So it's Friday night and it's raining as I walk to the bus station. My roommate calls to say that he's in Encore and there's an open bar and he can get me in and would I like to join him and I say yes because what else do you say to that? And then five minutes later I change my mind and decide to go to my old dorm because it's that time of year again when we welcome the freshmen. My time is already * years past but as I watch them dance around the bonfire to the beat of Brigada's drums my body remembers and my blood quickens and I am taken back to when I was precious and innocent. (Why is calfskin so smooth? Because the calves are innocent when they die.) I'm calloused now, I'm too old, I've almost forgotten why these kids are so happy. This makes me sad but only for a while, because my friends are here and we're in C- and sitting at the table beside us is a boy. This is a boy who ran for the student council but lost, a boy who is reasonably attractive, a boy who is gay, a boy who has a girlfriend. I watch him watch the World Cup (Brazil vs Portugal) while I smoke. Then more friends appear and these guys are bros but they're not really my bros. We talk about a lot of shit and drink a lot of beer and before I know it I'm slurring my words and showing them the picture on my phone that I treasure most. The picture is of me and Andi Eigenmann and I have it because I like watching Agua Bendita but mainly so that I can show it off to the bros. And they all nod in appreciation at the picture and Mon playfully punches me in the shoulder 'you lucky dog' and Francis gives me a high five and Rob asks me if I've shaped up and decided to not be gay anymore. I just shrug and say, "no eh, I'm still gay", and I wink at Francis because it is him who cares the most about my being gay. We've kissed before. Then we move on to other shit and maybe I fall asleep for a bit or maybe I go to McDonalds to buy fries or maybe not, I'm not really thinking anymore. When 5am comes around my feet take me home on autopilot.
I find myself on the doorstep of the house I used to share with Santiago and his sister. I try ringing him but he doesn't answer. I knock on the door lightly because I don't want to disturb the neighbors. Nothing. I try ringing him again and I think I might be growing hysterical, or at least as hysterical as one can be when drunk and sleepy, and I imagine that I just might go to sleep on the doorstep. That doesn't really bother me. Thankfully, when I knock again Kay opens the door and I say good morning and it's been so long since we've seen each other and I'm glad she's awake. Then I promptly fall on the bed and doze off. When I wake up a few hours later Kay is watching Barney and Robin try not to have the talk. I ask her if she's gotten any sleep and she tells me that she's been busy packing up her stuff. And then I realize that I am lying on her bed and that probably explains why she's still awake. OMG what have I done? But it's okay, she's not mad at me, in fact she gives me some of the chocolate she's eating and we waste the rest of the morning watching TV. In the afternoon, Kay's friend comes around to take her stuff to her new apartment. We help a bit but he does most of the carrying. When that's done, Santiago and I go to the bayanCenter in Diliman to have their DSL disconnected. We get lost for a bit in Teacher's Village and that's where I realize that almost a year ago to the day (give or take a few weeks) we were lost in the same place on our way to apply for a DSL connection.
Talk about coming full circle. And then I realize how different I am now from the unemployed, hopeful, excited boy I was back then. I mean, I'm still unemployed, hopeful, and excited but I'm no longer a boy anymore. Just kidding. I am employed but hopeful and excited, not so much. I've been feeling very detached lately. I think reality is getting me down. Like this morning, I was at the corner of Shaw and EDSA waiting for the pedestrian light to turn green and while I stood there these huge buses came barrelling past and some of them would honk real fucking loud and it made me feel angry a bit but mostly I just felt a sense of resigned defeat. I need to go to sleep and start dreaming again.
Tuesday
Friday
On vegetable porridge
For breakfast I make oatmeal porridge (115 calories per 30g serving) because rolled oats are good for my health but mainly because I like the taste of oatmeal. The only problem I have with it is the texture, I am quite fussy about the consistency I like and it has to be just the right kind of thick. Mostly I follow the proportions recommended on the packaging, in this case 1:3, but in this case the porridge ends up runny. This makes me sad, but not for long. I just leave it in the rice cooker for a while longer and fuckit if the bottom burns, my sister will scrape that off later.
So five minutes, 1tbsp of sugar, and a splash of milk later, my oatmeal is ready, it is smelling good and begging for me to eat it. I am only too willing. While eating, I am reminded of when I was a young child, and never liked to eat my vegetables. Fortunately for me my mom is adventurous in the kitchen and one day she accidentally blended my dinner - vegetables, rice, and all - into a porridge. And you can guess that this porridge still tasted like vegetables but I didn't care about the taste, what I didn't like was the weird shapes and textures of the vegetables in my mouth. Even today I still can't eat okra, which is odd considering what I'm willing to put in my mouth. I'm so fucken dirty.
