In my sky at twilight you are a cloud
and your form and colour are the way I love them.
You are mine, mine, woman with sweet lips
and in your life my infinite dreams live.

The lamp of my soul dyes your feet.
My sour wine is sweeter on your lips,
oh reaper of my evening song,
how solitary dreams believe you to be mine!

You are mine, mine, I go shouting it to the afternoon’s
wind, and the wind hauls on my widowed voice.
Huntress of the depths of my eyes, your plunder
stills your nocturnal regard as though it were water.

You are taken in the net of my music, my love,
and my nets of music are wide as the sky.
My soul is born on the shore of your eyes of mourning.
In your eyes of mourning the land of dreams begins.

Pablo Neruda

EP1 : PANIC!

Panic ensued as a stray cat found its way inside the bank today. The cat, having received a considerable sum in availing of its 4^th life insurance benefit from dying in a fireworks exhibit yesterday at the Lunar New Year, was unable to reach for the deposit slips as it made its way into the branch. In a fit of rage, it terrorized one of the relationship managers at the bank and, forcing her to leave her desk, occupied one of the filing cabinets next to her.

Having just recovered from its fourth death, the estranged cat was unable to distinguish between a clear glass wall and an unblocked path. It jumped incessantly at the window, clawing at the glass trying to exit after its most unsatisfying banking attempt was met with failure. Yet all its attempts were met with failure as well, not to mention the sensation of polished tiled floors as it slid on its back during the landing of every jump. Distraught and melancholic, it rested once more on the filing cabinet. A sudden realization crept inside its mind: a new strategy should be in order.

Moments later, the jumping ensued.

Its eyes lit up at the implausibility and alien nature of the invisible barrier before him.

Two brave souls, the company janitors, armed with a most innocent and unassuming brown envelope and an eloquent arsenal of clever hisses and whistles, took the challenge to rid the branch of the infernal feline once and for all. Much to their horror, after attempting communication through their system of “cat calls”, their attempts were met by the ice-cold stare of a feline, who, in all probability, was as bewildered as they were. The cat’s eyes swept through their faces: discerning, questioning, mocking them.

The brown envelope, for all its innocence, only increased their confusion. And after a few moments, once more…

The cat jumped again.

“Feral beast!” one exclaimed as the two fled. To re-assess, no doubt. To re-evaluate! Clearly, what was before them was more than a simpleton easily ensnared by hisses, whistles, and irregular motions of brown paper envelopes, as far as the innocent ones go.

Lo! A few minutes of respite and they return! Armed with a six foot pole and a large cardboard box. Ah for the spirit of chivalry is far from dead within these walls! With lance and shield do these two brave souls face the dragon in its keep.

With caution the knights poked the cat, slowly shifting its weight towards the edge of the filing cabinet. The cat only stung them with its thousand yard stare. Seconds later the cat plummeted to the waxed floor, cowering in fear at the corner between the cabinet and the glass. The second knight advanced, box in hand, slowly closing in on the cat. Onlookers stood, checks and deposit slips dangling by their fingers, gazing at the spectacle with totally unremarkable expressions.

After some tense moments and curses from our knights, the infamous feline had been finally captured and held now inside its cardboard prison. Triumphant, one of our knights shoved the box along the floor and out through the door.

The smell of the cat remained, however, its damp, furry musk permeating the walls of the financial castle. But after a round of complaints and whining, everyone was back at their task as if nothing happened.

Thus concludes this week’s episode from the Diary of a Teller. Stay tuned next Tuesday for more exhilarating episodes of boredom and the mundane. Au revoir!

***

Delivered at the Carmelite Church, Cebu on 7 Jan 2012

The day I heard about Daddy’s passing, I had just arrived home from work. I got home, I took off my shoes, and then my mom told me what happened. Papa had already left for Cebu and it was just my mom, Miko, and I at home. How does one prepare for news like that? Daddy has passed away. I don’t think I could describe what I felt that time. The feeling seems to escape any attempt for me to capture it in words.

Upon hearing this news, I found myself swept away by a wave of memories with Daddy. It was as if something had thrown me off my routine, forcing me to think and reflect. Like the realization of something precious that I carry with me every day was suddenly lost, and now I have to recall the events leading to that particular loss.

I remember the times when Miko and I would visit Daddy when we’re still little boys. It was in those idyllic, hot summers where we would look forward to Daddy’s special mango iced candy. He would always make a batch if he felt like it and would give one to Miko and I happily. We would spend those warm afternoons with him, eating iced candy and watching cartoons in his bedroom. I can’t remember now how old I was back then. Back then there was no age, and only us, that we were together, and that we all were alive.

Daddy did not have a penchant for the extravagant. He saw a beauty and a particular elegance in the simple and the ordinary, along with its potential to be extraordinary. Anyone who saw his toy car collection would immediately understand this attention of his to detail. He understood that the difference between the ordinary and the extraordinary was simply a matter of love. When Miko and I were in his bedroom playing with his stationery, old papers he had from Comelec, he would take a barbecue stick, a piece of paper, fold it and with the paper, now looking like a flower, fasten it to the stick. He blew into it and it would spin around like a small windmill. Miko and I still remember these pinwheels. We could remember him smiling at how it entertained us. It never occurred to us to ask him how they were done, maybe because we always wanted to see him make it for us.

