Pighati't ligaya sa mundong biyaya

Nasaan na nga ba? | Mula sa exhibisyong "Illuminating Rod. Paras Perez" ng Ateneo Art Gallery

Tinanong ako kamakailan ng propesor ko sa FA 101 kung bakit ako nagsusulat - tanong para sa sagot na matagal ko nang nakaligtaan.

Ako ang tipo ng taong nagtatago pa rin ng kuwaderno kung saan ko naitatala ang mga saloobin kong personal. Sadyang makaluma siguro ako. O sadyang sentimental. O sadyang marami lamang mga bagay-bagay sa mundo na nais kong bigyang halaga ngunit nahihirapang ibahagi kanino man sa takot na hindi nila maiintindihan ang mga ito. Masasabi kong mahalaga sa akin ang makaalala.

Nais kong mabasa ang aking mga sulatin nang malaman ko kung papaano ako sumusulong hindi lamang bilang mag-aaral ng malikhaing pagsulat kundi pati na rin bilang isang taong pangkaraniwan. Sa isang banda, sa kay habang panahon, nakaligtaan ko ang lahat ng ito. Walang punto, walang bisa, walang halaga. Ngayon, malinaw kong natatanaw ang kasukdulan.

Ang blog entry na ito ang ika-100 na tala sa munti kong paraiso. At sa lahat ng entry na naipaskil ko, ito lamang ang nakaligtaan kong isulat muna sa kuwaderno. Nagbabago na nga marahil ang panahon. Ngayon, mahalaga na rin pati ang oras.

Sa araw na ito, nadayo ako sa Student Media Congress sa De La Salle University, kung saan natagpuan ko ang sarili kong nakikipagpatintero sa oras. Naging mahalaga ang bawat segundo sa isang araw na hindi ko inakalang magiging tampulan ng desisyon, pag-aalangan, at sentimentong pilit pa ring bumabagabag sa isipan ko.

Sa araw na ito, muli kaming nagkita nina Charet at Sheela, mga kababata at kamag-aral sa elementarya at hayskul. Bagaman hindi namin inaasahan ang pagtatagpong ito, sa munting pagkakataong ito ko muling nadiskubre na kay saya pa rin ng buhay sa gitna ng pighati. At sa munting kasayahang dulot nito, nangibabaw din ang kilalang lungkot upang mangahas sa ngiting tunay at dalisay.

Sa FX pag-uwi, sa gitna ng pagtakam sa take-out na McDo, at sa kabila ng pagsulyap ng isang pasaherong naiingayan sa mga halakhak ng mga mag-aaral, naging usapin ang mga problemang kinahaharap, at mga sentimentong hindi kailanman nailalahad sa mga kaibigan sa mga kolehiyong napasukan namin. Sa isang bandang hindi inaasahan, naging kalakip din ng aming muling patigtitipun-tipon ang usapin ng pangarap. Ilang taon na lamang at matatapos na ang lahat.

Lumaki na kaming apat sa mga paraan na hindi ko noon maisip. Sa tuwing nasusulyapan ko sina Charet at Sheela, bumabalik ako sa aming kabataan, na siyang nagmimistulang iba pang mundo sa sarili nito. Para bang isang dimensiyon na lamang ang mga buhay naming nakalipas. Naging higit na mahalaga ang kasalukuyan, ang sandali na iyon sa loob ng FX na para bang habambuhay tatakbo.

Malamang hindi niya ito mababasa ngunit nais kong makita si Charet bilang isang ganap na propesyonal; lider na tinitingala sa isang kompanya. Nais kong makita siyang masaya na higit pa sa sayang naibabahagi niya sa mga taong nasa paligid niya. Nais kong matagpuan niya ang tunay na minimithi ng puso niya at nang magtagumpay siya sa larangang ito. Nais kong ipagpatuloy niya ang mga pangarap niya nang walang pagtatanong, walang pangangamba, walang pagpapanggap. Alam kong mahirap at sadya pang hihirap. Ngunit sa pagkakakilala ko kay Charet, alam kong malalampasan niya ang pagsubok na ibinigay sa kanya nang walang humpay. Puro lamang pagmamahal ang maibibigay ko sa taong ito na, mula sa aming pagkabata, ang siya lamang nakababasa sa mga saloobing hindi ko naipahahayag.

