos lang; ako lang naman ang damay.

Yun nga. Ako lang. Malaya nga, mag-isa naman. At habang natitikman mo ang pait ng lipunan, mag-isa mo rin itong titiisin. At kahit na may Sun Cellular na mag-uugnay sa iyo at sa pamilya mo, ang puno’t dulo nito ay mag-isa ka pa ring uuwi.

***

Naka-“pause” pa rin ang buhay ko. Hindi kasi ako pinalad. Hindi ko alam kung bakit; “Huwag muna,” sabi siguro ni Lord.

Sa ngayon, hindi naman inatras ni Justice Carpio-Morales ang two-examiner rule. So 16 pa rin pala kayo. (Sa ‘kin lang, kahit 32 or 64 pa kayo, wala akong pakialam!) Nakakainis lang dahil kasama pa rin ang VAT sa coverage.

***

Ikinasal ang isa sa mga pinakamabuti kong kaibigan noong May 22, 2010. Dalawa na ang ikinasal sa barkada at *sana* babae naman ang susunod.

Parang mini-reunion ng barkada ang kasal. Kahit kulang kami, masaya pa rin. Kwentuhan, kulitan, asaran. Seryosohan.

Tumatanda na pala kami. Noong 1997 lang eh parang napakalaking isyu na ‘pag may ka-relasyon ka. Noong 2007, bawal muna mag-asawa dahil bata ka pa. Ngayon, parang sila pa ang nagtutulak sa ‘yo para magpakasal.

Sabi ko nga, seryosohan na. Pamilyahan na. Pero di tulad noon, hindi na ganoon kasimple ‘yun ngayon. Hindi ka na gagawa ng desisyon ayon sa “kilig” mo. Hindi ka na mamimili ng gusto mo ayon sa hitsura o ayon sa dikta ng barkada mo. Pag-iisipan mo rin ang katayuan nito sa buhay – trabaho, pamilya, ugali, relihiyon. Pag-iisipan mo na rin kung paano ninyo bubuhayin ang mga sarili ninyo. Po-problemahin mo kung ilang anak ang gusto mo at kung saan kayo titira, kung gaano kalaki ang bahay at kung ilang kwarto’t banyo ang mayroon dito. Dedesisyunan ninyo kung kukuha ba kayo ng yaya o hihiling na magulang ang tumayong tagapangalaga.

Magulo. Pero nakakakilig pa rin.

***

Baka mapadalas na ang pagsulat ko. Siguro lang.

Kritiko ako. Mahirap paniwalain. Mahirap utuin. Matigas ang ulo. Pero karaniwang tao rin ako. Nanunuod ng Naruto. Nagu-update ng FB. Kumakain ng balut.

Pero mapili ako. Lalo na sa kaibigan. Sa panahon kasi ngayon, ang hirap magtiwala sa kung sinu-sino lang. Sa mga malapit sa akin ngayon, alam ko na kaya ko silang pagkatiwalaan kapag nagka-gipitan. Alam ko na walang mag-iiwanan.

(Teka, unang una, hindi ako nangangampanya. Ngayon lang kasi ako pumili ng iboboto ko.)

Mula noon, si Noy at si Dick ang pinagpipilian kong iboto bilang Pangulo. Pero ngayong lumalapit na ang botohan, si Gordon ang napili ko.

Wala naman akong problema kay Noy. Mas pinagkakatiwalaan ko lang kasi si Dick. (At sa tingin ko mas kaya niyang patakbuhin ang Pilipinas kaysa sa iyo. Pasensiya ka na ha?)

Sa tingin ko ang pagpili ng Pangulo ay kaparehas ng pagpili ng kaibigan. Pareho natin silang pagkakatiwalaan. Pareho natin silang hihingan ng tulong sa problema. At pareho silang hahawak ng pera natin. Eventually.

Sa pagpili ng kaibigan, gusto ko yung diretso. Kung may ginawang mali, gusto kong masabihan. Kung may dapat gawin, ayoko ng paligoy-ligoy. Kung may problema, gusto ko agad matugunan. Hindi ako takot mapaiyak kung iyon ang kailangan para matuto ako. “Straightforward,” ika nga. Ayoko ng maraming palusot kaya hindi magawa ang solusyon. Gusto ko ng pinuno, hindi pulitiko. (Bilib nga rin ako kay Bayani sa nagawa niya sa Metro Manila. Nasa Top-3 siya sa VP list ko.)

