Persephone

The rains came on May’s last day, PAGASA confirmed it too, I heard on the radio. Not that it wasn’t expected, as it has been drizzling almost every afternoon now. Still, the demise of summer is something not to be taken lightly, after all, the arrival of the rains portend the season of sporadic sun and 6 months of gray, overcast skies. So on one of these days, I will fill my cup with good wine and drink to the change of seasons. I will wait for you, sun, 'till you come back on your merry chariot again.

A Cat's Eulogy

He was carelessly tied to a barbeque stand in the midst of one of those fierce monsoons that usually hit our country midyear. The rope was tied so tight, he can barely move his neck, but meow he did, and this, he did with all his little cat heart. This was how my sister found him, soaking wet and freezing, barely able to stand, as he was just a wee kitten –how could anyone be so cruel as to subject such a small, unsuspecting creature to such a horrid, heartless condition? So my sister took him, cut his rope and wrapped him with her jacket, bundled him into her bag and brought him home.

When Oliver arrived at our house, he was a scrawny, smelly thing, barely out of drinking from his catmom’s tit. He had such large eyes for his diminutive body that they were the only features that were prevalent in his half-starved state, that and his protruding ribs. It was obvious that he wasn’t fed much and coupled with almost freezing to death; he looked like he wouldn’t make it, but we took him in anyway. However, despite and inspite of being in such a sorry state, upon arriving at our house, he looked about with such wonder with his large cat- stare that it was difficult to believe he didn’t have it in him to get better – bear in mind that this was a kitten who called attention to himself by mewling as loud as he can, through the howling winds of a Baguio Monsoon (if you’ve ever experienced typhoon season in Baguio, you’d know what I am talking about).

Oliver grew up to be a *excuse the cliché* very good cat. He was sweet and always liked being carried around and petted, unlike some of our other cats who preferred to be left alone. He wasn’t a choosy eater, and luckily, he wasn’t prone to disease either. In short, he was a perfect cat. I guess it was because we loved and showered him with so much attention that he flourished in his new surroundings. His coat was silky and shiny, and believe it or not, he grew to be the size of a small dog (which is actually big for a cat). His best feature really were his eyes, they were large green and lined with black that one could almost suspect he (and a cat at that!) applied eyeliner everyday (“catliner”, what a concept!). My younger sister’s classmates would always gasp in surprise when what they thought of as a stuffed toy would suddenly move and rub against their feet, asking in his cat-way to be carried and petted.

When I moved to Manila, Oliver would always be one of the reasons I’d look forward going home to. Whenever I’d step inside the gate, he’d always come to my arms, like I’ve never even left.

This is the first Christmas we’re going to spend at home without Oliver sitting on our sofa. Recently, he was diagnosed with cancer. Yes, cats get cancer too. It started to manifest as a little wound on his nose, nothing to be worried about initially. Cats get wounds all the time – especially if they were male and weren’t spayed, they’d have “alpha fights” and in a few days, the wound would scab over and heal. When the wound didn’t show signs of the usual healing, my older sister went to the vet and got some antibiotics so we could medicate him even from home. However, Oliver’s wound didn’t get better. Instead, it got worse. My sisters and I all live away from home so we had to hear of Oliver’s condition from our parents. The antibiotics weren’t doing anything to improve Oliver’s condition. Finally, Mom and Dad brought him to the vet and our worst fears were confirmed. There was a tumor growing on Oliver’s head and it got so bad that his eyes, throat and whole face were already affected. He couldn’t even eat solids anymore. So we had to make a difficult decision. Oliver was in so much pain, the only thing for him was to be put asleep. I wasn’t there when it happened. I heard Mom say it over the phone. I was on my way to the bank, and I suppose I looked like a total fool but I wasn’t able to hold back the tears. I/we, have lost a great, good friend who stayed with us for 8 wonderful years and I wouldn’t weep any less for him than I would for any of my human friends. He was a part of our family. Dad buried him behind our house; he wouldn’t leave him at the vet’s to be disposed of. I guess any pet owner could relate. Our pets are more than just animals – they are our childhood, they are we, sans all the complexities it takes to be human - our simple joys and the shoulders offered anytime to be cried on. They are our music, our bossom buddies. They are our prayers to God and the answers as well. They are our pets, but somehow, they are more than that.

I know Oliver led a good life. We gave him the best we could. Somehow I know he’s in a better place now but that doesn’t stop me from grieving. There’s just no getting over a good pet, harder still to let go of a great friend. We’ll miss you Oliver, goodbye.

