Ina, Anak

"I'm sorry mama,

I never meant to hurt you,

I never meant to make you cry,

but tonight I'm cleanin' out my closet..."

Parang gusto kong i-rap ngayun ang kantang yan ni Eminem. Feeling ko kasi, nadisappoint ko naman ang Nanay ko sa pinakabagong ginawa ko sa buhay ko. Oh well, paano ko nga ba uumpisahan at paano ko tatapusin....

Sa totoo lang, makaNanay ako mula pa noong maliit pa. Siya daw kasi ang kahawig ko. Tama nga naman, magtaka ako kung maging kamukha ko yung Nanay ng kapitbahay namin eh hindi ko naman kadugo yun. Sa aking paglaki, siya ang kasama ko sa lahat ng pagkakataon na dumudugo ang ilong ko, tuwing may sakit ako. Naalala ko tuloy, nung ako eh tinule sa ospital, kasama ko din siya. At halos parang nasasaktan din siya sa tuwing ngumingiwi ako sa sakit sa tuwing may tinatapyas na balat sa aking ...... Bata pa ako noon at hindi ko pa alam kung ano ang ibig sabihin ng katagang Mama's boy, basta ang alam ko mahal ako ng Nanay ko kaya niya ako sinasamahan sa kahit saan, kahit hanggang sa ako ay maging binata na.

Pero hindi naging sapat yun para ako eh maging open sa aking mga magulang. Ewan ko ba? Nasobrahan yata ako sa talino kaya habang lumalaki ako eh naniwala akong kaya kong pasanin ang daigdig na mag-isa. Close ako sa Nanay ko pero hindi ako nakapagsabi sa kanya ng aking mga problema, kahit isa kasi mahal ko siya. Ayokong dagdagan pa ang kanyang mga iniisip sa buhay kaya wala akong anumang sinabi sa kanya tungkol sa aking lovelife, tungkol sa aking pag-aaral, tungkol sa aking mga pangarap. Basta palagi kong pinapakita sa kanya na okay ako, magaling ako. Na ako si Superman.

Pero maging si Superman ay nasasaktan din. Pero di ba ang pangit isipin na ganun siya kasi marami ang umaasa sa kanya at marami ang nagtitiwala. Kaya naman sa aking paglaki, walang nakaalam ng aking mga pinagdaanan, maging ang Nanay ko. Itinago ko lahat sa dibdib ko ang bawat hinahakit ko sa mundo, lahat ng mga mabibigat na suliranin ay mag-isa at pinilit kong isalba. Ayokong siyang madisappoint, ayoko siyang biguin, ayoko siyang mawalan ang pag-asa kung makikita na akong mahina, marupok at natatalo.

Pero mapagbiro ang tadhana, mapanubok. Palagi sinusubok ang aking pagtitimpi, ang aking pang-unawa. Pilit kong kakayanin ang kahit ano lalo na kung nakasalalay dito ang buhay at pag-asa ng aking pamilya. Pero ako ay tao lang din, bumibigay, sumusuko, nasasaktan at nagdaramdam. Sa mga pagkakataong sadyang hindi ko na kaya ang isang bagay, bibitiw ako pero masakit at mabigat sa kalooban. Paano na si Nanay?

Alam kong hindi niya kayang kasamaan ako ng loob dahil ako'y naging mabuting anak sa kanya simula pa lang. Mauunawaan niya ako. Pero hindi maaaring tanggapin ko na lamang na ganun yun. Responsibilidad ko na ang maging mabuti at mapagbigay na anak. Masakit para sa akin na bigla na lamang akong magiging isang problema para sa ibang tao lalo na sa aking pamilya.

