Tabula Rasa

I'M MOVING OUT

This blog is gone for good, although I'm not deleting it. I just feel the need for something new.

Anyways, I moved HERE. Hope to see you there.

posted by Dexter @ 2:26 PM Comments: 0

Polarities

She wanted none of that. As far as she was concerned, the deal was finally done – convinced that it was all that she ever wanted.

“Simple lang,” she recalled to me. “Hindi ko gusto ang glamurosang buhay.”

It was hard to believe that, knowing she had consistently aced five straight terms. She needed to endure four more, of course, but she was quite easily set for anything she wanted – earn dollars, live abroad, or simply stay here, work at a famous telecommunications company, or, barring that, a local TV station.

“Maraming papatay para umabot sa posisyon mo ngayon. Ano ‘yun, pagkatapos mong mag-aral, magbubukid ka lang?” I challenged, partially in jest.

She grinned. “Gusto ko ‘yun dati, kaso sayang naman, ‘di ba? Pero ‘yun nga – ‘yung hindi mayaman para ‘di masalimuot ang buhay.”

It often comes misconstrued, but it was always how much that mattered more. It was never a matter of if we were; it was always where we were – and we’re here for sure, although where exactly remains as open-ended as ever. Maybe, it’s the gravity of its improbability seeping through – knowing that we are forever to trudge on striving for which that they say could never be achieved. Then again, it’s supposed to be the challenge that keeps you going.

You’re supposed to learn something after all. There’s the chance that things get messier, but then, things get settled anyway. It’s simply a matter of time when you feel you could just stand still and watch everything fly by. She’s found that moment, at least, and a semblance of happiness and fulfillment beyond which she no longer yearns for. I’ve personally wondered how anyone could be as contented with that, while I find something that’s decidedly scary about the unknowable. And yet there’s that and there's happiness. Granted, we’ve strained too much of ourselves to be where we are now, you simply can’t contend with that feeling, despite knowing you’re seeing something good go to waste. At least she knows what she wants; there’s something I haven’t achieved myself.

And for everything else, there’s doubt and the people who talk about the future; those who get thrilled, the ones who get scared, and others who don’t give anything at all. But always, always, it’s the people who know what they want and believe in it who ultimately succeed.

posted by Dexter @ 8:24 PM Comments: 0

Lick Those Lips

posted by Dexter @ 12:35 PM Comments: 2

Besides Blueberry Jackfruits

Unlike the hours slowly whittling away, we found the topics never grew scarce. It’s how real friendship works, they say; that, not unlike love – real love, that is – despite the distance, you can be sure it’s always there. When you’ve finally found that moment, you brush all the skepticism aside, because at that point at least, you feel you have something that’s going to last.

It’s amazing, isn’t it? Seeing the ubiquitous thick glasses you’ve never seen for three years; else, the crisp, white jacket and toque you thought you’d never see again. There’s something decidedly surreal about that. Years, you find yourselves talking about everything, from something as trivial as losing weight, to something as complicated as politics, to something as ridiculous as operatives materializing out of thin air. Somewhat more importantly, even, you still feel connected and strangely familiar, even though in actuality, it’s really been so long. As they say, it’s as though nothing’s ever changed.

There’s always doubt, of course; but suddenly, you think that maybe, there is something about blind faith, the one that tells you its going to work, even though deep down you never believed it would. It’s a risky proposition, of course – hoping for something and (sometimes) getting nothing in return – but at least, you realize that the possibility exists; that it’s not the differences between you that would undermine what you’ve shared together, but that it’s always about your own doubts or, as Niko would put it, your own paranoia.

At least for now, the thought is enough to keep me going – the thought that someday, we’re going to see each other again.

posted by Dexter @ 1:55 PM Comments: 0

Blueberry Jackfruits

Somewhere between pesto and fish fillet, we found our voices, although we never found our own way back. She came out, smiled; she went back in. She sent something out, came back, went out and that was all.

“You were expecting something else?” Q retorted, not quite unusually quick on the uptake.

“No, I mean…”

His eyebrows shot up.

“Well, yeah, I suppose so,” I stuttered. “She’s leaving and all that, isn’t she? We never said goodbye.”

He looked at me thoughtfully. “This isn’t about closure and what-not, is it?” He smirked. “Last time you’ve been there, you found out that that wasn’t what you needed at all.”

I shrugged and said nothing, struggling to have something that would make the slightest of sense. He began finishing the jackfruit smoothie he bought a couple of corners back.

“No,” I said finally.

He put the cup down, looking at me more thoughtfully.

“You’re right,” I admitted. “It isn’t about closure.”

I sighed. “I found out what I wanted. Well, you can say I always knew what it is; but I guess it’s already too late.”

So they say cooking is an art; human relationships, if not more so. It’s complicated, I guess; there are times you pass something up for something else, and you’re suckered in only until the joke’s finally on you. While you’re too busy thinking of having something, or needing something, there’s obviously something else beneath it all. Usually, it simply becomes a matter of how long it would take to figure it out. It is how it is with sauces, with the delicate mixtures of herbs and spices that sometimes do something more beyond accentuating the flavors of the food they come with. Sometimes, if not usually, lives become the same; smiles or laughs or playful pats on the back only coming to mask the real essence of what we’ve become.