Oh Shoot!

My colleagues (Bleps Dapo and Mark Ngo) and I wanted to start a creative endeavor outside of the usual in/output we shell out at work. So we started a project that we're hoping would not only satisfy our current creative lust, but will eventually become a much larger avenue for us to utilize our shared love for photography and art.

Hence, we started a project called "The FreeNup". We're calling it FREEnup because for now, we shoot prenups for free. We decided to shoot for free since we're still building our portfolio, that and we also needed initial blog content under our names. The only conditions are, couples we photograph for free should provide the accommodation, food and transportation during shoot days - not a bad deal, when you think about it.

Anyway, I just wanted to share our tumblr account and some sample shots, in case you guys can help us out in our little creative undertaking. :D

http://magshoota.tumblr.com/

Run

I’ve started running again. This time, I’m not running to impress somebody, I’m running because it’s become a sort of therapy. I’m badly in need of a diversion to get my mind off things.

I run because even though I’m not really sure where I want to go, I eventually get somewhere. I run because I want to get away from everything and everyone, most of all, myself. I want to leave my thoughts and all my neuroses behind, I want to be someone, anyone else, because at this point in life, being me is the farthest from what I want to be right now. Unlike hiding, the physical effort exerted to get my limbs moving, my heart beating, helps numb my brain - so my worries can dissipate and all the voices in my head are muted into a tolerable din. I run because i haven’t been doing anything for myself anymore. I don’t take photographs, I don’t draw, I don’t write songs, I don’t perform, I don’t make videos; I've become a drawn-out, colorless semblance of a person, I've become a zombie. It’s like I’ve lost a part of myself that I wasn’t even aware I had, until it all went away. Maybe running is like trying to find the “me” I have displaced. I run so I can feel the wind on my skin. I run to move. I run to feel alive.

Most of all, I do it because in this state of chaos, running is the only thing I have control over and that gives me a sense of relief. I control when I stop, I choose my direction, I know how much distance I could cover and in time, I’ll know both my limits and more importantly, the parameters I could challenge and jump over.

Maybe this won’t amount to anything, but right now, I am badly in need of something that will help me get over this current depression. Maybe running is just a manifestation of my being scared OR of dealing with being scared, I don’t really know nor care much anymore.

The Pessimist in me is insisting that running is my expression of moving away from all the things I am incapable of handling, but somehow, amidst all the discord in my head, I can still hear a tiny voice whispering that maybe, just maybe, it can also be the other way around. Maybe running is my way of facing all my fears and plunging into them in a headlong rush, with the awareness that at least I’m doing it MY way. I hope with all my heart that it's the latter.

ang hiling

sana minsan, kahit isang gabi lang, magagawan ng paraan ang mga imposible at di sila ganoon kahirap makamit, maranasan mo lang kung pano maging ako. sana maramdaman mo rin ito.

the eater

there's a monster inside me. it's growing and taking over. it hates laughter as it considers it noise. it mutters and complains all the time about everything. it's grumpy and does not relish change. it spends its time looking for flaws, even if there are none. it hates being contradicted and thinks of itself as the ultimate authority on just about anything.
i am dying, my sense of self being consumed by this vicious thing that is old age - and it doesn't look like i'm gonna get better. i don't want this to happen, my being so angry and isolated all the time. i don't want to be every party's spoilsport and resident downer.i want my youth back. i want what it feels like to be full of wonder and laughter and fun to come back. i want to remember how it is to be laidback and just simply be happy.
please, someone help me.

Huwag raw pero hindi naman ayaw.

hinahanap kita madalas pero alam ko naman kung nasaan ka.
mejo nakakapagod lang itong walang-humpay na pagnanasa.
kahit na alam ko, isang panig lang itong tulirong pag-ibig,
hindi naman ako umaasa na ito'y masuklian.

'Di ba, ganyan naman dapat talaga?

ang pag-ibig, kahit walang hinihinging kapalit,

ay nananatiling matatag at di nagsasawa.

gusto kita kahit di ka mapapasaakin.
nais kita kahit na walang pag-asa.

ang hirap naman ng mahumaling.

The thing with no name.

It's this great emptiness in my chest. a compulsion that buzzes in my head till i can not tell the difference between it and temptation.
It's an addiction that persists, as well as a high that I feed on.
It is a longing I can not ignore and one of these days, I'm afraid will be hard put to deny.

So this is how it feels like to miss you.