Sa gitna ng malakas na pagbuhos ng ulan kung saan sweater lamang ang tanging silong, sa pagpatak ng alas-9 ng gabi, at sa paggulong ng jeep patungong hilaga, naging kalakip ng malugod na pagtatagpo ang malungkot na pamamaalam. Dama kong matagal-tagal muli bago ang sunod naming pagkikita.

Nagiging desisyon ang pagpili ng damit, ang makiupo sa mesa ng kamag-aral na hindi mo gaanong nakakausap, ang pagpunta nang maaga sa bulwagan upang makuhanan ng litrato ang artistang paborito, ang paghihintay sa mga kaibigang matagal mo nang hindi nakikita, at ang pakikisama at pakikiusap sa mga taong hindi mo lubusang naiintidahan.

Isang kakaibang paghimok ang humila sa akin na magsulat, at isulat partikular ang karanasan na hindi ko tuluyang maipaliwanag. Sa muli kong pagpasok sa blog na ilang buwan ko ring nilisan, naharap ako sa desisyong ipagpatuloy o hindi ang burador na kasalukuyan mong binabasa. Muli kong naitanong sa aking sarili kung papaano. At nang masagot ko ito, naitanong ko naman kung bakit.

At sa wakas, nang natapos ang ilang oras na pagmumunimuni, napagtanto kong kay lakas pala ng mga sandaling madalang dumating sa buhay nating kay iksi. Likas ang mga salita, tapat ang damdamin. Hindi lamang pala ang makaalala ang lubos na mabigat; higit pang mahalaga ang hindi paglimot.

Masaya. Malungkot.

Nagtitimpla lamang ang buhay.

---------

At para sa mga taong nalinlang ng blog entry na ito, na inaasahang magiging tungkol ito sa Student Media Congress ngunit walang nakuha mula sa pagbabasa nito, huwag kayong mag-alala: kapakipakinabang ang lahat.

How I never met Rey Mysterio

This is basically the only angle that I had of Rey during the entire event.

What psyched me up the entire week was the news that Rey Mysterio was coming here to the Philippines for a meet-and-greet. The vow that I will never miss that for the world blinkered profusely in all parts of my mind, "never again", it seemed to say. So I went to Trinoma yesterday to catch that. I even attempted creating a Rey Mysterio mask, hoping that I could still be eligible to enter the contest, which a certain television network concocted to form a VIP legion. But then I had to discard that option due to the lack of time.

A little obscure fact: the first wrestling match I ever watched was that of Rey Mysterio against The Big Show. Rey won, in case you are wondering - even though I rooted for Show. So, yep, it was a rather big deal that Rey was going to come. VIP or not, I just have to be there. Maybe he'd sign my magazine! - the one with him on the cover, Holiday 2010. So I brought that along.

Hm. Contrary to their usual tradition, Studio 23 didn't chop up this episode. Interesting.

Upon my arrival, circles of inquisitive people were already closing around on all floor levels of the mall, huddled to witness the event at the activity center, in which a replay of RAW's 1000th episode was being displayed. And who would I find in the VIP section but... kids? Kids! Little kids, who, I bet, do not even watch wrestling or did not watch it until last year when CM Punk made it big again. A swarm of spoiled, rich kiddies whose parents happen to be well-connected with the media! While there I was, outside the barricade, shunned out of Rey's sight, when it was me who have been watching wrestling for eight years - at least half of my life - even before the VIP kids became sperms in their father's testicles!

Since I was way behind the stage, I never in actuality got to see Rey the entire time he was taking pictures with those spoiled brats. Instead, I was screaming "Rey! Rey! I love you, Rey!" at the top of my lungs like some psychomaniac freak. Yet, as soon as I said those, LEGIT tears formed in the corners of my eyes - all the things that I have ever wanted to say, summed up in a ball of words that furiously rolled towards open space, as I hoped - I really hoped - that he would hear them and notice. Of course, he never did. I was drowned out by the noises, the Booyaka Booyaka 619 profusely playing as the meet-and-greet ensued for what seemed like ages. I only caught glimpses of him as the event was about to close. And, by that time, I, along with my fellow "nobody's"/"non-VIP's"/"peeps without connections" were shouting our support for Rey-Rey, hoping that he'd just look behind him for once. And in fact, he did just that.