Maraming bagay na akong inilihim sa aking Nanay na hindi ko sinabi dahil na nga sa ayoko na rin siyang gambalain ng kalooban. Maging yung dahilan ng hindi ko pagsipot sa High School Graduation ko, kung bakit ako nagresign sa trabaho, kung bakit ako umalis ng Dubai at bumalik sa Pilipinas, kung bakit ako minsan umuwi na may malaking chikinini sa leeg, ang dahilan kung bakit galit ako sa mga kamag anak namin at marami pang iba ay hindi ko rin naibahagi sa kanya. Punong puno ang dibdib ko ng mga kwentong sanay ikakatuwa niya kung nasabi ko man lamang. Pero nag uumapaw din naman ang mga salaysay na puno ng hinanakit, sama ng loob at kawalan ng direksyon. Mga bagay na hindi ko nasabi.

At ngayun nga, isa na naman hakbang ang sigurado kong ikalulungkot niya ang aking ginawa. Hay, ayoko sanang malaman niya ito pero hindi ko alam kung posible. Pero gusto ko lang din sabihin na hindi naman ako sumusuko at patuloy pa rin lumalaban. Sana lang, sana naman, bago makarating sa kanya ang masamang balita eh nakakuha na ko ng mabuting kapalit.

My Kuya

“My kuya is turning 32 years old today and he is still single. When I left for Dubai last May, he was still looking for a job. I hope this blog would find him employed already so that he could at least pay for my family’s electric bill…..”

My Kuya is almost two years older than me, appearance wise, some say that I look older. Why not? After passing the CPA Board, I have been working myself to death in order to provide for all my family’s needs. Who wouldn’t aged dramatically with that? Having taken the responsibility to support my entire family financially, I have sidelined whatever it is to make myself glamorous while my Kuya enjoys his singleness and fondness for vanity. Thanks at least to my contagious smile that often conceal my hardships, the veins don’t show up obviously in my forehead.

My Kuya and I have nothing much in common. We could hardly pass for as real life brothers. He is way more blessed physically and as what they call it in Tagalog, guapo daw. Growing up together at a not so distant age gap, he was always the bida, always the escort, always receiving the compliments of how pretty he was. As for me, they only noticed my presence every after end of school year, during Recognition Program where I would always be awarded the First Honor.

During our childhood, I could not recall having any good times with him. It is only now I realized how sad it was. The person whom I was supposed to have played many street games during our younger years had never had the chance to do so. He had played with other kids though, and the only moments he had bonded with me was when we had a fight over something.

My Mother, Kuya, Myself and My Youngest Brother

Entered high school, he went to a public school while I enrolled in a private school by scholarship. He had been a victim of frat scam. He never really went to school, his daily allowance was being taken by those people and he just loitered the whole day in one part of the campus until the day’s over. His grading card was obviously falsified and from that we had learned what’s happening to him. He stopped from schooling after that. He gained trauma with school and said he didn’t want to go back anymore. Nonetheless, ha had never told my parents what really happened and my parents, just the same, had never bothered to ask the school’s authorities about it.

So I alone carried the hope for my family till he decided to go back to school. I was entering college then and he enrolled his first year in night high school. The he took an acceleration test and the following year he was on a regular fourth year. He was also smart I must say because he was able to finish high school in two years. I have never done that! With the help of one of our Auntie, he enrolled in college and incidentally took the same course as mine and in the same school. Initially I was completely turned off by his decision. Well, not his decision to go to college but to take the same degree and the same school as mine. I was not threatened, it was only that I was uncomfortable to be compared with him.

So It was another heartbreaking chapter in my life. I was the number one and most celebrated accounting student at that time, his classmates knew I was his brother but I have never told anyone I have a brother studying in the same department. All the times that he approached me to help him with his assignments, I have coldly declined. While I was teaching everyone how to get a good grade in accounting, I could not even do that to my own brother. I was still too fed up with my disgust over his decision to take up Accountancy when he could have taken a handful of other courses. I was selfish.

I finished my degree at the top of my class. What an accomplishment, but not as far as my brother was concerned. He persevered without my help and my assistance. He was trying to prove that he took the same course not because he could asked help from me but because, just the same, he wanted a degree so that he too, could be of help to our family. That was something I wasn’t able to realize soonest. I was overpowered by my personal feelings. I never realized that he was studying all the while he was working as a cook in a relative’s business, and that where he’s getting his tuition fees and everything.

