The Boy Who Cried “Let’s Hang Out!”

My Symphony: Something Here / Day Wave

Growing up is strange in that the people you used to hang out with everyday begin to gradually but steadily diminish into faces without names, and names without faces. Hours of deep, meaningful conversations at the football field have turned into minuscule scroll-down glimpses on Facebook. Countless heart-to-hearts have deteriorated into the most casual of “what’s up’s” and “hello’s”.

Who are we? Or, I guess, the more appropriate and less ambitious question is, who were we?

We were once kids, who (without doubts or hesitation) would knock on each other’s doors at two in the morning just because. We were once kids, who unconsciously spent more time with each other than with anyone else, on a daily basis. We were kids who drank their first beers together, smoked their first cigarettes together, and lived through their first heartaches and heartbreaks together.

Perhaps friendships are just naturally more challenging as we age. Back in high school, everything was just easy. We were in the same school, in the same classes, liking the same things, sharing the same goals (mostly consisted of passing Physics and submitting our Research papers on time). Some were even living on the same street, talking about the same trends, listening to the same music. ‘Follow’ meant literally following each other around school during lunch, recess and dismissal, ‘Like’ literally meant liking each other for and despite all his/her flaws and imperfection. ‘Friends’ literally meant people you cry with one second and laugh with the next. Life was a series of sleepovers, unplanned Saturday afternoons at the mall, secrets involving crushes and mortal enemies, and the usual horsing around over fishballs and ice crumbles.

But growing up has changed all of that. Hanging out is now a super-conscious decision you have to make. You don’t just happen to be in the same vicinity with your friends all the time. A mere meet-up for coffee takes a lot of scheduling, rescheduling and compromising. Nothing is as easy as it was. Now, you actually have to really want to see someone in order for you to afford the time and energy (and sometimes money) that it takes to meet with someone.

And this is exactly why friendships in this stage of our lives are the most important: these are now the friendships we choose to have, the friendships we choose to keep; the relationships we decide are gonna progress and develop into something larger and realer as the years go by. We no longer share our deepest darkest secrets to just everyone in our circle, and in the rare event that we have a sleepover, it isn’t just high school buddies passing time anymore; it’s like-minded souls mutually sharing in each other’s worlds, exchanging thoughts and ideas, basking in the light and warmth of a presence which, although rarely present, will always be genuine. We stopped being kids hanging out, and started becoming human beings connecting.

I love you, dear friends.

P.S. Let’s not be strangers…

Almost Miserable

My Tune: Cartwheels by The Reindeer Section

As apparent and as cliche’ as it already is, people actually make sense everytime they say there’s always a rainbow after the rain. I mean, can there ever be a rainbow, to be exact a shimmering and glittering piece of rainbow only nature can offer, before raining? I’m pretty certain there can be none.

October 16, 2009

It was a seemingly gloomy Friday night. The trees bent as chilly winds danced through their olive green leaves while the open sky was obviously rather deserted, abandoned, as evident with countless presences… or lack thereof, in my school’s football field. It was visible that the night tended to be cynical. And by “cynical” I actually meant “dangerous”.

47 minutes before this night I am talking about showed up, I persuaded Brenda to come with me photocopy a few pages of one of the books of one of the subjects I really hate: Bookkeeping (or, for a more general sense, Accounting). After the entire process of reproducing pages of “nonsense”, I came to see a jar of luring delicacies. I decided to grab a couple of Polvoron— one for myself, and the other one for Brenda, who kept me company in that boring moment in time. While the giving and receiving process was being done, I can remember that I lost track of everything. We rushed out of the place in no time and went back to school to hit some chat and grab some more snacks. About 19 minutes later, I felt that my body was light, like I was naked. I mean, I usually feel so loaded as I normally have with me a wrist watch, a couple of necklaces, a baller, belt and buckle, my cellphone and a fancy pen in my right pocket and a handkerchief and my wallet in my left pocket. But that time, I felt like I wasn’t even wearing anything. Not even a good ‘ole piece of tissue paper. It was then that I realized that, well, I lost (almost) my wallet for the third stinking time!

You can guess if I’m badly materialistic or superficial but I won’t take yes for an answer. You see, not to mention that that wallet would have been the third one to vanish, there are already sentiments that go with those black leather “stuff”.

It’s not just the whole wallet thing which almost got me insane. It’s also the fact that I never failed to see that I lost so many things and people in my life already. I just lost my mentor’s affection, I lost a couple of pricey phones, a couple of valuable wallets, a pair of jeans, a pair of school pants, a couple of pairs of sunglasses, and what’s worse? I believe I just lost countless of people both living and dead. Now how’s that for a disaster? That Friday night, I told everyone I was able to see that I am a loser. Not in a humiliating and degrading kind of way, but I am a loser. You get the point, right? I am a loser because I lost so many great and memorable things and people in my life in just like a span of hours.

I just couldn’t stand the fact that I was about to transfer school, even quit school, because of all of these misfortune and unfairness of reality.

But when Rean and Chyanne told me that I need someone, someone who’ll take care of me, watch over me and be by my side to memorize my every move, every word, every heartbeat, I suddenly felt the drift. I suddenly realized that I should let other poeple take a way into my heart. Maybe this was the reason why I was becoming so panicky and wrong lately. Maybe it was because I was desperately trying hard to convince myself that I could face the world alone without anyone else; that I could manage life without love; that I could still be sane and carefree while everything and everyone else is on a riot; that I could stay bitter when things are unstoppably turning sweet and delicious. I was wrong. I couldn’t. It was obvious. I am not born to be alone.

But alone I am. Oh jeez! What a lame presumption. I am not alone. I just proudly choose to be alone sometimes. Oh! Why do I keep on saying that I am alone and then affirm that I am not afterwhich? I guess this is because I am becoming challenged.

Mentally challenged.

Socially challenged.

Emotionally challenged.

Logically challenged.

Spiritually challenged.

Behaviorally challenged.

Uhmmm. What else? Challengingly challenged!

But like what I said, it’s not all the time that one has to suffer. There will always be a happy ending in every episode of misery.

Phoebe.

Jerome.

Rikki.

Shirley.

Hyndie.

Tita Alma.

Tita Elvie.

Tita Elena.

That was just fun out there (or shall I say, in there? Haha). SIBEERIA was definitely off the hook. What happens in Sibeeria, stays in Sibeeria.

That was one of the best rocking nights ever.

So, I guess, this episode of my life may be named as THE WINNING LOSER.

(*evil laugh…)

Now here’s hoping for a triumphant sizzling next episode.

POST SCRIPT…

I never thought I’d say this, but… I am quite in a nostalgia lately. I miss Ybarzabal Council. I wish, one of these days, we’ll get back to the way we guys used to be— like a brotherhood. =(