The Eff on the Derck

That Dark Damp Basement Staircase Leads To Your Head

2009-03-22T09:58:50Z

"This is one tough baby to write, I don't even know if I am making things worse by bringing this out and God forbid pushing someone into the door. Yet it's a weekend, and even then all dances with Hypnos come with daybreak and just last a couple of hours at the most. Time has been spent with the muse too. Which nevertheless still made me unable to sleep. And here I find myself, with a sink full of dirty dishes, an unmade bed, a pot of stale coffee and cigarettes attempting to make sense of it all."

It all started I think about two and a half decades ago. I had thought I was playing under the blankets with an older female cousin, which somehow turned ugly. What she did to me felt good, but there was a stirring in me that said it was ugly at the same time. I remember softly crying as she reassured me that it was all "perfectly all right". That it was where the nanny soaped really well so that these could be done.

That incident occurred some more times after that, until one day I came home from playing, I saw her boarding one of our cars and the household driver loading all her things into it. She got sent to Granny in the province to be exiled.I learned about the reason a couple of months after that. I was on my way to pee when I chanced upon my mom talking to one of her sisters. Apparently she had "unnatural appetites". Since she was an orphan then, there had been no other place to take her except to Granny's.

I remember racing back to my bedroom, the urge forgotten, my mind racing and my face flushed with shame. Was that what I was now too? Unnatural?

*To be continued.....

Three Mornings of Solitude

2009-03-22T09:34:28Z

Three accounts. Policy Administration. Property Claims Processing. Commercial Claims Processing. Five Countries that include two Mandarin speaking nations. Sometimes it’s so freaking fast you barely hear yourself think.

Three days in a quiet secluded enclave of the islands. Surf. Sun. Sand. A quiet hotel. Shake stalls. Nipa coffee huts. Away from everything. I didn’t even bring my laptop, wi-fi access and did not open my phone.

This is what weekends are supposed to look like. Long ones since the pay is just really for four hours of work everyday. That’s what the contract says anyway.

I really have to get this balancing thing down. And guess what? I think I’m finally starting to learn.

Supersize Me Please!

2009-03-22T09:26:38Z

know, I know. Thirty three and the body starts slowing down, so I have to watch the LDL and Cholesterol and blood sugar.

I get that. But…. I get this too.

Dig the new Wendy’s Baconator. Three beef patties and a generous sprinkling of bacon to surefire clog up those arteries like gonk on an engine.

I did two extra laps of the jogging route to compensate for my unfaithfulness to the diet. Hell, who am I kidding? I didn’t.

Yummy!

Polish-ies and Prose-ehh-Diors

2009-02-09T16:03:52Z

I hate being mediocre. I am so scared I am. Oftentimes I end up botching things because I worry too much and kill the proverbial soup.

Very few people get me, and those that do need clarification. I am vague according to most folks and I scratch my head. I've been accused a lot of times of being "sagey". Whatever the hell that means.

I am dull. Yet am working on polishing myself. There are quite a number of folks who have stayed too to do it. I wonder what they get out of it.

I love to write. I do'n't give a rat's bee-hind anyway if you don't agree with what I write. I smirk at the thought of someone shaking their fists. It means they read everything. Ain't that dumb junior?

I love the good things in life. Both free and expensive. Acquired the taste. Like for muscles. (was that a pun or was in topographical error? tee hee)

I'd poison you and your family's brains given half the chance.

I am arrogant. But never malicious.

I put my foot in my mouth. And enjoy the communal embarassment it brings.

I like to pretend I'm stupid. Then hit you with a BAT. Which means I'm violent, not intelligent.

I contradict myself and my policies. Whenever occasion and vice applies.

I have three offers from firms right now for a higher post than what I currently have. Six figures. I've been an *ss most of the time so I guess I am a lackey donkey. (again, for the dambass, hint hint)

MRT Commuter Files – What’s up with the Mad Dash to the Turnstiles?

2009-01-24T07:16:13Z

At the cost of the pain of admission, both literal and figurative, allow me to say that I am a commuter. For now; as I have not bought a new car yet. There is this phenomenon that I’ve noticed since starting to take the MRT to and from work. As the train glides to a halt the collective human body starts to stiffen, coiling like a spring and then launches with ferocity as the doors open. Braveheart could not have found a better rabble to follow him to the charge.

It has been a cause for amusement for me at first and then wonderment, which has now turned to plain curiosity. More than once this week I’ve caught myself almost tapping the person in front of me to ask why this daily ritual occurs. I maybe missing a huge portion of my life by mot being a part of it and it galls me no end. I end up retracting my hand and heading to my cave, dejected and disappointed. So here I find myself writing what I cannot ask, and maybe if one of the runners read it, would be kind enough to answer.