In remembering these moments with Daddy, a quality of his stands out. Daddy was a quiet man. But I use the word loosely, for even in the most quiet of men can an inner voice scream and shout with a passion rarely found. When I gathered the stories about Daddy in the past few days, it became clear that it was this voice, I think, and its clarity which guided him in the choices he made.

His life was punctuated with moments of quiet. In parties he would sometimes stay in his bedroom with the aircon on, away from the noise in the living or dining room. He had a deep respect for silence. He also found a beauty in silence and gave it almost a sacred quality, something which I could relate to the most with Daddy. We might be tempted to rush in and call him withdrawn. But to be withdrawn would mean something else. It would mean to distance oneself from the world those one loves. The silence of the withdrawn aims to sever and disconnect rather than to preserve and create. To me Daddy’s silence was far from that: it was patient, preserving, and nurturing. It was a silence that, instead of severing, strengthened the bonds. That was how I’d feel whenever I would visit his room when there were parties at his house.

I’d like to paraphrase Hemingway when he said that good writers know what must be said, and that great writers know what must be left unsaid. After 82 years, Daddy now has arrived at the conclusion of the novel that is his life, of which we all play a part and a chapter. And though I was only in the last 22 years, in light of what was said and unsaid, Daddy was a great writer, and a great man. May he rest now in peace.

Is there anybody out there?

Hello dear reader, thanks for stopping by! This entry though is just a little notice that I won’t be writing here for a while…maybe indefinitely. I have many plans for 2012 one of them requires me going on a little hiatus from blogging…kind of like to focus my energies on a certain…something. I’m not sure when I’ll return but perhaps by then I can share my 2012 resolutions since I believe in jinxes and I fear if I share them at the beginning of the year, I might just place a jinx! So with that said, au revoir my dear reader! May we meet again at another time!

signing off.

I wasn’t so optimistic about Christmas this year since: (1) the holidays fell on weekends and (2) I was going to be stuck in Manila. In spite of that I still managed to work up the Christmas spirit. I have the feeling a number of people watched Love Actually again, myself included. I think why we’re all stuck on the movie is because of how it shows that Christmas is a time for love and to remind ourselves to love always. It’s funny how in the movie, almost any foolish, outrageous, or daring act of love was justified by “since it’s Christmas.”

And since it’s Christmas, I think a story is due. A story of one particular Christmas present that really moved me, and had plastered a smile on my face for the morning. The story begins with a girl, a very special girl, who I decided to give a pretty Peanuts Moleskine planner to as a Christmas present. In the weeks that followed, I got word around in the office of how hard it was to find presents for men. And when I thought about it, it was quite true! I find it almost impossible to get something my dad would want for Christmas! That being said, I sent this special girl of mine a little wishlist containing 8 books that I would really love to read for 2012.

Two days before Christmas, I received a very curious text. It was from her and it had plainly asked me if I would be okay with any book on the list. “Yup!” I quickly replied. A moment later, as the text zipped through the network, I hurriedly typed and sent another text saying that shelling out cash wasn’t necessary to make my Christmas special. I admit myself that books at Fullybooked are quite pricey, and for that moment a strange thought seemed to linger in my imagination. I thought that nothing made more sense than that age old adage, “it’s the thought that counts.” Historical data suggests that I sometimes fit into the sentimental category where a personal, sincere Christmas card would already do the trick. This seemed like one of those times. The text was sent. And in no time a reply came buzzing in that she was going to send me an e-card instead, due to my request. With that I replied with a simple, “hehe okay” and spent the rest of the day counting the hours till Christmas, waiting for that e-card.

Christmas Eve. I woke up and took a seat on the sofa to play Dragon Age 2. Two hours passed before I was interrupted by a remark made by my mom. “Is this your package?” she asked. “Package? What package? From whom?” I thought. This was clearly something unexpected so I did what every thinking person should do before facing a conundrum such as this: I paused the game.

When my mom read the name of the sender, however, the truth and the surprise hit me like a band of angry darkspawn. It was her, she sent it! It was unmistakable: I had been punk’d.

It’s fascinating how a simple surprise can make all the difference. Opening the package I found a new copy of Leo Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina translated by Richard Pevear & Larissa Volokhonsky, a roll of Kodak color film, and a handwritten note. This whole blog actually is a just big thank you to the sweetest girl in the world, Martine*, for the wonderful present!

Thank you!!!

*Pen name by her request.

*Edited on December 28

Today marks the birth of my brother, which stands in stark contrast with this encounter with death through my batchmate. No matter how far apart these things may be, the one thing that they have in common in me is how the force me to contemplate my own birth and death and that fragile space in between.

Crystal Padilla, we never met, but I wish we did. May you rest in God now.

It’s a good thing my mom goes to the misa de gallo as well. Tomorrow will be the start of the series: episode 1 of 9. I still have to think of a wish though. Just one wish. 