Just as I thought he would be as tough as me, he stopped his college as he wasn’t getting any help from my Aunt and me. He also stopped cooking for my Aunt business and later he landed a cashiering job in a local bookstore. I knew it was quite uncomfortable for someone as good looking and smart like him to do the job but he did pursue it. From it he was able to buy his personal needs, never mind all other household expenditures which of course fell into my hands. I am not really familiar with all the other things he does in life but he is one charming, sometimes funny, sometimes narcissistic, sometimes sweet guy, well at least for some of my brothers and sisters. Sooner he quit his job.

When I was in the Philippines and every time I was in the house, we never had taken time to speak or talk casually, as with rest of my family. It was never them, it’s me. I was all too absorbed of being the bread winner that I thought there isn’t anything anymore to talk about. Kuya now has a Smart loading station but I am not pretty sure if it’s enough to afford his personal wants and needs.

My brother and I have never shared any thing in common, much less moments together. We were always ignoring each other for no reasons. He has become indifferent to me and vice versa. I must admit that though I had been more lucky enough to finish school and landed a better job, I sometimes I felt it so unfair that I have to carry all the burden. In should be inspired to work harder but seeing him doing his stuff like a care-free teenager, sometimes I felt so stretched and tight at the same time.

He’s turning 32 and still hasn’t married. Oh well what good a marriage would become if you ain’t got anything to sustain it. Before I left for Dubai for the second time, he was applying for some call center job. Last month, he asked me to send him money so that he could go to Manila to attend to some job interview. I hope something has materialized since then. That’s going to be a perfect gift for him.

Every time I will send money back home, I send thru him. During one of our chat in the internet, he mentioned his intention to go here and if I could help him get a job here in Dubai. Said I would try. I owe this guy so much. Never mention my clothes that he usually wear (we have basically the same arm’s length), the many times that I have taken him for granted when I should be on his side make me feel so guilty. He has never showed any insecurity though he knew I was more lucky and able. He had been a brother to me all along, but I am not sure if I had been a brother to him for all his worth.

I seldom call him Kuya because I seldom talk to him, neither he. I know he was just waiting for me to open up. Nonetheless I am proud of having a brother like him. Now that I am here in Dubai, he’s like the family man taking care of my parents and our other siblings. For his birthday, I just wish him happiness, contentment and fulfillment of whatever his heart desires.

Happy birthday Big Brother!

Tribulation of a Man

What shapes a rock that hardens a stone? The beating of the waves, the wind that slap its face, the rain that drowns its breath, the sun that dries up its will and all other elements that conspire to test its endurance, resilience and spirit. Same goes to man, the adversities that come our way make us better and stronger. With each trials we face, an opportunity to learn and shape our attitude is waiting. Torments and destitutions in life are not meant to bring us down but rather polish us from our weaknesses so that at the end of the day, we emerge as more resilient, supple and shielded.

No one is spared from getting uneasy sometimes, either you make your own afflictions or the people around you causing you some distress and privation. Nonetheless, to resolve and liberate oneself from mountains of quandary is a matter of personal disposition. People may throw opinions, they may insinuate, they may negate what you have in mind and discourage you, but only you yourself can make or break it. Its either you win or you lose, but it never stops there.

It is seldom that I share thoughts to people, or even if I do, it is mostly the happy ones that I impart. It’s a beautiful feeling to look back at all those times when you have almost drowned yourself with seemingly insurmountable problems and predicament and now here you are still standing and feeling better than ever. Now let me open some pages of my private book which relates to some of the incredible and heart breaking journeys in my humble life and how I have miraculously endure the pains and the agony:

POOR BOY
*Defense mode: I am still a poor guy up until now.
I have never been awkward to say that I came from a poor family. Such being my background, I grew up with simple needs. Thanked God if we would be able to eat a decent meal three times a day. We lived in a small house where we experienced waterfalls on rainy days. The only electrical devise we had inside the house was the fluorescent lamp. Going to school was uninspiring, walking to and from the house while eating a corn chips bought with my peso baon. I had no shoes, no fancy clothes, no adornment. My father’s income as a company driver was just enough for our basic needs, but I have never envied somebody else who had more of what we were lacking from. Most often, when out of way expenses had to be paid, mother would always borrowed from neighbors. We had lived such simple life where my father had to work for what we would have to eat for the day. Looking back, I couldn’t believe that after such an unimaginable days living in paucity, we have at least improved in some ways like we had built a new house and just being able to buy things aside from what we need.