Anyway, back to the vegetable porridge story, well my mom made me eat that shit all the time. She even packed it in my lunch one day and that's where this story begins. Because you see this porridge did look like shit. It was green and gooey and unless it was force-fed to you, you wouldn't want to eat it. Well there I was, twelve-year-old me, sitting in the cafeteria. I open my red Spidey lunchbox, take out the Tupperware, open the lid and find a goopy, dark green mess. I look around the table and my classmates are happily taking out porkchops, fried chicken, and all sorts of real food from their boxes. I can feel my cheeks heating and my lips start to tremble. I was a crybaby then and I'm still a crybaby now. But I don't cry just yet, I try to suck it up like a little man and I start spooning the porridge into my mouth as fast as I can because maybe if I finish fast enough no one will notice what I'm eating. Wrong. Little mister nosey sitting across me can't mind his own business and asks me what I'm eating. I tell him it's vegetable porridge. He begs to disagree. I am eating shit he says. Green, runny shit. My ears turn red but I try to ignore him and keep on eating. Drew is eating shit, the little sucker announces to the whole table. Everyone turns to look at me and I can't stand it anymore, I can feel the tears escaping my eyes. I pick up my Tupperware and get up and everyone thinks I'm running away to some little corner but I'm not going to do that, what I'm doing is I'm walking over to mister fuckface and I fling the porridge in his face.
Then the rage flees and I'm standing there incredulous at what I've done and I don't know what I'm thinking but as my classmate is standing up, I grab his face and start to lick it clean. He's surprised by this but after a while, he's starting to enjoy, he even puts his arms around my back and presses my body to his. I can feel his pre-pubescent dick slowly harden as he rubs the front of his crotch against mine. Ooops wrong story.
What really happens is that after I fling the porridge in his face, he wipes it off with his arm, gets up, and throws a suckerpunch at me. I should have expected this but I'm unready, I'm just standing there with the empty Tupperware in my hand as his fist connects with my stomach. I drop the container in my surprise and my hands, finding themselves freed, take on a mind of their own and return the favor. He trips over a chair and falls on the floor and I think to myself, wow, it's over that fast. A smile is forming on my face when he grabs at my legs and pulls me down with him and now we're wrestling on the floor and I start to get hard and as we're rolling around I can feel that he's hard too. I look at his face and he's really mad at me but there's a glint in his eyes and a curl in his lips that tells me he's having fun too. I grab at his ass (and an admirably full ass it is), my fingers purposely close to his hole and this makes him squirm in delight. Fucken shit wrong story again.
What really really happens is that after I fling the porridge in his face, he wipes it off with his arm, gets up, and throws a suckerpunch at me. I double over in pain and then I run away to some little corner to cry like the fucken sissy that I am.
So five minutes, 1tbsp of sugar, and a splash of milk later, my oatmeal is ready, it is smelling good and begging for me to eat it. I am only too willing. While eating, I am reminded of when I was a young child, and never liked to eat my vegetables. Fortunately for me my mom is adventurous in the kitchen and one day she accidentally blended my dinner - vegetables, rice, and all - into a porridge. And you can guess that this porridge still tasted like vegetables but I didn't care about the taste, what I didn't like was the weird shapes and textures of the vegetables in my mouth. Even today I still can't eat okra, which is odd considering what I'm willing to put in my mouth. I'm so fucken dirty.
Anyway, back to the vegetable porridge story, well my mom made me eat that shit all the time. She even packed it in my lunch one day and that's where this story begins. Because you see this porridge did look like shit. It was green and gooey and unless it was force-fed to you, you wouldn't want to eat it. Well there I was, twelve-year-old me, sitting in the cafeteria. I open my red Spidey lunchbox, take out the Tupperware, open the lid and find a goopy, dark green mess. I look around the table and my classmates are happily taking out porkchops, fried chicken, and all sorts of real food from their boxes. I can feel my cheeks heating and my lips start to tremble. I was a crybaby then and I'm still a crybaby now. But I don't cry just yet, I try to suck it up like a little man and I start spooning the porridge into my mouth as fast as I can because maybe if I finish fast enough no one will notice what I'm eating. Wrong. Little mister nosey sitting across me can't mind his own business and asks me what I'm eating. I tell him it's vegetable porridge. He begs to disagree. I am eating shit he says. Green, runny shit. My ears turn red but I try to ignore him and keep on eating. Drew is eating shit, the little sucker announces to the whole table. Everyone turns to look at me and I can't stand it anymore, I can feel the tears escaping my eyes. I pick up my Tupperware and get up and everyone thinks I'm running away to some little corner but I'm not going to do that, what I'm doing is I'm walking over to mister fuckface and I fling the porridge in his face.