Gusto ko sa kaibigan yung totoo. Kung may sinabing gagawin, maniniwala ako dahil nakita kong nagawa na ito. Hindi yung magbibigay ng sari-saring pangako para lang matuwa ako. Mahirap kasi ako paniwalain lalo na’t ang daming oportunidad ang lumipas. Kaya kung hindi nagawa noon, wala akong dahilan para maniwalang magagawa ito ngayon.

Gusto ko ng kaibigang walang tinatago. Wala akong pakialam kung may mga natulungan kung mayroon din namang sinaktan. Wala akong pakialam kung sikat kung maraming namang pinagnakawan. Basta, ayoko ng hambog. Period.

Gusto ko yung taong nakaapak sa lupa. Yung may pangakong realistic. Practical. Posible. Yung kayang abutin ng IQ ko. Yun kasi ang kayang tuparin. Hindi tulad ng mga pangakong tila galing sa fantaserye. Sayang lang ang panahon sa paghihintay sa bola. Hindi kasi ganoon ka-simple yun. Gusto ko yung may planong pangmatagalan, hindi yung panandaliang solusyon lang. Kumbaga, hindi magkasing-sarap ang seafood at instant seafood noodles. Dig?

Gusto ko yung may credibilidad. Kayang patunayan ng mga kaibigan ko na ayaw ko sa mga babaero at mga nanloloko ng kapwa; mapa-relasyon man o ano pa. Pero ‘pag pinagbayaran na ang kalokohan noon, ayos lang sa’kin. (Yun nga lang kung hanggang ngayon eh ipipilit parin na inosente at mala-anghel ka, lalayo ako sa’yo. Hindi ako ang klaseng taong nagpapa-uto.) Oo, mahirap malaman kung sino ang nagsasabi ng totoo. Pero hindi naman mahirap tingnan ang mga nagawa na sa nakaraan. Iyon ang basehan ko.

Gusto ko ang taong nirerespeto ako bilang tao. Hindi yung ginagawa akong tanga sa lahat ng pasikat at pa-porma. Hindi ako ganoon kababaw para matuwa lang sa mga sayaw at kanta sa entablado.

At ang pinakagusto ko ay ang may respeto sa kapwa. Yung hindi naninira ng iba, lalo na ‘pag katunggali. Ano ‘to, elementary? Kung gusto ko ba sumama sa ibang kaibigan eh hindi tayo bati? Sabi nga sa amin, “Patunayan mo ang sinasabi mo sa sarili mong lakas, at huwag sa kahinaan ng katunggali mo.” Ayaw ko sa taong kung manira sa kapwa eh daig pa ang kabit ng mayor sa beerhouse.

Hindi ko sinasabing santo si Dick Gordon. Ang sinasabi ko ay kaya ko siyang pagkatiwalaan. Diretso, totoo, walang tinatago, realistic, may credibilidad at may respeto. Siya ang tipong gusto ko maging pinuno.

Oo, iisa lang ang boto ko. Pero alam kong pagkatapos ko bumoto, makakatulog ako ng mahimbing. Ayoko na kasing napapahiya sa mundo.

Bow.

Nakahanap ako ng paraan para kumita ng pera.

Mag i-introduce ako ng produkto sa mercado – kahit ano’ng produkto – at tatawagin ko ito’ng “BRAND X”.

Kapag may mga advertisements na ikukumpara ang kanilang mga produkto sa BRAND X, e.g. NIDO Full Cream Milk vs. BRAND X, idedemanda ko sila for unfair competition and damages. Habang tumatagal, ie-expand ko ang production ko para sa 25 pa na produkto: Brands A-Z. Humanda kayo.

What’s with us Pinoys and love teams?

Nakakita lang ng artistang babae na may kausap na artistang lalaki, gagawan na ng intriga. (HEADLINE: Mr. Actor, may pag-asa nga ba sa puso ni Ms. Actress?) Kapag may anak ang dalawang Pinoy couples, at nagkataon naman na lalaki at babae ang mga anak nila (respectively), palaging ico-consider na magkakatuluyan ang dalawa. Kawawang mga bata.

We Pinoys have the constant need to reaffirm our identity to the world over and over again. Kapag may foreign celebrity na bumisita dito sa Pilipinas, ang mga palaging tinatanong eh, “How do you find the Philippines?”, “Do you like it here in the Philippines?”, “How do you find the Filipino people?”, “Would you like to make a movie in the Philippines?” at ang pinaka-kilig na tanong, “Would you consider marrying / dating a Filipino?” (with reference to the previous topic, re: love teams). Siyempre dapat palaging positive ang sagot niya kasi kung hindi eh kukuyugin siya ng taong bayan at idedeclare siyang persona non grata. Automatically, galit na tayo sa bansang pinanggalingan niya at magiging political issue ito. Magrarally ang mga aktibista. Siyempre may papapel na senador. Tapos mage-enact ang Congress ng batas ukol dito.