Here are my guesses to why this ritual occurs:

· It is a daily patriotic gesture, like the current fad of the sun and stars tee. The runners are imitating the great Andres Bonifacio

· There is a secret contest, the winner being the most consistent top finisher. The MRT honchos view the surveillance tapes and decide the weekly, monthly and annual winners

· It is training to join The Amazing Race

· As a part of cost cutting due to the current economic conditions, the companies the runners work for have foregone toilets and/or running water and hence, everyone is running home to pee or crap

· People want to catch Arnold Clavio or Noli De Castro or whoever supposedly non-partisan newscaster is on

· Manny Pacquiao is the contestant for “Dell or Noodle” errs…. I mean “Deal or No Deal” and it’s on permanent re-run

· There is a slap happy telenovela on the telly that’s taking the country by storm

· The Philippine government has allowed porn on free telly from five in the afternoon to seven in the evening

· People have taken the phrase “rat race” too seriously

· The runners were not really listening when “RUSH HOUR” was explained in class

· The runners have incredibly wonderful spouses….bed bed bed baby

· The runners incredibly wonderful spouses are having a romp with the wonderful neighbor

· In the absence of career growth, the mad dash is to exorcise all that unused competitive juice

· The last one is a rotten egg?

So You Think You Can Manage People

2009-01-21T11:46:13Z

You find yourself angsty about getting leapfrogged or you crashed on the interview again. Or maybe you can't get to the next managerial level. Or maybe you haven't felt like you have reached the trough yet, and wonder why your team is collapsing around you. Regardless of what people say and how we all say we are individuals we all fall prey to certain factors, that are generalized and if used effectively can lay the gorundwork for a harmonious team. Or at least a team you got buy-in from. So let's see; what do you do with -

A. Subordinate who talks the talk yet has poor quality or has slipshod work (doesn't have to be an agent, could be an RTA,QA Sup, Ops Sup, RTA Sup, Line Manager whose work needs double checking).

B. Subordinate who likes to do extended hours, but it's because the work is not finished in the time frame that is acceptable.

C. Subordinate who always complains about having a lot to do, when the workload is partitioned and accountabilities defined. Then applies for the next level.

D. Subordinate who isn't meeting key results indicators but is a kiss-*ss

E. Subordinate who is clueless (e.g. it's alright to go on AUX or to leave your post indefinitely, you get paid anyway)

F. Subordinate who raises hell about pay and appraisals yet has been lagging behind and is undependable

G. Subordinate who is dependable but is unbelievably learning handicapped

H. Subordinate who cannot speak straight english, never mind having an accent

I. Subordinate who had been previously your go to person but now cannot stand the sight of you

REQUIESCAT IN PACE - Erwin Bercasio

2008-12-30T18:42:49Z

Around three years ago there was this gangly yet insanely cheerful gay guy that joined our inbound sales team. He was generally liked by the team and had forged friendships.

I left two years ago to join another start up team within the same company and we parted ways. The next time I saw him was early this year while I was smoking outside the lobby of one of the more known BPO's in the country. I had laughed when he asked if I was joining the firm and I reassured him that I thought this new company he was with was fine it was just not for me.

I'd bump into him occasionally and we'd smile and wave, we weren't really on speaking terms but he was always polite to a former superior which was heart warming. Then suddenly I didn't bump into him anymore.

I found out two weeks ago that he was in a coma. Yesterday that he went back to our maker. We weren't really close, I had never been invited to his birthday get together or he to mine, but we were cordial and he was a good person.

Taken too early. My condolences to your loved ones in this time of grief. May your soul rest in peace Wehn and say hi to heaven for us.

Enforce total ban on endosulfan in 2009, solon dares FPA - Yahoo! Philippines News

2008-12-30T18:24:29Z

Enforce total ban on endosulfan in 2009, solon dares FPA - Yahoo! Philippines News

Oh this is fun. Well I know that their father was a great man, which had led them to get hmm, elected after he joined our creator, but seriously they turned out to be irksome with all the blah that they had. Anyway we all know that Pinoys love drama and boy do these siblings know how to rattle the bars.

So two years to election year and we do have to keep the name fresh right? Although, come to think of it - would it not be really beneficial to go after the shipping lines that was at fault (undeclared cargo, didn't heed warnings, etc.) rather than go after a government agency just because you are not with the administration? The two companies who are allowed to use it are well, allowed. So no real issues there right? Makes you wonder what the motivations are doesn't it?

What I'm Running After

2008-12-25T17:17:00Z

Part of the quest for the lost talismans.

Hoping to buy it soon.

Coffee on the 25th

2008-12-25T17:15:29Z

So what's up? Everyone's, or most of everyone that is, may well be stone bleeding drunk or stuffed with food right now and in the middle of their after dinner cigars. Gaudy lights, merriment and laughter.

As usual with me, I find myself solitary which I like, as I've given my offspring time a couple of days ago and maybe some more time with the progenitor during the weekend. I told this person why I shunned making plans for these days and why I generally am a recluse after I've doled out the customary and obligatory gift giving. I will not expound on it here as it is too close to my heart to ever be said out aloud and we have to consider that what I said, I said to only one person ever.

