Toyjunk-The Dolphin

     " Moon and stars shine at daytime. The summer heat transposes into the icy age."

     The bizzarre thinking is at present my usual.  I don’t understand myself. Things aren’t normal anymore.I am completely clueless.

     Stop thinking cruel. I have not gone nuts. My screws are still tight. I am still in my senses. Only, I feel change within me. Let me cite the peculiarity that I exhibit nowadays.

    I wake up with stars in my eyes. Waking up is a waited moment of the day. Unlike before, I like always to sleep. As a matter of fact, day became night because I was professional sleeper. Today,  I am raring to go. I immediately get my towel and take my bath. I breeze through dressing up and I proceed to school.

   I romance with notes. I am still serious with my work. I am still perfectionist but now I enjoy every minute of my work. Each effort I do, I appreciate. I literally sing while working. I sing my heart out. I whistle a happy tune.

    Good is very good. Bad is good. Very good is perfect. All are good. I find it weird. My critical self had turned affirmative. Everything is good for me. No matter how bad it is, it becomes perfectly alright with my standard. If I have seen some flaws, I gladly give myself into it to make it utterly perfect.

      I realized that enumerating these oddities would be in vain. You will miss the point if I continue the babblative effort.Instead, let me tell you the reason why the changes. That will spell out the point.

     Last holy Wednesday, at 9:15 p.m., I got a text message. It was a one-liner. It read.

     "I love you so much."

     I clicked my phone endlessly. I was checking if there were other messages with it. I was sweating clammily. I texted back asking if it was a joke. But there was no reply. Later,I jokingly texted "Cutie" (That is how I call the person.) that i love him too. But still there was no answer.

    I wasn’t  able to sleep that night. The dawn was too slow. I wanted an answer. But the answer never came.

     The sleepless night never affected me that day. I did my chores with dedication but the text message still in mind. I was losing all trust with the situation. I arrived in the conclusion that it was a joke. Until during lunch time, a text came. The explanation of cutie why a text message couldn’t be sent was enough.  I did not bother to ask him about the I love you message.After, I read beyond the lines of every messages he hhad sent after. Cutie reminds me to eat, to take my medicine. Update about the person’s whereabouts was regular. I realized the connection. I am important. I matter. Days were too long. I wanted to see cutie but it was impossible. I have to wait until Monday.

     When we saw each other, we both couldn’t look each other eye to eye. We ran out of words. We couldn’t exhange sane ideas. Sensibility lost its meaning. It was funny, I ask the person same questions. Thus I got the same answers. We stop talking when others are around. We were like children in their first day of school. We were unsure of our actions. We cut short the meeting.Still, I felt his sincerity when he bade me goodbye. The feeling for the moment was elating.It was ecstatic. We were both happy.

    This afternoon, no words came out. We were so shy because there were people around. We both felt the tension. We talked with our eyes.We understood. We parted ways oblivious.

     So, you now know why I see violets as read. You are right. I am in …….

………………………LOVE for the real first time. (Whew.)

            I was fixing my things when I found a picture. I held it on both hands. I was surprised that my hands did not even shiver as I held the image. I was apprehending such reaction for a year ago was a different story. 

Pain was stabbing me in multitude times. My self-image then was in an all time low. I was blaming myself for breaking the trust of the person I valued the most that time.  I was like a schizophrenic moving back and forth beside my bed. I did it a thousand times. (That was an understatement. I am ashamed to admit that I did it even more.) The crying blurred my vision. Then, I was too tired that I involuntarily sat on my bed. I was lost in translation. I lay. I held the pillow in my hands. I repeatedly uttered the moaning of disgruntlement.  Then zapped…I was lost in the universe. I vanished like the foam of the sea. I became an atom that dismantled in smaller parts. I went kaput.  I did not exist.

         I could just take a deep breath, recalling such fact. Slowly, I looked at the picture again. I held it closer. I scrutinized it for a long time. I studied every detail. I looked at him. I said his name. I quipped the word, best friend.