Mukhang obsessed pa rin ang mga Pilipino sa pagpasok sa Guinness Book of Records. Magtitipon-tipon ang isanlibong nangungulangot para matanggap ang titulong “Highest number of nose pickers ever assembled in the world”.

Masyado rin possessive ang Pinoy. Kapag may isang sikat na celebrity na may ginawang kababalaghan (read: accomplishment), at kahit na .025% lang ang Filipino blood nito, aangkinin na natin, iimbitahin sa Pilipinas, ipaparada sa Malacanang at bibigyan ng award. Usually bibigyan pa ng movie opportunity tapos magiging napakalaking problema sa showbiz world kung sino ang makakatambal niya. (Swerte ni Nicole, si Manny ang leading-man niya). Kung malaki ang possibility na sumikat ito, magrerelease pa ito ng album na magpa-platinum in a few weeks’ time. Mas papansinin pa ang mga ito kaysa ang mga high school students na pumunta ng Iran para lumahok sa quiz bee habang iniiwasan ang mga nagliliparang mga bala.

Obsessed din ang Pilipino sa nutrients. Kulang na lang pati vetsin eh lagyan ng Vitamin A, Vitamin C, Vitamin B12 at Omega-5.

Lalo pang obsessed ang Pilipino sa camera. Kapag may nakatayong video camera ang ABS-CBN sa kalsada at nandoon ang reporter, gagawin talaga ng mga tao ang lahat para makita sa camera at kakaway pa. Kakaway pa rin ang mga ito kahit may nakabulagtang patay sa kalsada o nasusunog ang mga bahay sa likod. Tapos magtetext ang mga ito, sasabihin sa kaibigan nila, “pare! Nood ka XXX sa sabado, makikita mo ako!” (Guilty.)

Kawawa din ang mga artista dito. Madapa ka lang sa mall eh nasa headline na ng diyaryo at sa TV ang pangalan mo. Tapos kapag hindi mo pinansin ang isang artista sa isang public function, conclusive presumption agad na may away kayo. Tapos matutuklasan na lang ng bayan na sinulot mo pala yung GF nung isa noong 1998.

Ang hirap bumuo ng sariling identity ang mga starting Pinoy artists. Palagi tayong may “Josh Groban of the Philippines”, “Pussycat Dolls of the Philippines”, at kung anu-ano pang “…of the Philippines”. Hindi ka kikilalanin kapag hindi mo ibinase sa pangalan ng iba ang pangalan mo.

Philippine telenovelas are classics. If they are not based on foreign soaps or sitcoms, they are painfully predictable. When the US comes up with a new superhero gig, expect Philippine media to come up with a “Filipino version”.

Ang pinaka-common na plot ng telenovela ay:

1. Dalawang babae / lalaki, pinag-aawayan ang isang lalaki / babae.
2. Palaging magkaaway sa umpisa yung love team or yung dalawang main characters.
3. Usually mayaman sila. Kung hindi, mahirap ang isa. Basta palaging may isang mayaman.
4. Kahit 15 years old lang yung star, basta bida, may sariling kotse yan.
5. Palaging may nagwa-walk out.
6. Kung may “twist” daw sa plot, at kung grabeng pagmamalaki ang ginawa ng producers sa twist na ito, siguradong stupid yung twist.
7. Sa bandang huli, mamamatay ang tatay / nanay / kapatid / asawa / anak / alaga ng bida.
8. Tapos bigla na lang matutuklasan ng buhay pala yung namatay sa #7 at may amnesia na.

Basta may patalastas ng alak, palaging may naka-bikini. Yun lang.

Yung patalastas ng roof sealant (nakalimutan ko na yung brand) na palaging pinapakita noong laban ni Pacquiao at Hatton, may babaeng nagpapacute, ala-90’s R-Rated movie. The connection? Beats me.

Early morning news have the same content: bangaan sa EDSA, bumangga sa MMDA concrete barrier, sunog, baha, nag-amok, nangholdap, then a buttload of showbiz news. Good morning.

Oh yeah, when Barbara Streisand’s dog gets a tongue piercing, expect it to be on the evening news. And that’s part of the news that they allegedly gather “sa loob ng beinte-quatro oras… saan man… sa mundo.”