I had made plans, and boy oh boy as I had expected, things fell apart What's new? Nothing. What's odd about it? Nothing as well. Why am I miffed? Because I hoped. Built around it, and canceled any plans the kids had made. To end up blogging at Starbuck's West Avenue was not in the plan at all. It makes me wonder sometimes why I even bother.

Anyway, in the spirit of it, a Merry Christmas to one and all. Here's to hoping you have your loved ones near and you have happiness in your hearts.

The Cusp Of Change

2008-09-08T16:05:42Z

Now I have a draft of a blog entry that I think I'm glad I did not post yet. I was mad at that time and was being my unpleasant bigot self. I actually enumerated all of the reasons why I wasn't "lesser". It's good that I held back. I was never lesser. Not the five unbroken generations of my family that folks take their hats off in the hometown whenever members of my clan pass them by. Not the ancestral home that stood when these testy folks that drew my ire were just toadstools and tenant farmers wishing the next generation could somehow get an elelmentary education. Wait I am going there again.

The items being: Yes I deliberately tore my life apart. Personally and professionally. Found out too that the world is full of judgmental bigot wannabees. Let me put it this way, at my poorest, I may have been still miles ahead. Funny thing, a person earns a penny and thinks it's a pound, gets an entry level officer position and thinks the world is conquered.

Here is the crux folks. I prove my worth to myself, not to anyone. I do not answer to you or anyone else except my maker. I write because I love to, I developed people as officers because I loved the look in their eyes when they start respecting themselves and learn to respect others too. I take long walks. I take long drive. I love having my passport marked. Because I do. Not because I need to fulfill some ardent urge to gain approval. As Amiel cleverly remarked one "eh, noveau rich".

Now I went back to the horse and rode it. Surprise surprise. So where does it lead us now? I let you sling and sling. I was levels apart when I took a rest and I was asked to "prove myself". So what do I get now? A plaque? Appreciation? Approval? What is that worth to me? Will it improve the quality of my life?

What do you do when you come across me again?

Wise folks hold their tongue. For all you know, the person you are cutting to the bone may have the ability to mess up things and just has learned that it doesn't do anything for him anymore. That being in the background lets him sleep better at night. That there is so much more than prestige, status, and wealth. That maybe he can say that because he had it, and still has it, only he doesn't want to go flaunting to give you your satisfaction since it's pointless. You don't count anyway. As I don't too.

In the end, if you can sleep at night and smile when you wake up then all is ok. What ever ruckus everyone outside does is irrelevant.

And in the end, the real friends say "I wish you well".

Stumped

2008-07-29T14:11:59Z

At the pain of being called a fraud, I'll put this in anyway.

I have six pages with me. Three stories and four album reviews. I was going to put them all in or at least what I could with what I have in my pocket worth of broadband time.

I ended laughing my bollocks off. Which I am still doing while I am laying this down, and without any intention of giving man birth to any of what I've made.

Oh f*ck this is so motherf*cking hilarious. I find myself so stumped and doubled over I am spliting in the seams.

What am I laughing at? Life. All i has thrown and it hasn't finished yet. What was it that Albert Mondiego had said? I think it's relevant at the moment; for the life of me I can't remember what it is. Tee hee.

From The Diary 07/08/2008

2008-07-26T16:17:58Z

Circuitous Events, The Hand Of Providence and The Guy Named Gerry

So there we were, at the cusp and bosom of yet another milestone. Eighths we call them for that is precisely what they are. Now I would really like to go all numerology on you but hey, the derck is a blogger however odoriferous the word may be.

Well the day had been going completely bonkers for me up to that point of the day. There were a couple of minute bright spots and that was that. The princess had gone through a pretty hellacious patch herself. A very big patch. Almost like a blanket. So the birthday card and the first letter in a decade were mailed to her-who-should-be-called-mom, the venerable office of crooked lawyers cleared m, and we were currently crossing the abbey road in the starting rain, bereft yet happy.

A voice pipes out from the multitude and I snap my head in its direction. There in the not too far off distance was one of the more interesting petite young woman I've known. She had someone with her, the long talked about him I was guessing. One of those alpha-males I've been told. We join them and after the hugs and light banter of hellos and introductions, find ourselves dragged to lunch at Gerry's.

The meal we got treated to was a hoot. That's putting it mildly. It never ceases to amaze me how good things have the potential to become infinitely better when shared. The food was great, the conversation albeit somewhat awkward was honest. If there was a curve where everyone relaxed, it was hard to tell. It was just the frankness and openness that maybe took things to where they went. Truth be told, it's been sometime since I was that loose around folks. Goodbyes were soon given, handshakes and hugs doled out. Damn cool for people who planned for happy meals. Providence rolled out way happy ones.

I don't mean to be prophetic here, but I just may have found Charlie Runkel. The "whadup Runkel?"

The Marce too.

Makes you stop and furrow your brows doesn't it?

Tick - Tock or Finger Tapping in the Waiting Room

2008-07-23T15:14:22Z

The paper bundle keeps getting higher and higher. I am starting to get blisters from all the writing I do. Pauper that I am though, am unable to get them sorted out yet. Or to get the thoughts across yet. There is time for all of it. I will come out in one piece. It shall all pass as all does. I will rebuild; I am rebuilding.