       I saw the innocence he exuded in the image. The unpretentious smile downcast the other details of the picture. He was kind.  I muttered to  myself. I was waiting for my tears to well. Crying would have been expected for I relived all the happy memories we had. Crying would have been a natural reaction as I recalled pains that stuck the two of us.  I wanted that I cry. For an unknown reason, I didn’t. Instead, I stood I put down the image on top of my computer. Then, I walked towards the cabinet. The act was done with preciseness. I was so sure of what to get. I was excited. My movements were fast.

      Suddenly, I saw the paper bag. I pulled it out. I carried it back to my bed. Then I sat. I inserted my hand into the paper bag.  A soft velvety touch gave a different sensation for the moment.  I couldn’t explain the emotion. Ecstatic is an understatement. I pulled it out. I saw the stuffed toy.  It can’t help to give myself a grimace for I find myself bird brain for hiding it for over a year. (Hiding it was important. Because if I didn’t,  I would still have been wallowing this time.)  I embraced it.  I wanted that I cry. I didn’t.

    Then got the picture on my PC again. As my right hand cuddled the toy, I was holding the picture. At that instance,  I sighed the words of thanks.(The moment will put a movie scene into shame.)

    Then I remembered that his birthday was near. For some years, I have never failed to write him a creative piece. I paused for the moment. I thought if I would write him a piece again. I decided not to write.  I remembered that the same time last year, I wrote him a promise.

     It was the same time last year that I texted him. I wanted to talk. I was so sure that I wanted to patch things up. After a series of pleading for a meeting, he heeded. I readied myself. I knew what words to say. I knew how to act. I was determined to bring his trust back.

    I anxiously waited for him. Then he came. His sight brought pricks to the heart as I saw him enter with wrath on his face. He uttered words that would haunt me after. “Ano? Hindi  na naman magkakaintindihan.” He sat beside me. It took sometime before words came out from my mouth. With the last tinge of courage, I told him what was inside my heart. I was very sincere that I almost wanted to literally show my heart so he would be able to see how I longed to have him back and how sincere I was bring his trust. Then, like a sword penetrating a spongel. He said the magic words. “Hindi na tayo pwedeng mag bestfriend. We are different.” Those words put clogs on my ears that I didn’t hear no more.  Time froze. My heart suddenly stopped to later on beat with the hardest thump. It was too hard that it rocked my world.

    I should have pleaded. That should have been natural for me to do. But I didn’t. I humbly accepted it. I was like a warrion who boed to his enemy.

     That remaining day was the longest in my life. I thought every minute. I was trying to stop time. I was really praying I could bring back the time. I was praying I could start over again. 

     That night, a moment of enlightenment breeze through the senses, I took a bold step. I wrote the letter. I wrote the promise.  (Yes, I promised. I promised that I will prove my worth by leaving him behind. I did. I do.  I will always be true to that. For the last time, I will build my self-respect. I will bear my promise. (See? Not all promises can be broken.))

For days, I revised the letter. Then a day before his birthday, I sent it to him with the friendship ring he gave me. It was hard but it was proper.

     I thought it would be easy. It wasn’t. I was blaming myself endlessly. My life picked up so slow. I was not achieving. I was not moving. Moving on was too elusive.

        It took me a year to get over what happened. The year seemed century but it was worth it. I learned life. I found God. I learned to value my family. I learned to value myself. I found me.

      It is now over.  Now as I hold the picture and the stuffed toy, I was waiting to shed a tear. I didn’t. It was over.

     Have I gone over him? No. It is better to have him in my mind to remind me to be best as a person. I am thankful that he had been part of my life. I became not only better but best.

     Do I want him back? No. He deserves a better life without me.

     Why did I not cry? I have healed myself. I have forgiven myself. This was an epiphany of my life. I am blessed. 

    I got the paper bag. I hid the stuffed toy and the picture in it. I put it in the cabinet.

    I slept.

    I slept forever.

    It was peaceful.

    Then…

    I am now happy.

    (I was praying that you would not read this blog for I wanted you to be free with skepticisms with regard the reason for this literary move. I wrote this piece for I couldn’t contain the happiness I feel at the moment. The pain was over. The worries are over. The regrets are over. What I felt was relief that understanding came like an exploding star amid a black hole. What I felt was relief that happiness came like the chirping of crickets after the torrents.