BRAIN IS NOT ENOUGH
What good is a mind if you’re not gonna use it? But if you use it alone to battle your dreams, chances are, it wouldn’t take you there. When I entered high school, I felt the most pressing and depressing times of my life. I thought I was armed enough to fulfill my dreams but I was wrong. The mind is willing, but flesh is weak. Yeah, I could be the brightest among the students, but that wasn’t all that mattered. It’s not just what you knew, but whom you knew. Sadly I couldn’t afford to good at both. During that four years of study, I had silently wept many a sleepless nights. I had almost given up. I had problems with financial. I couldn’t play it fairly with rest of the class when it comes to project, need to have this, this to buy this book, need to attend this and so on.

But I have not told anyone about what was going on, not even to my parents. I didn’t want to lend some more to their burden, so I just kept it inside my heart. I alone cried when it’s no longer bearable, I begun to feel my insecurities. I begun to question why I needed to go through this. I had skipped classes and there was this one subject that I had not attended the whole year, Technology and Home Economics, because I wasn’t really good in electronics/electricity and the various project’s cost was killing me. Months before graduation, my adviser talked to me as she had learned that I wasn’t attending the class in months, I told her my problems in tears and told her that I just couldn’t pursue because I had no money to comply with the requirements of various projects. It was one moment where I had cried profusely, suddenly someone understood and sympathized my situation. She then talked to the instructor to give me at least a passing grade otherwise I won’t be able to march in the ceremony. Graduation came, I indeed hadn’t march in the ceremony, for some other reasons that bequeathed me only the fifth spot on the honorable mention list. No one had knew about this not until now.

EARLY SIGN
I have always been told, and my proud admission, that I have an attitude problem. You might think I have started exhibiting such a character when I became conscious that I was a force to reckon, but nope, since kid, I had already manifested signs that I would be a little uneasy to get along with. That’s because I am not used to seeing and being with people. In as much as many are displeased with my behavior, I also did feel the same way disgruntled, why do I have to please people when I could bask warts and all in my reclusive territory.

I remember, when I was just less than ten, I would not eat for days and not talk whenever I was scolded by my mother. When I was in grade three, I was supposed to represent my school to a quiz show but I went home instead simply because I felt I wasn’t taken cared of. That’s the start of it. Since then, I have made record number of representations back-outs, interview walk outs, drastic resignation attempts, sudden disappearances from occasions and many times screwing up what’s supposed to be a jolly celebration. Many times I have already been made to feel how bad I was. I have accepted it anyway, it’s only that I am not sure if I can change and redeem a notorious soul right now. Just like a sturdy tree whose roots extend far wide below the ground, cutting just the visible part wouldn’t kill the tree after all. It takes time.

All About My Mother

This is not a late mother’s day tribute. I have written so many things about myself and my experiences, but nothing about the one true person who gave me my life, my mother. Guess this is already long overdue and in celebration of her coming birthday this 23rd of July, I am writing this to share with you my relationship with my mother and the many things I adore about her .

The most precious gift of all, life...

This could very well be one of the hardest subject that I would be talking about. Ironic, isn’t it? This is supposed to be easy because we all know our respective mothers by heart she having been involved in almost all of our activities since birth up to day we decide to live on our own. But where is the reluctance coming? I was born introvert. But nonetheless, I love my mother and I don’t have to tell it for her to know that I do. Actions speak louder than words.

She used to trim my hair, the hairdo is oftentimes, hideous and embarrasing..