Having fun despite all of it. For the first time in a long time I feel I am alive and that there is a purpose for being here. I think I've reached something infinitely precious with my kids that I didn't really have before despite our closeness.

I dance and run in the rain again. This time without tears.

On House Inquiries, Tycoons, Conscience and the ability to sleep soundly

2008-07-07T18:43:46Z

Now I told myself I would not join the bandwagon. We grieve for the deaths, the senseless ones when that Sulpicio ship sank during the typhoon. We are outraged at the undeclared pesticides that would ruin livelihood and destroy nature if it ever leaked into the sea.

This will be short. F*ck everyone who is finger pointing now. Please be reminded that there may actually be a God when you die, He may not willingly accept the confession you did or the donation you gave to the church or the people that you helped because buddy, you reaped more from it.

It was teeth grinding how Hon Suarez and Fuentebella were grilling PAGASA officials on the news earlier. Need anyone be told that it is actually these comedians that pass the yearly government budget. If they really wanted to, why not appropriate their pork to it instead of grandstanding on the telly?

Everyone one knows we are pathetically antiquated technologically. We can't even defend our country from a school of fish if they wanted to attack. To hear someone say on the news something to the effect of "You sent it through SMS. Are you joking?" is damned sick. YOU are the one who is joking buddy. You and everyone else who keep calling inquiries that just waste the tax payers money. You know what you can really do, so why don't you just go do what you were voted for? Oh yeah right. Were you voted in at all? So much for public service ey? Pinoys always fall for the grandstanding. Bleh.

Now for the ship owner. Why don't we just be people and stand up to our accountabilities? Buddha on a spiked wheelchair you knew where the ship was going, where the typhoon was and sure as hell know what your ship contains. Or at least someone under you. I am a cruddy manager but even then I knew all that went on under me. I made it a point to. You mean to make us believe that no one knew? Really? Take it in the chin and say it's your fault. Everyone agreed to be bought off by 200,000 pesos anyway. Oh yeah, there may be class action suits.

Finally. For the regular juans out there like me. When are we going to put a stop to the cycle? When will we say enough to all of it? To crooked politicians who we allow to buy our votes, to a crippled justice system that strangles the under privileged, to businessmen that do not have an ounce of civic duty and accountability in their veins? To the cycle of greed and abuse? It stops when we say it does and when we do what it takes. Only then folks, only then. Or we could wait for Christ to return and let ourselves get raped until taht time comes.

Downtrodden

2008-07-02T18:31:42Z

Hmmm... News from the front. Second week of no carbs on the diet. Working out a lot. Have Collins, Desplechin and Marquez on the plate it seems.

Have a couple of stories and a hell of a lot of reviews for posting. Made me sure of this too.

I can't write at all with old school tools. My fingers and my psyche demand a keyboard. I have a lot of pages with me and I so do not feel like typing them back on the screen. One birthing process is enough.

Actually at a cafe. It feels so alien to go and work here. Meaning, to post my thoughts using this computer.

Life's a bitch aint it? Do I sound disjointed? Well I actually am. This feels so weird. I went here hoping to post some stuff, and now I find I can't do it.

Anyone with a broken down run down piece of crap pc that they don't want anymore? I'll take it. I'll take it even if it's a Pentium Plan. Pun intended. F*ck.

Morning Glory

2008-06-26T18:41:44Z

Hokay. So for anyone who ever cared to read the garbage I spew here, we all know that I had let my life explode to smithereens. Yes I did. I tore this page apart too and well, it hasnt been the same since. Now if there were queries if I have come to regret any of it, the answer is - NO.

Bumming right now, the vacation is well...wait....four more days to officially make it a month. Lost all of what folks said was important, and realized that all of it was superficial. None of it made any more sense to me, and I felt so tired about all of it. It held no meaning for me anymore. So what do you do then? I got up my desk, and walked away.

Been sleeping a lot and looking around. Haven't picked up a pen although I did dawdle. Ended up with a lot of incoherent phrases. So I didn't. No net no phones no nothing. Fall off the edge of the planet, and do it literally. Kept taking notes though, so if anyone thought I was spent, oh baby you should see the axe I keep sharp at the back of my door. I just don't want to go chopping just yet.

There are stories to be told, of here and there. Enough of the wandering soul. There is a tale to be told here, and I believe there will be a lot of hate when I start opening my mouth. Then again, I've made a lot of enemies and false friends too. Funny how people can be so strong when your back is turned to them. Oh yeah, please remember why you couldn't really go toe to toe with me, because well... I think I've turned nice. But I am still vengeful. Yeah nice. But not a saint.

Why am I resurfacing? There are a lot of tales. Of places. Of occurences. Of people. Of love. I am a writer first and foremost. I write and I blab. Now if you don't like me, have never or will never, here's what I tell you with a smile: "You may bite my brown hairy butt."

Now go on to the other more substantial bloggers out there. Shoo!