At bago sila magpaalam kapag tapos na ang news, ang haba ng speech nila bago magroll ang credits. (Ito ang mga balitang nakalap sa isang araw na pakikipagsapalaran… mga balitang angkop sa pang araw-araw na buhay… upang maging kaginha-ginhawa ang inyong panonood… mag-ingat sa pagsakay ng LRT… kami ang may hawak ng katotohanan… abangan bukas ang aming muling pagbabalita…blah blah blah…)

They got this and that with a rattle attack;
Testing, one, two... man, what you gonna do?
Bad news, misused, got too much to lose...
Gimme some truth, now whose side are we on?

Whatever you say;
Turn on the boob tube, I'm in the mood to obey;
So lead me astray... and by the way now;
Where'd all the good people go?

Love is like bird poop. It hits you when you when you least expect it.

The usual thing that you hear is about someone trying to decide when it is time to let go. But the more important question that must be considered is that, when is it the right time to hold on?

Wanting to stop loving someone is like flushing a toilet. No matter how many times you flush it down, something always manages to stay behind.

These days, people are more concerned with giving up than holding on. Relationships fail. Marriages fall apart. Children stray away from their families. It’s because giving up is much easier to do and no one will actually blame you for letting go. It’s just like diarrhea. Everybody sees how bad it is – but no one would really blame you for it. But the issue still stays – like the stain and the stink that sticks on your behind when you go in public.

Holding on takes more courage than you know. Holding on means that you are willing to move forward despite the things you’ve gone through.

Holding on is like driving a beat up Oldsmobile. It may die down on you at times, but it’s all you got to get you home.

Loving out of convenience is never right. You don’t love someone just because it makes you feel good. You don’t commit to someone just because you get the better end of the deal. You love for the purpose of making another feel good – giving them the better end of the deal. When you love, you give yourself without expecting anything in return.

Jealousy is like a shower room. Someone always complains when someone else has a bigger set.

Not that size matters, that's off the subject. Jealousy is basically 90% selfishness. I say 90% because I still believe that there is a justifiable reason for that remaining 10%. Although feeling overwhelmed by the not-so-jolly-green-giant is quite normal, there comes a time when it spirals out of control and that you should pull the plug on it - if you can find it. It's perfectly fine to feel jealous when some other guy sends your girl flowers. Heck, it's normal to feel jealous when your man remembers your best friend's birthday and forgets yours. But when jealousy pops in its big, green, ugly head whenever your man (or woman) mentions a girl name, then there's definitely something wrong with this picture. When you become this jealous, you've reached a point where you want your partner to conform to a certain standard that suits your convenience. This jealousy has long ceased to be righteous, if this is the case. This, my friend, ceases to be jealousy. It evolves entirely into selfishness.

Loving is like giving a liver transplant. You give a part of yourself to make someone else feel good.

So does that mean that you just keep on giving without expecting anything in return?

Heck no.

We are incapable of giving perfect, selfless love. In the entire course of history, God was the only One Who was capable of doing that. What we can do, on the other hand, is that which is simply close to being perfect.

When you give, don’t expect something in return. When you are reciprocated, be grateful. If not, don’t be bitter. This is the only principle you should remember in the process of loving someone. Look forward to reciprocation, but don’t expect it. What’s the difference, you ask?

Looking forward to reciprocation is like a girl excited to get married.

Expecting reciprocation is like a girl going all out to buy the dress.

The difference between looking forward to reciprocation and expecting it is how your emotions will be whether or not reciprocation arrives. Whether or not your man (or woman) appreciates, affirms or reciprocates your feelings is of no consequence – you love that person nonetheless. That is the selfless, unconditional love that we are capable of giving.

But of course, there is a time when you should go on and replace your toilet when it refuses to flush everything down.

In this case, flushing isn’t the problem – the toilet is.

There will always come a time when you should stop because you’re already starting to look like some donkey missing his (or her) zebra.

You must also know how to tell when reciprocation or affirmation will arrive. And by all that is right in this world, you should stop when there is an obvious indication of a lack of reciprocity or affirmation. This is obvious when your woman (or man), despite everything you’ve done, still gives all her attention to everyone else around her – except you. This is obvious when your man (or woman) is a completely different person with you than with others – and it turns out after all that he (or she) is an entirely better person when with them.

When this time comes, then it’s time to let go. Bring on the baby wipes.

Ang daming taong naghahanap ng pag-ibig, samantalang ang dami ng mga taong nagtatapon nito.

Ang daming taong handang ibigay ang lahat para sa iyo, samantalang ang taong mahal mo, ni laway hindi kayang isuko para sa iyo.

Welcome back to puberty.

Happy February!