Nganga.

Sad, isn't it? That he never got to sign my WWE Magazine or that he never got to slap the skin of my hand were not the bad parts of it. It was that feeling of self-loathing that came to me after he had turned around just to see us that broke my heart the most. I've been meaning to understand the sequence of events on my way home. Why I felt so sad. And, in fact, I think I got it already. Was it because there was no such kind of redemption? A smile, a wave, anything? Perhaps I was just tired.

I can also play the blame game. And, believe me, if you know me at all, I am not one who would play this game for the world. But yes, I think it rather puts off the stress when I try. I blame the event organizers and their sucky arrangements. I blame the fucked-up security guards who insisted on blocking our view of Rey, just so they could, more or less, get their fifteen seconds of fame when the cameras arrived. And because of this act of vanity at katangahan (no other words to top this, I couldn't emphasize better), some fans outside the barricade, actually got past the railing squeaky clean! And these same security guards have the audacity to be angry when that happened? Ha! Unless my theory that the VIP's bribing the event organizers is true, as far as I am concerned, those suckers never paid a dime to get in! The resignation was a matter of luck via online registration, that's all.

So yes, now I also blame the rich spoiled brats who have powerful daddies in or within connection to the networks, even that sumbitch who presented the plate of adobo. The nerve of some of them sporting a Daniel Bryan/CM Punk shirt, which were only either purchased abroad or online for a high price. Those bitches. And they were chanting D-Bry's "Yes! Yes! Yes!" for NO apparent reason at  all WATTAFUCKISUPWITAT?! And to stand on seats AS THOUGH THEY WERE NOT CLOSE ENOUGH TO REY ALREADY! What an insult!

Take notice of the guy with the hat who is about to block our view  - again.

This event doesn't change my view on the man that Rey Mysterio is. I will forever like that guy. I will forever love the company he works for. Yet, it was a sad day, no doubt about that. I was so close yet so far. Soooo close. Too close. I could have studied for my midterms exam but didn't out of love and respect. Yet, I don't feel as though it was worth it. Not one bit. I had a circle of emotions on my way home, even now as I write this, but the ones that sink down most painfully are self-deprecation and dislike for everyone in that event - bliss being out of the picture.

Suppose I get lucky next time. I'll earn money and buy tickets. Then I'll come back for everything.

Maybe then, I wouldn't cry in the FX going home.

Nagpaganda pa si Ate...

Yet, from the get-go... consider this event a failure. All my hate.

Mga bagay-bagay

Nakasabay ko sa FX kaninang umaga ang kaklase noong high school. Iyon na rin siguro ang huling beses na magkakasabay kami. Hindi naman kasi ako doon naghihintay talaga ng sasakyan. Nagkataon lang na wala nang dumadaan na FX sa subdibisyon ko - ano pa kayang point ng waiting shed na ito kung wala naman palang sasakyan tuwing rush hour, 'di ba? - kaya dumayo pa ako sa Almar para lang mag-antay. At, malay ko ba na may pila pala. Basta nang makita ko ang FX, agad akong sumakay... kaya naman maraming commuter ang nagalit sa akin. Hehe.

Nitong araw na ito, habang kami'y magkatabi sa loob ng FX, lalo ko pang napahalagahan ang kaklase kong ito. Huwag magkakamaling basahin nang hihigit pa sa brotherly love sapagkat hanggang doon lang talaga! Ganoon pa rin siya; walang pinagbago, maliban nalang sa buhok na napabayaang kumapal at humaba. Mabait pa rin siya. Gallante. Guwapo pa rin. Naks. At dahil sinabi niya sa barker ng FX na magkasama kami, hindi ako napalayas mula sa sasakyan!

It's a different feeling seeing familiar faces. It becomes more difficult when you have a lot to say, but can't.