An Evening In The Dark Room Room Everyone Refers To As "Life"

2007-10-21T06:54:12Z

Monsoon Midmornings

By M.A. Martin

The Matt and Ivy Show

An Evening in the Dark Room Everyone refers to as “Life”

There was a small light on the nightstand that would not waver. It stood there, sure and steady against the expanse of darkness. I stretch and groan. Hurt is nothing new. This is but an extension of it. They say that a man is made or unmade by his choices. I hope there isn’t an ounce of truth to that, since I may be vying for the top seed in the bad choices and judgment department.

People oftentimes have the tendency to hold on when the carousel stops. They know it has, but acceptance is often more difficult, and denial the easier path to take. I should know, since I have been living with these kinds of pain for my whole life. Thee is a certain courage and clarity needed to go after real happiness, and a lot of us find it convenient to use pain, hurt, or instability and chaos (i.e.lack of order) as a shield. So as not to acknowledge the real challenge – fear. All encompassing fear.

So I changed courses twice today. Altered decisions I had made. The person I am waiting for is still not ready to live. Or to leave. For everything she had wrought in me, she only had lived vicariously through – as I found out with mind numbing certainty. She got left behind, and is tottering in indecision. Am I to remain in the shadows? Yes. I was to go and lay my cards so to speak. To ask point blank/ She felt it and knew. Then shut herself in. It was to be done in all of two minutes. I recoiled; not stung. Wary. Warned. Do I leave? No. Do I wait? Yes. I have been waiting for the better part of the decade anyway. Will she ever come around? I do not know. Are we soulmates? I think we are so God help me.

So back to the light on the nightstand. It seems steady and sure. Look a little closer and see that it flickers. Then it hits you, that Light is fighting with all its might, against the encroaching darkness that always threatens to engulf it. There is uncertainty in that light. There is doubt. There is fear. That the next wave or volley will be strong enough to kill the spark forever. That light hang on in desperate hope, not knowing the strength it draws from hope.

That light needs to know these truths: The strength is from hope. Buried and acknowledged. The wait has long been over. If that light but opens its eyes and looks dead center, there is another one in that dark room. One that heard its silent pleas across the darkness and fought blind to seek that one that sent it; one that understands and patiently waits; for the moment when that light finds the courage to open its eyes..

That light has not been solitary for sometime now. For where there was once one. There are now two.

to you and then some

2007-10-07T05:16:55Z

thanks for dropping by and reading my stuff. there are still a couple of posts in the pipeline including the six stories i was bragging about no end. i may post and may not. see there are some things i need to work on that have been put on the back burner and i realize they have to be taken cared of immediately.so i will not be around and i will miss the interaction very badly. plus i guess you were correct. this is going to be a battle with fate. there are more than a couple crawling out of the woodwork. so it will boil down to trust. ok? thanks. and for everyone, thanks for taking the time to read. i hope i didn't bore you to sleep most of the time.

Soundtracks

2007-10-07T05:08:55Z

Monsoon Midmornings By Michael Martin The Matt and Ivy Show Soundtracks It was thirty minutes to three in the morning. The rains had stopped hours ago, but the air was still damp with moisture and the asphalt roads were still soaked. The skies had opened up with full fury earlier in the evening causing horrible traffic jams and a couple or more accidents. I almost thought I would not be able to reach Ivy today. Time, fate and chance had granted a reprieve. I have been hugging her for the past five hours. The evening had been fine. We are both tortured souls to begin with, and laughter is not a daily luxury. Well laughter is easy. What I am talking about here is the laughter that comes when you eyes laugh as well. We both are the toast of the common circles we have. We drive people of the wall with mock meanness, idiosyncrasies, and our penchant for doing the unexpected. Which prevents most folks around us from looking at our eyes and seeing what’s there. Come to think of it, few take the time to. Conversation was sporadic, mainly from me needing a lot of shut-eye and feeling like whenever I am with her, I have just arrived from a very taxing journey. I was also feeling a bit awkward. Up to now, I haven’t really adjusted to having Ivy this close to me. We were sitting across each other, when I decided to break this fear. Although these would be another story, suffice to say that we ended up with her almost catatonic from a lengthy foot rub session. We had popped our head out about five minutes ago. The coast was clear, and the hunger pangs were becoming irresistible. We took the car out for a food run and went to one of Ivy’s favorite low cost haunts. The place was bustling considering the weather and we took our usual seats on the right side of the establishment. We were both famished and pigged out, talking animatedly while our mouths were full. We do not need the intricate social dances and masks when we’re together. Then suddenly she stops, mouth agape and eyes twinkling with mischief. My breath holds, expecting the worst. She stares at me, slowly forming a smile. I get what she’s driving at and lose my focus on her. The song! It was a sappy local song bout a granny telling her grand daughter she got screws loose because she’s in love with a guy who doesn’t look good and is poor to boot. I look back at her with questioning eyes, and she can’t help it anymore. She breaks out in gales of laughter, “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god! Honey she’s singing about you.” There was kindness in her eyes and mischief as well. “Honey you ought to have your hair cut. I didn’t notice it earlier, but you look like a pineapple.” I was smiling sheepishly, a bit embarrassed as we were attracting everyone’s attention. Her laughter dropped down to a wide grin as she fought to control herself, when the song got to the chorus again. She glanced at me, and couldn’t hold it, now with the “I’m so sorry honey!” mixed in between breaths. She rarely laughed this way, with her eyes lighting up the way it did. I may have fueled it with the way I looked, because every time she’d look at me, the peals would start again. We finally stood up and walked to the car, when another song came in, this one about a guy who kept running from the woman, only to go back begging on bended knees because she was the love of his life. I could hear her braying from inside the car as I proceeded to walk to my door on the other side. Oh brother, this was so damn mortifying. But honestly, if it was just to hear her laugh? It would be ok to dangle.