Among all my siblings, I resembled more of my mother, her skin color, her fingernails, her eyes and her domestication. She’s simple, humble, amiable and pretty much contented with what she has, she’s not the grand type, she’s wise and practical. She and my father had a quick and cute love story but that’s another story to tell, this is just about her. We are eight in the family and though we have not been raised in a well-off setting, my mother has always instilled in us the essentials of positively oriented values and no self-serving attitudes. That’s one thing I admired and loved of her.

My mother loves us. But I would certainly say that among all her children, she loves me the most. And why not, since little, I have made her feel how it was to have the best son in the world, soft spoken, quiet, smart, industrious, obedient and respectful. I have never badmouthed my mother. I have never lied to her. I have never complained about anything to my mother, I knew from the start what she could afford to give us and I should never asked beyond what she’s capable of giving. I have not given her any headaches and heartaches. I have only shared to her all the good news while I have kept all the bad things, my sufferings, heartaches and frustrations to myself. I didn’t want to fail her that’s why. With all our problems and the possibilities that life could never be better, I just wanted to give her an assurance and hope that someday life would be as rewarding and better for all of us. I have made her believed that I was perfect.

Being the favorite, i love my mother so much that i don't want to fail her.

And so she had never asked. How is it going? How’s school? Are there any problems? Do you need anything? Are you ok? I have taken all the burdens and the feeling of so being so alone, so desolate, so wanting, so desperate and so on. That’s how I love her. I didn’t want her to feel that I am someone to worry about. That I am strong and almost, that I am not human, who never get tired, never get sick and never get hurt.

So she was happy with all my achievements from the very beginning. The honors and recognitions, the inherent creativity and the good boy character. I have separated myself from the outside world, sometimes even from her. But still, she’s my inspiration. All my grand plans are for her and for my family. I have even sacrificed my true love for the arts so that I could take a course that would give me a better paying job right after. When I graduated from college, after so many years of unseen hardships, she walked upstage for the first time to hand me my medal. She’s not used to doing that, during my elementary days, it was my father who always escorted me. This time, it was all her turn and I was happy for her, though a little part of me just couldn’t be tamed that at last It was finished and I did it all by myself. Bitter sweet , that was.

She deserves all the honor..

When I started working, I gave her half of my first salary ( she bought a rice cooker with that). When I worked with San Miguel Corp., everybody thought I have gone big time. So did she. The financial requirement has increased accordingly, but I have never complained and said it was too much. There were times it’s too much but as I always do, I made up for it, sometimes I would borrow from friends, used my credit cards or made adjustments with my own personal spending. I could never have the guts to say that it’s too much, that I couldn’t, that it’s killing me. Sometimes it made me cried to be so overburdened and torn to pieces, but at the end of the day, I realized that it wasn’t useless and vain after all. That’s what I have wanted anyway, to help.

All i have to give...

From small things to the big ones, I have provided for my family through my mother. I always gave her the money, for bills, groceries, school fees, loan repayments, house construction, store merchandise and every possible things that I could bring from where I would come from, bonuses, pasalubong, take outs, gifts etc. All the news, all the decisions I have made in life, she had known it first. When I passed the board exam, when I got a job, when I resigned from my job, when I would be going to work abroad, when I decided to go back to the Philippines, when I decided to go back to Dubai and when I finally got another job in Dubai. I believe she deserved to know it first before the others not only because she is my mother but because she’s my number fan and she prayed for me.

Mother knows best and she deserves to know it first..

She just know exactly how to take care of me, how to please me and not how to piss me off. She knows that I hate noisy children, that I dislike the Kapuso channel, that I terribly love saluyot and labong, that I disgust my brother-in-law and that I l enjoy watching movies. Whenever I would be sick, she’d always be there and so worried. She prepared all my clothes. When I was still in the Philippines, every time I would go to Manila on Mondays early mornings, she would always take me to the bus station and would only left once the bus left the terminal. She’s making sure that I get the bus right on time.