Things are scarier now – and it isn’t exactly the mutant custards we sampled back. Valediction forebodes, and yet if nothing else, I've only sat back, waiting for things to unfold for themselves as though they would. I was foolish enough once, walking away when I never wanted that at all; she was still there when I came back, although things have obviously never been the same again. I should never make that mistake again, I thought, but now it’s her turn to walk away, writing is the only excuse I have to cope. There was something else I could have done, but I never did it.

posted by Dexter @ 3:03 PM Comments: 3

Someone we know from somewhere

“Oh, but I do miss them,” I smiled wryly. “It’s just that we had to move on.”

It wasn’t unusual for the conversation to shift back to what got left behind - for he would never believe it was gone. Everyone found new stories to tell, while he would recount the ones that everyone had already forgotten about. He’d manage to talk about the ones he chanced to bump into, associate it with some memory he had from high school, choke up and get quite sentimental about it. He’d believe things will come back, although of course, they never did.

In some ways, he reminded me of myself - although I’ve never quite admitted that until now. It was way back when I’d miss high school, the people who I used to hang out with a lot, I would talk about them the same way he would. As most stories would end, I found out they didn’t feel the same way. People found new lives, and more importantly, new friends. They never came online anymore, for one, or never texted unless it was the generic greeting they would send everyone during the holidays. Sometimes, still, they didn’t even bother to greet you on Christmas or on your birthday, until after it’s one month too late.

We happened to bump into each other on the terminal before the plans finally broke down.

“Hindi ka ba talaga pupunta sa reunion, Dex,” he implored as we entered España gate.

“May pupuntahan talaga ako e. Next time?”

“Hindi mo ba sila na-mi-miss,” he prodded after that, which I answered as matter-of-factly as I could.

It never pushed through for, well, people like me who had already moved on. The proposition had only received as much as eight confirmations out of the forty plus who were invited and no more. It was postponed to January, but that didn’t work out either. I would eventually find out that even the factions that would have skipped the main party, but would have otherwise held a party of their own, never did. It would only seem that relationships have only gotten that much more divisive over the years that even those who have sworn undying friendship, at least to each other, at some point or another, have already forgotten their vows because of shifting priorities.

Sometimes, people move on; and even when they haven’t yet, one can be safely assume that, eventually, at some point in time, they will. No one knows for sure just how long we’ll get to keep the people we have right now. What we know that it is always a choice. We scrap the things that don’t work, and stick to the ones that do. Eventually, we realize, as I’m sure he would too, that we have to move on as well. Hopefully though, amidst the musings, we’ll also learn to be thankful for the people who have transcended those boundaries and chose to stay.

posted by Dexter @ 9:01 PM Comments: 0

Recourse

"So in love ka nga?

I rolled my eyes for the fifth time. "Hindi na nga! Bat ba ang kulit mo?"

People turned to look at our table, flabbergasted, perhaps, at my unsuccessful attempt to control my own temper. Q, the annoying, little twat, tried his best to apologize profusely, while I managed to get in a few deep breaths myself.

He finally went back to look at me, as the last of the scandalized diners turned away. It was his turn to roll his eyes. "E paano ba naman kase ako maniniwala sa'yo? Sabi mo nakalimutan mo na siya pero pumayag ka pa rin?"

Now that was a perfectly fair question. Why, indeed?

That Thursday night, she was there. Perhaps, I had felt a bit more forgiving, then; I figured we hadn't talked for six weeks and it was a holiday. It could have been the right thing to do, I suppose. After all, she was still her.

"Favor nga kase 'yun," I replied, remembering why we had talked that evening in the first place. She was apparently leaving for Florida, and maybe, it was because of that. It was because I knew that it may very well be our last that I naturally wanted at least one good memory for her to remember me by.

"E bat dun sa isa?" He struggled to find the name. "Ano na ule pangalan nun?"

"Kristine," I pointed out.

"O, 'yun. Bat hindi ka naman pumunta, e sa U.S.T. na lang nga 'yun e."

"Iba nga kase 'yun," I said half exasperatingly, trying to sound as honest as possible. "May pasok pa kaya ako nun. Besides, ginagawa ko pa 'yung project namin."

Isn't it funny? Just when we thought we've finally managed to move on, someone makes us realize we really haven't. Sure, we've gotten away from it since the fourteenth, boards fizzing, sparking, burning enough to keep our heads distracted but only for so long until the project's finally done. Call it propensity, my knack of resurrecting what would have otherwise been erstwhile feelings for this particular so and so, Q's nosing around which almost always had me cornered, and my inexplicably winding up in that unmistakable doctor love moment. I guess it always showed that I really hadn't moved on. Why else would I have talked to Kanny about it in the first place? Barring that, why would I ask Q what he thought about her asking me a favor.

He was winning from the start, and he realized it. "Sus, aminin mo na kase."

Maybe, just maybe, I know nothing of stoicism. It isn't that I know nothing of sacrifices, but I guess there's just that romantic hobnobbing a sentimental schmoe like me never passes up. So we thank God for favors, for fish wrapped in paper bags and tiramisu's in little cups, because that gives us the excuse to be with them even for a while.

posted by Dexter @ 8:07 PM Comments: 0