Dissembling

2007-10-04T11:06:50Z

Monsoon Midmornings By Michael Martin The Matt and Ivy Show Dissembling My inbox lit up. The number 1 highlighted, bold and italicized Yes mister, you have mail. I stare, breathless in anticipation. It’s a new day, and I am trying to get used to a new concept in my life. One day at a time. The premise is simple. You take what is given and you live in the moment. None of the planning and the worrying that goes with it. None of the mapping out of courses, of plans A through G. There was no other choice. If Ivy was to stay where she is, where we are, which is for all practical intents and purposes – in limbo. I had to learn to deal with it in this manner. We had no future. But we have the perpetuity of the present. There was nothing to be done about it anyway. We both have lives to lead, and we have built separate roads before meeting. In this lifetime. Yes. I say that with all certainty. In this lifetime. There has been this constant nagging feeling since I met her years ago. It slowly bubbled up to the surface of my consciousness. She seemed to pop up everywhere I turn. Be there by my side during the most trying of times, although I never told her about it. It made things bearable. When we had our first real talk, it was like talking to myself in a manner. It was easy. And I consider myself a mass of contradictions in the highest order. She had a way with me, of being able to simplify the most complicated of matters, and vice versa. From the look of it as well, I had the same effect on her. Although I was not arrogant enough to accept it and verbalize it, so it remained there hidden and unacknowledged. Until the dams broke the other day and altered the realities we lived in. I have a different Ivy with me now. She’s a freer one, unbound and unrestrained. I’ve felt a sense of calm too. All my searching is finally done. Everything else has fallen into place and the questions have been answered. So this is where it leads us, surprising as it is, she feels the same way as I do. Then we both end up with the “we can’t” which of course is the crux of it all. This is not the lifetime for it. There will be another, and I will be damned if I don’t find her. I found her now didn’t I? Despite the odds of it all. Four continents and twenty-eight years. She was right under my nose since a decade ago, and I missed her, when I had been free. Free to offer myself whole if she wanted me. I believe it was simply because we were not ready for each other then. There is a season for everything under the sun as the saying goes. It’s our time to find each other, but not the time to be with each other. We’ve made peace with whom we are. There is a sense of quiet finality to it, to what it will be or will have to be now. We are, but for reasons of how we built our lives, we cannot. On the other hand, there is no running away from it. Our roads lead to each other. So that’s why the great love stories are all tragedies. We hope when there is none. We are unbelievably elated and irrationally scared at the same time. The sureness of it all is frightening, and for one time in your life everything stands in sharp focus. You know, as sure as you are that there is a higher being. And you know that there is no way for both of you to be together. You try to fight it and follow what you know is right. Which makes it worse. Because you cannot bottle it up. You’re screwed either way. But if you’d ask if they would rather not have it to make the roller coaster go away, I think you know what the answer will be. No way. All this before I open my mail. I’ve been ruined by love. That’s what it is. This is the happiest I’ve ever been. The happiest I’ll ever be. Until tomorrow comes. Isn’t that right Ivy?

The Circle Closes (Ivy Speaks)