      I just wish you the best.

      I wish you happy birthday this year and the coming years. Thank you for teaching me life. This will be my last piece for you. I know that I have no more reason to talk about you. I will always remember the promise. I will never forget.

     You are now happy. I now face life on my own. You face your own battle. We have our own battles. May God bless us always. God is so good.

     Every morning is a new day. Every day is a new life. Every waking up gives new perspectives.

    I am so sure of this fact for yesterday I was a different I. Now, the "I" is  so peculiarly odd with the "I" of yesteryears.

    I am certain for my life is a testimony of the fact.

    One morning, I woke up.

     I can’t dance anymore. My singing has gone mediocre. My speaking has faltered than usual. I have to triple my effort to say things clearly. I limp when i walk. Dizziness has been part of a daily routine.

     Five years ago was a different story. I was a near perfect being but now no more.

    One morning, I woke up.

     He is now gone. Not a single mark is now left. Not a single sigh is now heard. Not a word of concern is given. No bond exists. The relationship is gone. The friendship went puffed.

    A year ago was a contrast.Harmony prevailed. The relation was ideal but now distrusts rule.

    That is how tricky life is. It takes wild turns. Things change in an instant.

    With uncertainties, fear should have stolen the confidence I have. Fortunately, I take things in a different stride. The truth is that I love every morning. I love every waking up. I love the fact that tomorrow may be different from today.

    Life is exciting for life changes.

    I only I wish that when I wake up tomorrow,  I will still enjoy life to the fullest.  I hope that I will understand life’s meaning more everytime I fail and  everytime I am challenged. 

    Life evolves. It’s God’s rule.

   Tomorrow, I wake up.

    Then…(God lets me continue my life story.  I know it will be different again. God blesses me.   God wakes me up. He loves me)

    I am back in enchanted kingdom after 8 years. I look at the spaceshuttle ride. I daring fact cooks in my mind.

    I told myself before the ride that I could do it. Psyching myself was easy. I was confident of my safetiness on the ride. I sat with preciseness on the seat. I readied myself as other people rode. I looked at my side and at my front. I marveled with the jubilation of the other riders. The bar of security was placed. I took a deep breath as it started to move. The fast motion made a gushing wind that hit my skin. My hair seemed to rise because of excitement. The 360 degrees turns pushed my adrenalin which I couldn’t explain. I was shouting on top of my lungs. The feelings was overwhelming. I was in a motion of oblivion. I couldn’t explain what ruled me in the experience. When the ride was over, I was asking for more. I tapped my breast. I was proud of the feat. I was brave. Only a few can do such.

    The spaceshuttle ride is still on my mind. My last experience riding it is too exciting to forget. Now that I am back. I remember the fun. I remember the ride. Unfortunately, I can only now recall. After my stroke, It was impossible to do it again. Doing it is a life-jeopardizing move. I don’t have regrets that I can’t do it anymore. I am happy that I am back. I am already happy hearing the shouts, the giggles and the laughters of my students.That is enough. I can just imagine doing the ride again.

    Don’t feel sorry.Don’t think that I will not try my daringness again. I am trying to put all my courage in my heart. I will be riding the ferris wheel. I hope I can do it. I can with God’s help. ( I made the ferris wheel ride. I am simply contented. I can’t ask for more.)

     "He was watching me."

      Fear ruled me as I saw a figure at the foot of my bed. A man of mesomorphic body structure was sternly looking at me. His eyes seemed fiery. I shivered with fright. I closed my eyes, thinking the sight would vanish in a wink of an eye. I was wrong. But the second sight which I stealthily did, the image became clearer. I held my blanket. I put it over my face. I was perspiring. I was afraid but I tried not to make a sound. I did not want to wake up my mother. Under the sheet, I closed my eyes again. I was praying. I just uttered the name of Jesus, repeatedly.

      I tried to regain my courage. I slowly peeped through the blanket. I again saw the man.His eyes seemed glaring. I couldn’t conatined the fright anymore. I shouted. It was so loud that minutes later, I hear my brother’s foorsteps running downstairs.