You taught me everything and everything you've given me . I'll always keep it inside. You're the driving force in my life ..

When I left for Dubai, I saw her cried in unbearable sadness. My mother took me to the bus station with my father, there she hugged me for the very first time in my life, oh well that’s as far as I can remember. It was so tight while she kept on telling me to take care of myself. when I got inside the bus, I took a seat near the window so that I they could still see me. She was looking at me like I was a befallen angel. She never took her eyes off me as tears incessantly fell down her eyes. I was trying not to look back, because the other passengers were looking. Said it’s funny. It’s annoying. But deep inside, it’s breaking my heart, too. When the bus started to stride forward, she waived her hands at me but I never waived back. She was looking at me crying her last tears goodbye, the bus got further away and I gave my last look at my mother. She was being embraced by my father as the bus went out of her sight. Ten minutes down the road, as I was taking a last look at city where I grew up, I realized that I was really leaving home. Unstoppably, my tears fell heavily at once, I was going to miss my mother.

"Ma, i'm a big boy now, ok? I'll be fine..."

When I returned from Dubai, she was happy to see me back. For a few months that I have stayed, nothing much has changed about her. She ‘s still understanding, hard working and very dependable. When I told her my plans of going back to Dubai, she seconded without questions. She made a loan from a bank with our land title as collateral. She hardly went outside but she did in order to secure the proceeds as early as possible. Now that I already got a job, I guarantee that I will be of help to her and to my family. With all the love and sacrifice she has made for me, who wouldn’t be inspired?

She was happy than sory to have me back home...

Me and my mother are bonded by an invisible ties which don’t need to be shown to people just to let them know that we ‘re okay. We may not be as expressive as others do but we know deep in our hearts how much we need and love each other. As long as I live, I will protect her and give her everything she needs, no matter what it takes. It’s my own way of showing her how thankful I am for giving me this life and for all the love and care she accorded me from the very first time I breathed in this cruel world.

Happy birthday, Mother! I Love You!

Unacceptable

It's probably the most horrible thing that has ever happened to my family. It's a bad dream that we hoped we could have easily recovered from. It's a sad luck I wished had never occurred. It was my sister's wedding, an unwanted and agonizing prelude to a disturbing family life. I am not trying to be mean and improperly concerned here; I am just out flowing the very source of some of my family's most heartbreaking ordeals.

My sister's wedding wasn’t something that we have embraced with open arms. Much to our detest, it has cause my mother gallons of tears since their engagement. During the wedding, we were barely represented. Why shouldn't we? It was her wedding, not ours. It was her man, not ours. When my sister met then guy for the first time, she went with him and she never came back home. We were the last to know that she's already runaway with someone we wished we've known. He was a total stranger and she was a total shame.

Before that unfortunate event, at least for us, my sister has already been a pain in the ass. She never finished schooling, that being the case, I assumed might have caused her to never dream big and be of help to my parents. She's always out of the house and when confronted, she would always talk down to my mother. She has given my mother enough heartaches. We could not stop her. Sometimes we wished she gets married if that's the only way to domesticate her. We have no idea that it would come sooner than we thought. We were unprepared.

My mother went hysterical the night that she did not come home. She aptly looked for her and called all her friends if they knew anything about her whereabouts. When news broke that she was seen in the guy's house in a nearby barangay, my mother rushed to them and convinced her to come back home. She's willing to accept her after all that has happened. But she wouldn't. She clung to her man as if they had known each other for the longest time. My mother was all cried out in pain and betrayal. Her daughter was marrying a guy we barely even know and I bet she doesn't know him enough as well. She might have gotten sore of my mother's constant lecturing. She was looking for an escape and she was probably blinded by the guy's words.

We would have been proud and happy if she's getting married to a decent guy, with stable job and a little pleasing personality. Unfortunately, there is nothing redeeming in the side of his character. His hideous, alcoholic and one jobless freak who depends upon his parents for all his needs. He comes from family of stubborn japayukis and mentally troubled clan. She was terribly blinded, by love? I don’t know for sure. Maybe the dark lights that characterized traditional barangay dance parties where they were supposed to have met.