2007-10-04T07:00:35Z

Monsoon Midmornings (Ivy Speaks) By Michael Martin The Matt and Ivy Show The Circle Closes The few times that Matt and I actually spent together outside of the circle of people we normally go with, we spend it talking in ernest. The conversations are about where we are presently in life, about the people around us, about the sh*t heads who make our lives difficult, and all the things in between. Tonight its different. Tonight, as I sit across him on the veranda of this well hidden cafe, I found that for once, in all four years, we do not have anything at all to say to each other. Not that its uncomfortable, I think, I believe, that it will never come to that between me and Matt. But after I found him again, there seemed to be nothing more to say. It feels like everything has come into place for once. He's there in once piece and I am satisfied and that's it. He, on the other hand looks like he's having an internal battle once more. Matt is this stubborn guy who would never let anything just pass him by and go with the flow. With him, its always, "what if?" and "then what?" and " and then?". He looks way too far in the future and cooks up a worry storm along the way with it. I often remind him of a line in one of my favorite movies "You are so hell bent on making things work that you miss out on all the fun when they don't" I decide to take charge of the conversation because, quite frankly, we would just stare at each other if I don't. Matt seems intent on just sitting there and studying me so i guess I'd better go get into the heart of things. Hm. And I think i have just the right question to get him out of that stupor. "So you still can’t look at me huh, Matt?", I asked. Leaning forward and putting the my elbows on the table as if making a point. I guess that got my point across coz he looked at me like I doused cold water on him. "you can't huh?" I asked again and found the look on his face too funny. I just had to laugh. He shakes his head, as if amused that I had the balls to ask that question. He took a deep breath and same time as it started to rain, he releases a torrent of emotion I never really thought was bottled inside for the longest time. "You know why? You’re within sight and my whole universe turns upside down. You’re this close and all I can think of is shoving this table away and taking you in my arms to kiss you. I look into your eyes and I get overwhelmed by how heartbreakingly beautiful you are.It tears me apart, you know? I tried to stay away the past year! I did everything I could to forget you. I moved jobs, uprooted myself and to what merit? My world goes quiet for a second and you re the first thing that pops into my head. After all my efforts, one message from you and everything comes crumbling down. You know why I came? I came to tell myself that I am over you. That I can live my life and come back to you in the in the only way you want me. As a friend. To sit here now and accept that I couldn’t. I can’t." I was left breathless with this revelation. I never really thought it would be like this, that I affected him this much and that I would have this much power over a person's life. For the first time in all four years, I am speechless. All I could do was stare at him, at this tormented soul in front of me. I've always loved Matt. He's the dearest friend that I could ever have. Once upon a time in our lives we were almost the best of friends, he is my knight in shining armor, the person who once stood beside me and helped me fight my battles. Although to let you know, there's always this thing at the back of my mind that knows. That says it is so. That understands and fights it like he does. I tried not to show how shaken I was with his revelation. I know I'm good at that. I was a stage actress for god's sake. So I said the only thing that popped into my head and the very words that I said were the same words that surprised me. For until then, I was at a loss myself. "You kept running away Matt. I was waiting for you to stop fighting it.” After that, the rain slowed to a drizzle and eventually stopped. We were both quiet, enveloped by the cacophony of sounds around us. The hum of the disco music from the next door bar, the laughter of the group of boys practicing guitar a few tables next to us, the siren from the fire truck racing below and the murmured conversations of students with their heavy medical books behind us. I look away, into the night, into the sea of lamp lights and the general traffic below us. I can't help but smile myself. At this revelation. At the silent assent that just happened. Yet at the same time, I know this is another cruel test of fate. Because as I much as I want to, I know I can't.

The Illustrado Experience

2007-10-03T08:37:05Z

Until about two years ago, I had been just another ranting blogger in the web. I just got back from wandering the parts of the world I had access to. Well, wandering and working to be frank. I went back because I miss the motherland, and would definitely prefer it to the fatherland that is for certain. I did miss the opportunities afforded me by being abroad but we can’t have everything right? I found my niche in the BPO industry when I got back, and my nerves sort of got soothed a bit. See I was hoping to make a difference somehow, and the small way wherein I made a change in someone’s day meant a lot in terms of personal satisfaction. I quickly rose the ranks and the dream of making the difference played into the bigger picture. I now had the chance to make a wider impact and I did not waste a moment of it. Developing people, imbibing the sense of pride not in the fatter paycheck but in the pride of a job done with passion. Somehow though, there still seemed to be gaps somewhere. See I had always written before. Nothing formal and no formal training on it. It was mainly for myself. Journals, stories, poetry and all that rot, which made me escape or helped me escape the pitfalls of daily life. The net afforded me that. To raise my voice and talk, despite my innate shyness. There are some authors who read my stuff and that was a blast, but nothing prepared me for Mon and Lalaine. I did a review of a horrendous bar my workmates and I went to, and lo and behold I had gotten a reply telling me she enjoyed reading it. She then proceeded to hand over an invitation. Not to be an employee but to be a part of a group of friends. What was I to do? inadequate as I felt, I went forward to clasp the hand of destiny. I’ve learned a lot being around Mon and Lalaine, and being around the Illustrados. I’ve found I could write. For real. And what I needed to do, to be able to write the way I want to – which is to make a difference. Illustrado is made up of people whom despite their aversion to credit due to them, is making a difference. Illustrado’s existence is a difference in itself. It represents our values, our ideas, our brilliance, which is often overshadowed by our own fears and insecurities as a people. The Illustrados stand in the face of that and shout; nay rage against all that. Before the team stood there though, there stood Mon and Lalaine. With the dream. And the courage to make it happen. So yeah, I do bar reviews. Then again, these people I am around, they are brilliant. It makes me so proud to have been invited to be a part of it. To be a part of something that changes the views and challenges the perception of not just Pinoys, but everyone who would leaf through Illustrado. You learn through them and bask in their brilliance. You sit and quietly drink the conversation during the times you get one or some of them across the table and realize the process. You get strength from the passion from the resolve, from the simple and humble these individuals carry themselves. There might have been a lot of disbelievers. I wasn’t really there, but from what I know the birthing process was a long and the labor hard. It’s all moot and academic now. There is a legacy here. Not the ones you often see about Pinoys becoming filthy rich abroad, but a bigger one. A more lasting and important one. A legacy that will remind all of us, regardless of where we are in the world. We can make a difference. We can make ourselves and others stop and think. We are. More importantly. We can. May everyone never forget that. If we only allow ourselves. Hats off to you chief. Gratitude springs eternal.