    In a flash, the figure vanished when my brother enetered my room. I was gasping with breath. I couldn’t believe the experience. I saw a man that was really not there. I appeased myself. I told my brother that it was nothing.

    He left me. Though I was still shaking, I pacified myself. I thought of the image. I recalled the horror. I recalled the way he looked at me. I couldn’t explain the heaviness that I felt. My emotions were incontrollable.I gave in. Tears wet my pillows. I reflected on the incident. I thought of the dead people of my life. I was so sorry that I once in a while forget them. I remembered, Tatay.

    I asked for his forgiveness.

     I would not know if that was a hallucination or a product of the confusions and complexities that juggle my life nowadays. It would not matter anymore. The important thing was the reminder of some important things and persons I have forgotten. It was too frightening that now I will never forget. No, not again. He doesn’t have to watch over me. He is always in my mind. He is always with me.   My heart throbs with him.

      I alighted from our van with a deep sigh. I looked around and  admired the campus. The greeneries gave me a soothing relief. I followed my company to the press of the exclusive school. (We were to buy books for our library.) Getting into their display room, I found it unusually small for the reputable institution. (I am describing the place to give you the ironic scenario. The real story happened outside the publication house.)  The small space made me uneasy. I decided  to go out of the publication house and stayed at the corridors. I took a rest on a bench. While seated, a bunch of students came. I overheard them in a conversation. It went this way.

    "Putang ina pare. Loko si _________________," the cute college guy remarked.

   " Puta talaga siya. Mukhang tanga talaga ang punyeta," the chubbier guy answered.

     " He should have asked us to come. Bastard!," the girl said.

   Then they ended up laughing. I almost fell from my seat with the kind of words they used. I tried to give reason to the situation. I was thinking that maybe they were irritated that was why they used such vulgarity. I diverted my thoughts.

    Minutes after, a couple passed by. They appeared intimate. I scrutinized their actions.

   "Puta, are you going?" The thin looking girl said in a thick Manila accent.

   "Hindi e. Mom will come."

   "That would be fine."   

    I cringed on my seat. I was uneasy to hear the words again.

   I entertained myself by texting. Again, my attention was caught by the passers by. A group of three good looking guys walked before me.

   "Pare, you should come ha." the dusky guy reminded.

   "Puta naman oo. Of course." replied the tallest guy.

        At the moment, I though I was warped in an unknown place. I found the situations alarming. I became dogmatic that moment. I was thinking that maybe a number or worse, all the students in the school maybe are like the college people I encountered while seated on the bench.

    Upon hearing the words again for the nth time. I stood up and decided to go to the van. Another minute in that location and another eavesdropping would make me lethargic. I am maybe too old already that I can’t dicipher the language of the youth today. Hearing such kind of language from young people from a well known institution brought me into deep thoughts of regrets.

       On our way home. I was quiet. I thought about the college students. I thought about my former students who are studying in Manila.Are they eaten up by the culture? Are they enculturated to be in such actuations and ways? Are they  still themselves amidst the pressure of the millieu they are into?

    I thought about myself.  I appreciated that I was provincial bred and that I came from a small school. I have maintained my simplicity of life. I have retained the sanctity of my being. I am pleasantly simple. I am happy this way.

         In the end, I uttered a prayer. I prayed for my continued simplicity. I prayed for the young people. I asked the Lord to give them the conviction so as not to be eaten by the society in the culture of barbarism and elitism. I prayed that He dwells in man’s hearts.

      I thought. In a company of cats, I hope I can still be a rat. I hope that I will not be forced to be a cat in my ways to please others. It will be hard but that will make me happy for I will be me.