May we all welcome God into our hearts this Christmas season!

Logic, lucidity, clarity, and the creative faculty all fall in the thinking tasks. Tasks like these create, in every sense of the word. In thinking here, one synthesizes and analyzes factors, rearranges elements, and brings new things onto the table. The emphasis on the new forms the quintessential quality of thinking, whether it be creating a product or devising a system of operations.

Scrutiny, patience, determination, and perseverance make up the discipline side of things. There is a word in Tagalog that encapsulates the whole thing: makulit. Tasks of discipline gets things done, they give shape and form to thoughts and ideas. They make them real and tangible. In a way these tasks require a little creativity not in the strictly creative sense but more like cunning and resourcefulness in order to accomplish certain objectives.

To get big, it seems you only need to master these two things. Then again, all I’ve been doing for the past three months at work basically is just following instructions. I’m a compiler being fed commands and code to translate into output. Do this, do that, send this, send that. Oh don’t forget about this, make sure to fix that. Please see to that, remember to take care of this. It’s annoying really, if I think about it. But then again, in the grander scheme of things, maybe it’s some greater force doing the good ol’ Miyagi Wax-On, Wax-Off on me. If that’s the case, then woah. Some major re-evaluation is order. 

“My dear Maximilien,

…Tell the angel who will watch over your life to pray now and then for a man who, like Satan, believed himself for an instant to be equal to God, but who realized in all humility that supreme power and wisdom are in the hands of God alone.

As for you, Maximilien, here is the secret of my conduct toward you: there is neither happiness nor unhappiness in this world; there is only the comparison of one state with another. Only a man who has felt ultimate despair is capable of feeling ultimate bliss. It is necessary to have wished for death, Maximilien, in order to know how good it is to live.

Live, then, and be happy, beloved children of my heart, and never forget that, until the day God deigns to reveal the future to man, the sum of all human wisdom will be contained in these two words: Wait and hope.

Your friend,

EDMOND DANTES

Count of Monte Cristo”

This was the letter at the end of that great story. There’s so much meat here that I don’t even know where to start! So I’ll just leave the letter there and let your imagination do the rest, dear reader. I definitely have to read this one again next year. I especially love that lesson at the end: to wait and to hope. And it’s really beautiful also that saying goodbye in French carries with it a bit of waiting and hoping too: Au revoir!

In college we called it a holiday. It’s kind of odd though calling a holiday for yourself when you get a job. It felt so different from grade school and college. In grade school when I’d stay home for the day, the feeling was like: YES THE WORLD IS MINE *FAMICOM*! In college after declaring a holiday and cutting all my classes, the feeling was like: oh shiiiit, this is gonna be awesome! hope there’s no quiz! And now when I’m working it feels like: ah crap, this is going to be taken out of my salary. Yep, that was my first reaction. However, in the words of Sheryl Crow, the first cut is the deepest. Sooner or later take a day off due to sickness won’t feel that significant. In all instances of cutting, no money is flowing in anyway so now I don’t really see the difference.

Though for today, two very good friends kept me company:

Yep, Vicks Vaporub and Alexandre Dumas. When the nostrils are clogged, taking a whiff of Vicks feels like being gassed by Mentos. I don’t really know how the smell goes through but when it does, it feels like a miracle! As for Dumas, it’s my second read with The Count of Monte Cristo and I’m still gripped by the story. Edmond Dantés and the little character of Abbé Faria continue to be among my favorites. It makes you wonder what would you do in his shoes. Dantés was a man with unparalleled wealth. His life, despite being swept by the wills of others, seemed to follow some kind of direction and purpose determined by himself.  He had an objective and he devoted his whole self to the fulfillment of that objective. It was this self-direction and purpose that really got me from the start. He said he had three things to look out for when it comes to his objective: time, distance, and death (apparently he already had the money). Time and distance could be overcome by perseverance so that left death as his only enemy. How often do we see or hear of that nowadays?

Late in the afternoon after an hour of Mass Effect 2, work somehow followed me home. I had to call someone in the IT department at work to clarify things. The conversation was entertaining:

Me: *dials number*

*rings*

L: “Hello, IT.”

“Hello L—–, si Doods ‘to!”

“Doods! Where are you??”

Phones at work usually show the number of the caller, probably for people to know if they’re important enough to pick up. Since I was at home, my home number appeared. It was a real stroke of luck I made through. Then again, she probably felt sorry since I wouldn’t hang up until she picked up.

“Oh I didn’t come to work today, I’m sick. I’m calling from home.”

“Really?? So shouldn’t you be on vacation, resting?”

“I wish!”

*joint laughter*

What ensued after was just some technical talk regarding programming for a certain promo. I found it funny that the conversation was actually casual. To think this person kept giving me headaches in the past, it was funny that that was the first laugh I heard from the other end. The whole banana reminds me of a Marlowe quote, “It lies not in our power to love or hate, for will in us is overruled by fate.” Yup and for some reason fate crossed our paths to work together on this crazy promo which I have to launch next month!