Go your own way

2007-10-03T00:58:12Z

There’s this friend of mine see. Kind of new in the circle. Wait, that statement may be a twist of the truth. I am the one new to her circle. I was not welcome before, and it was a difficult and embarrassing road to say the least. We didn’t start off well. That’s an understatement. It could rank as part of the all time worst starts ever. Maybe even be good enough to be a loser movie plot. I leave it there as saying more might make either of us uncomfortable. That’s something I want to avoid. Plus I don’t really now how she’ll take this. Here is the thing. For anyone bored enough to read this. People are supposed to live their lives. As they see fit. If they don’t need your hand to feed themselves or make life bearable then “shoo!” it is none of your damn business maggot. Hustle along, there’s nothing for you to see here. It’s a constant wonder how people keep needing the misery of others to convince themselves that their lives are ok. Get a f*cking grip please. And then blame others for your whore mongering. Jeez. Give us a break. So lay off and stay off. If you want to have something to occupy your time, then go and do something crazy yourself, instead of sitting in your chair and passing judgement. As they say “those who can, DO. Those who can’t, REVIEW”. Every other person is a frigging critic. This is for you tigress. Keep the faith. Live your life. We do not owe anyone anything,

Ivy Speaks

2007-10-02T11:05:31Z

Monsoon Midmornings (Ivy Speaks) The Matt and Ivy Show Rediscovery I stepped out of my door that Friday night and I immediately noticed how humid it was. hm. It'll prolly rain again tonight. good. Perfect weather for coffee, smokes and good conversation. Speaking of which, there he is. Standing beside his car, looking at anywhere else but me. *sigh* When will you ever change Mattie? I approached him and I managed to catch "Hello" just under his breath. I missed this guy a lot. It's been awhile since last saw him and all he managed was to give me an almost inaudible hello? jeez. So I went up to him and hugged him tight. There. That's better. I like giving my friends hugs. Tight ones. Its my touchy feely side at work here and there's no escaping that this person is one of the closest people in the world to me. So a formal hello is never good enough. Not for this guy. Like I said, I like hugging so I couldn't help but smile after I let go. Then I noticed the uncomfortable look on his face like he wants to run away or something. I looked at him, brows furrowed, wondering why he looked freaked. I guess he noticed. "Ok. So. How are you?" he asks. I tell him I'm ok. Finally got the chance to ask how he is but then there he goes spacing out on me again. Wtf? What is he on tonight? He finally looks at me again and asks (more like chokes) if I'm ready to leave. So I get on the passenger seat still wondering why he looks so uncomfortable. This is the first time that he gets to drive me around in all 4 years of our friendship and quite frankly, I really thought he'd flake out. Mattie's been acting really weird since that last december evening we went out for coffee. Been trying to reach him, sending sms messages and calling whenever I can but I cannot seem to find him. So finally, I got through, already worried like hell that he jumped off a cliff without saying goodbye or something (yes. he does have that tendency. My friends are all crazy) and he, the social butterfly that he is, said that I got a confirmed appointment with him. Finally. Frankly? I'm just happy he's still alive and that I found him again no matter what state he's in now. Again I play the role of the navigator. The men in my life seemed to be navigation-challenged and they all claim that they lived in the city all their lives! Passed Quezon Ave. going to Tomas Morato, we both noticed two girl-wannabes-walking on the side street. Instinctively, I look beside me just in time to catch Mattie's eyes on them creamy skin and short hem lines. Men. I smirk and then asked him to guess if those are women or not. Bewildered, he looks at me and says he doesn't know. I gave a quick analysis that if you are a woman, that tall, with figure and skin and hair like that, wearing that, you'll prolly want to ride a cab right?! He looks at me like I'm someone crazy. Noticed the sarcasm on my face and realizes that I'm playing around with his head again. This feels familiar in a very very good way. Its been a year since I last saw him and through that span of time, nothing seemed to change between the two of us. I was actually scared of the changes. You know the saying, change is the only permanent thing in this world. I was wondering if we're gonna babble about like complete morons, making small talk, waiting unbearably until the night ends and we decide to just go home. He seemed happy though. Even with the seeming disorientation and the fleeting moments when he seemed to want to run away. It was a short but happy ride on the way to the coffee place. A few moments before we discuss the turmoil that our lives turned out to be. I know this is gonna be a night of revelations, resolutions and of course, good conversation. I can almost smell the rain. Dunno if it's gonna dampen my spirit or if the breeze would refresh my already tired system. But I'm happy I found Matt again. Finally.