After they got married, I could still hear my mother cried once in a while. She couldn’t contain her hurt in the same way that I couldn’t contain my hate. If there are people who felt bad about it, I was one of them. Not that I couldn’t accept that she has gotten married, what I could accept is the fact that she has tied the knots with someone who's so disrespectful. Someone whom I could not be a friend to. They rarely visited the house right after, thank God. One less mouth to feed, one less soul to worry.

Living their own separate lives, we thought would spare us of their usual feud. True enough, they have never bothered us of anything. Maybe they were trying to prove that they can survive a happy life even without our blessings. But everything changed when they bore their first child. Though my family's dislike for the couple hasn't completely died down, our love for the baby was absolutely devoid of any hatred and denial. We thought that his birth has nothing to do with how we deal with his parents. Gradually my family's not so pleasant relationship with the two has perished like a fading candle light, all because of the baby whose innocence has brought us to be humble and forgiving. Since then, they would always pay a visit to our house every weekend, all because my parents want to see and play with their first grandchild.

Father's Birthday

Two days ago, my Father celebrated his 64th birthday in a rare occasion where the whole family gathered including many relatives. There to celebrate were his brothers who share the same passion and love for drinking. So as early as 11 am, two tables were already emptying bottles of Colt45 in a tradition characterized by intoxicating laughs, endless story yelling and of course, loud videoke singing. A merienda and dinner was prepared for kids and other guests. It was like a reunion of some sort.

By midnight, all the tomadors and relatives have gone home, the videoke singing has stopped and the mess was just waiting to be cleaned up. Everything we have prepared was consumed as it was supposed to be. My Father was already sleeping comfortably. I wonder that if he's sleeping, he could be dreaming of having the happiest birthday his entire life.

Sorry 2008

If goodbye is the saddest word, then sorry is seems to be the hardest. To say sorry is easy, what is difficult is to mean it. If it takes a long time to find true friends and even a lifetime to find someone who'll stays besides us forever, it would take only a few minutes and even a few word to destroy it. Relationships are not founded so that it could be wasted in the end. This isn't what memories are made for. Surely the things we have shared is worth more that a heartfelt apology. Therefore, if it needs to say sorry for all our indifference, we should do it as much as we could and as many times as we should.

Time is always forward. If what we have after us are no circles but broken relationship, we are not actually living worthy lives. Instead of propagating, we are creating grudges and hate feelings. We are closing doors where new friends could be introduced. We are burning bridges where new acquaintances could walk through. We are building walls that stop communications. We will be remembered by the last things we do. If we hurt other people, we are moving on with guilt and leaving behind disconnected loops of wasted time and resources. If we don't value its essense, it's alright, it only means that we dont value our lives, or if we do, we are acting a little selfish and centered.

It is never late to say sorry. Ironing mistakes and patching up is always welcome. To do righteos things never goes out of style. The fact that it is human to err should make apologizing a little easy to do than harboring the ruthless pride. We should waste no time if we need to say sorry, life can't wait. We will be endlessly sorry if the person to whom we owe these words won't no longer be here to hear that things we want to say. It is not fair to assume that we will all the same length of stay here on earth, that's why we should day everything before it's too late.

Wounds heal in time just the same as hurt born out of miscommmunication, falling out of love, separation or from simple misunderstanding and from individual differences. Getting hurt is inevitable and so does giving an apology. It wouldn't be easy if we'll allow pride gets in the way but to regain the trust and friendship from saying a genuine sorry is in itself greater than all that money can buy to cast away guilt and solitude.

So always say sorry to those people that you have wronged to, remember that sometimes, what hurts aren't always the words that we said, but the words that we don't.

MY LIST
I wanna say sory to my Landlady i could not help her because i myself is helpless in that aspect that she wanted me to help her with. I couldn't even tell her that i am going back to Dubai coz she might think that i am escaping her and that i really dont want to help her.