“Tita Paz is dead” Junjun broke me the sad predicament. The devastating news brought me to my knees. I couldn’t utter a word. My tongue literally curled in disbelief. I bit my lips. My whole body shrivered. I asked Junjun again. I tried to dissuade the fact. I wanted him to get back what he had said. I was praying that he was telling me a bad joke. But again he muttered, “Tita Paz is dead.” It was clear. It stabbed my heart a thousand times. Tears welled. I pulled Junjun inside the work room. It had not sunk in my sensibility. I asked him what happened. I was in disbelief when I heard the account. I was muttering words of negation as I listened. If only I could turn back the time. I decided not to immediately go and see her. I couldn’t think well. My blood pressure shot up. I felt my head thumping.I couldn’t move. I was lost in oblivion. I was frozen in time. When Tita Nini called me up, I broke down. Words mumbled. I couldn’t talk to her. When she realized that I was out of control, she opted not to continue talking to me. I cried loudly. I was in frenzy. The call was already off but I was still holding the phone firmly. I almost squeezed it to destruction. It took sometime before I was appeased. My co-teachers were beside me to console. Later, Junjun has left. I still didn’t move from my seat. Tears rolled. Then, good memories of Tita Paz came back. She had been a mother to us. Everytime I would leave home, I would always see her to ask her to look after the house, Junjun and Nanay. Everytime I had woes. She was there to listen and to offer solutions. When we lost househelp, she found us one. I grew up with her. I remember that I spent my summer vacations with her when I was a kid. Like her own son, she would lull me into sleep. The last loving thing she did for us was when she cooked for our media noche. That was also the last time that I talked to her. (Days were busy because of school. It kills me realizing this fact. If only I knew that time with her was short.) That night, I saw her in the coffin. I gazed her face. I tried to memorize its countour. I would not want to forget. Then, suddenly I thought that I saw her breathing. I thought her breast was moving with life. It took sometime before I realized that I was having hallucinations. Obviously, I was in denial. I wanted her to still be alive. The truth got into me for quite sometime. I always looked at her. In her side, I was praying that it was a nightmare. I was praying that I was just sleeping and for a time, I will wake up from the bad lull. For 4 days, I was in a trans of disbelief. Until, reality bit me during her internment. When I threw the flowers and let go of the balloons. I knew then that Tita was dead. On January 12, she died. Yes, she died on my birthday. It was my most memorable natal day. God has gotten a prized beloved. For the first time, my birthday prayer is for someone else. It was for Tita. This afternoon, I will pass her house again. I will shed tears again. I will moan for her lost again. I will never be tired of doing such. It is because I love Nanay Paz. I loved her like my mother. Tita Paz is Nanay Paz. ( It took me some time to write this piece. The devastation was great. Thoughts couldn’t be webbed. My eyes couldn’t be cleared. I cried rivers. I still cry.)

     Fifteen minutes before 2006, firecrackers were lighted to spark the now noisy midnight. Supposedly, it should have been a regular new year. The festivities were routinary. The merry making was usual. But that night, I did something for the first time. The explosion in my life was gargantuan that everything came into a lull. It was placid after. I felt different.I felt him.

     At our door, I looked at a distance. I marveled at the sights. The colors of lights clouded my eyes. The reverberating and irritating sounds hovered my ears.  The nauseating smoke penetrated my nosetrils.  I stood at the door undaunted. I was not affected even a tinge by the scenario before me. In that ironic state, I was in complete joyous state. I was even shedding tears of joy. However, no one seemed to notice. Joy emanates within my chasms.

    In the last seconds of the year, I uttered the prayer of thanks. Though life had not been so smooth, I have survived the odds. God has shown me the way in all respect. He has never abandoned me. I adhere to him. I have known that when you offered everything to him. He takes charge. Though he guides, I still call my shots. I have never gone awry.  Though some things did not go the way I like, I still feel the perfection of things.I understood life better.

    This is the first time that I prayed amid such festivities. This is the first time that I thank God at this time. This is the first time that I understood the essence of life. My prayer is an act greater than the explosion that transpired that evening. Everything changed in me. As i shed those tears, i muttered word of thanks countlessly. I couldn’t explain the happiness I felt. I couldn’t decipher the jubilation that ruled me. I just knew one thing. That one important moment belonged to the Lord. I gave him my reverence. I gave him that time-the most treasured thing that I possess that moment.

    The new year had  come. I was still standing at the door. The signts were no longer clear for my tears have blocked my sight. The only things  definite were my words of praise and surety  of feeling of gratitude. Then, my brother called me for us to eat. I muttered my last words before I heeded to the call. "

    Thank you for loving me, Jesus. Take care of my being. You are my captain. You know where should I be. Thank You.Bless me."

     Next year, I will do it again. It feels great. The prayer will tear my heart in to pieces of gratitude. It will explode again. My words of praise will hit its most explosive state. Hopefully, It will hit me hard to make me more alive. Jesus will dwell in me in such instance.

    Happy New Year! God Bless.

    December 24, I prayed to Jesus that he accords me one christmas bonus aside from my ultimate request of having my family complete on Christmas day. That was "a christmas greeting" from a dear friend.

    The whole day of Christmas, I waited for a greeting that did not come. Was I sad? Yes.  I regreted that he did not remember. You would probably ask, why did I not make the effort of greeting him first. Actually, I was being true to my promise to him. Though, I held my cellphone all day. I was always at the brink of texting his mom to get his number. At the end, I did not. I always held on to my promise. For once, I was true to my word. That scenario was very not me. I am typically assertive. I pursue all that I want. Eccentricity was my game. That time, I was playing a different music. Life experiences have changed me to be such.

    The promise I mentioned was a decision I made April of this year. It was one of the hardest decisions I have ever made. The decision was like giving up a day’s meal. In such decision, my life changed. My ideology made a turn. I have become cautious of things I do. I got aware of my being. I learned the value of people who really value and love me. I understood life better. I have God to take over my affairs.

    December 25, 11:59 p.m. I looked at my cell. No message came. When 12 a.m. struck. I gave up. I thank God. I knew he got his reason. The greeting did not come. Sad? I was. I was very sad but I understand.

     I understand. See, those who know me will be surprised with my course of action. Understanding was the greatest learning I had for the year.It is engrained in my mind that things have reasons. I will embrace such reasons. I understand.God made me understand.

       Tonight at SM netopia, my friend, computer 21, again took my never ending woes. Surprisingly,  I did not realize that my buddy, had a good news for me. In my message inbox was the greeting I was waiting for. That was enough. I was already satisfied. He did not forget. I was happy.

    I was right. I did not complain to the Lord why things were not the way I like them to be. He waits for the time. Actually, He gives us things we deserve only we do not know how to find them. Praise God. He is my keeper. 

n.b.

    Remember the thing I asked the Lord (Please read 10 things I want for christmas). He did give me my request. I was with Junjun and Nanay last christmas. The christmas greeting was only a bonus. He did give too. He gave all. I know he would because I have been good throughout the year. God truly loves me.

        I am leaving my hurts. I will leave the painful past. I will be a new "I."  I will trek a new life. I will tread a better path. I am changing for the better.

         If I will tell you this, I will be lying again.The  truth is  I will not leave the pains and hurts. I will not forget the life wracking experience. I will not be a new "I." I will not trek a new life. I will not change paths. I will not change for the better.

    Absurd? No. It is what my heart dictates. Let me tell you why.

    I will dwell on the pains and hurts. Thus, I can feel the excruciating feeling as it penetrates my soul. I will understand the repercussions of what cause me pain. In the end, I will be numb. I will be stronger. I will be brave to face whatever comes.

    I will not forget the worst experiences I have ever had. I will always keep them in my mind so I will be reminded of the learning I have learned. No matter how bitter the pill. I will have to have it in my mouth till I absorb all its bitterness. Thus, I will not take the same pill again for I have known the experience. I will be afraid to swallow it again.

        I will not trek a new life nor I will change path for it is a wrong way to do so.  I just have to continue the life I am living. I cannot afford to live a life unfinished for it will go to waste. I have to treasure the "I" that God gave. I have to continue it. I can’t change path in a flick of a finger. Slowly, I should change gear. I should take time.Thus, I will not make wild turns. I will not lose my way.

    Lastly, I will not change for the better for I can’t. The reality is that I always do things at my best. Doing better is getting into mediocrity. In times, I fail not because I did not do my best. Only God thinks those were not for me. He knows I deserve other things.

       When the new year comes, I will continue life. With God’s help. I will survive.Thank you for my year. I have become "I"