I want to say sorry to rowell, he might have gotten offended when i turned down his offer to help me get back to Dubai. Truth is, i know he is busy right now and i just dont want to bother him. Sorry that i have expected too much without even thinking of the current situation. My considerate thought was pre empted by urgent desire and limited time.

Sorry to Alvin. I am not the type who bargains. ONce you did me wrong, i can forgive but not forget. Dont ever get late and dont make me wait. Waiting pisses me off the greatest. I could go back where we start and assume that we have never met.

I am sorry to all my friends who texted me but i didn't even reply. Sorry to those who just wanted to say hi, hello and how are you and yet i chose to hide, ignore and be invisible. I am just so down right now.

I am sorry to all the people who tried to reach out and know me but i have refused to open up. I choose my friends and not everybody can please me. Sorry for taking risks. Sorry for sharing your time and load. Sorry that i couldn't be the person you wished i could be.

Sorry to all kuya for all my indifference towards him, i just culdnt understand why at such an age he's still so complacent and irrelevant to my familys welfare. I couldnt help but to feel disgusted at times when i see him acting like a carefree teenager while i almost lose my head thinking of ways on how to make my family survive.

Sorry to sister, i just couldnt accept her husband. No matter what they do, they couldnt simply redeem all the hurt and pains that they have caused my family.

Sorry to my other brothers and sisters. I might have been hard to approach and distant but i just dont see in you any appreciation and love for all the things that i have done. I have not seen you read your books and do your homeworks. I have seen you voluntarily tend the store or at least be familiar with some household chores. It make s me feel so uninspired.

I am sorry to my parents for being so distant. Forgive me if i dont talk to often and spend time just like what a typical family does. I feel i am all too grown up for that. Sorry that i have kept my personal life away from you.

Finally, i want to say sorry to myself for letting lust took over my fragility and vulnerability. With all the problems that i am facing, sometimes i just want to forget and escape from reality.

The Grudge

A Japanese film that was given a Hollywood remake. It tells a story that when a person in grave sorrow dies, his spirit lingers waiting to avenge those who have caused his misery and pains. That was the film's gist. But that's not what this blog is all about. This is about my grudge, oh well, not really, maybe some slight upset and bitterness over what I have been through in life. My desperation and inspiration, wishes and misses, feelings and failures.

Like all other, I have my share of not so happy childhood, lots of it at the back of my mind. Those experiences that I don’t want to go back to. Those hate feelings that I have kept inside my chest for a very long time. I Guess I have been holding it up for so long that I feel its time to let go and move on. I can’t forever harbor my insecurities and resistance within. I should not wage a war to those who might have hurt me unconsciously one way or another.

I am what I am today because of what I was. I might not have been born as good looking as the rest of my family but I was given the gift of knowledge and arts but never did I consider it a blessing. I have never been closed to my relatives because I was not like them in appearance but I never tried to reach out. I have been a consistent first honor since grade school but nobody had showed any appreciation for my feat.

They used to go somewhere during summer – Baguio, Tagaytay, Pangasinan, there was no instance that I have ever been invited. During family gatherings and homecomings, they have never felt my presence, more so, my absence. I have finished schooling on mu own – with so much pain, with so much hurt. They thought all had gone well. Nobody had dared to ask because I have never showed any sign I was actually deteriorating inside.

Eventually I have become immune for being always taken for granted. I don’t blame anyone for all my frustrations. I was the one who expected for something that they were not obligated to do. I was the one who built walls and burned bridges. I was the one who loathed myself and conditioned my mind that people around me could never do anything good to me. I have created my own ghost and I have underestimated the capacity of others. Where it’s coming, not from out there.

Just the same, I don’t blame myself for all my indifference. During those times when my emotions’ supposed to have brought me down, I have found an inspiration to go on and move ahead believing that if I wouldn’t help myself, no one else would do. I have not taken it against anyone, as a curse or vengeance. Fact is, I have made all the goodness that I could possibly extract from it: motivation and encouragement, to never fail in the battle that I was fighting for.