Then the rage flees and I'm standing there incredulous at what I've done and I don't know what I'm thinking but as my classmate is standing up, I grab his face and start to lick it clean. He's surprised by this but after a while, he's starting to enjoy, he even puts his arms around my back and presses my body to his. I can feel his pre-pubescent dick slowly harden as he rubs the front of his crotch against mine. Ooops wrong story.
What really happens is that after I fling the porridge in his face, he wipes it off with his arm, gets up, and throws a suckerpunch at me. I should have expected this but I'm unready, I'm just standing there with the empty Tupperware in my hand as his fist connects with my stomach. I drop the container in my surprise and my hands, finding themselves freed, take on a mind of their own and return the favor. He trips over a chair and falls on the floor and I think to myself, wow, it's over that fast. A smile is forming on my face when he grabs at my legs and pulls me down with him and now we're wrestling on the floor and I start to get hard and as we're rolling around I can feel that he's hard too. I look at his face and he's really mad at me but there's a glint in his eyes and a curl in his lips that tells me he's having fun too. I grab at his ass (and an admirably full ass it is), my fingers purposely close to his hole and this makes him squirm in delight. Fucken shit wrong story again.
What really really happens is that after I fling the porridge in his face, he wipes it off with his arm, gets up, and throws a suckerpunch at me. I double over in pain and then I run away to some little corner to cry like the fucken sissy that I am.
Thursday
On letting go
Today at the office I interview two potential sales assistants. The second one passes with flying colors. The first one is a wreck right from the start. This girl is very nervous and scared of me and she can't stop tapping her feet or wringing her hands. She's treating this interview like a cross-examination and her answers come out all wrong and even after I try to put her at her ease she just can't relax. I give her lots of chances because I can see that she's a good person, a person who needs this job, but she doesn't make it. My heart breaks when I tell her that we're done and she can go home. After that I have to let go of another sales assistant, a girl who I know, a girl who spent a whole week sitting beside me while I oriented her on our products and how to sell them. She was supposed to be at the exhibit last Friday and Saturday but she didn't show up and this does not sit well with my boss so he asks me to tell her not to come back. What only I know is that it was my fault, I forgot to text her the schedule on Thursday and only managed to do so on Friday. And then I try to make myself feel better by thinking that I did text her the schedule after all and she still should have showed up on Saturday. And she didn't. And she didn't even reply to my text on Friday. So it's not really my fault. But even as I rationalize my guilt away the fact that I'm doing so is an indictment in itself.
Wednesday
On Tuesday night
We leave work early today because my officemates have to catch Karate Kid at 6.30. The tickets are free (c/o my boss) but I don't go with them because I won't enjoy their company but mainly because I'm still feeling unwell. Also, I don't have any money. I have like 58 pesos in my pocket and that's just enough for dinner. I hate being poor. I check my bank account to see if mom sent me some money like she said she would yesterday. She didn't. I have like 288 pesos in the bank and I try to take out the 200 but it won't fucking let me. The receipt tells me that 200 is "less than the minimum withdrawal amount" so I tell the receipt to go fuck itself and tear it up. As I'm walking from the bank to EDSA I'm feeling mad. I'm feeling mad and also a bit sad. I'm sad because I'm sick and I'm poor and I should be watching Karate Kid for free but I'm not. I don't want to go to the cinema and not have money to buy popcorn or a Blizzard from Dairy Queen. When I was in college I always had a Blizzard whenever I watched a movie. I always get one of the chocolate flavors. I haven't had a Blizzard in a long time but I won't get one now. Firstly because I've a sore throat and secondly because I don't have any fucking money.
When I get to Megamall it's very very noisy. Like I'm trying to concentrate all my energy on just making it home because each step makes me feel the tiredness in my body. But the buses aren't helping they're honking so insistently and it's so fucking loud like someone put a trumpet to my ear and blew on it. It's an insistent in your face sound that I can't get rid of and I wonder if it would go away if I close my eyes. So I close my eyes and it does help. I'm walking with my eyes closed and it doesn't matter that I can't see where I'm going because I can feel the people, their energy is stamped on my eyelids like neon and I'm floating through them. I'm walking with my eyes closed and I almost walk into traffic luckily I bump into a couple walking by. The man throws me a dirty look so I throw him my winningest smile but he's already walked past me and I'm smiling at nothing.
I change tack and try walking with my stoic face. My stoic face is expressionless, jaws clenched, teeth grinding, and a blank glassy stare. The jaws part is pretty easy, I can feel that throbbing on my cheeks that happens when I clench my teeth but I'm not sure if I pull off the eyes part. Maybe I do because I see people who meet my stare recoil. They quickly avert their eyes as if they'd just seen me naked. Maybe they have.
When I get to Megamall it's very very noisy. Like I'm trying to concentrate all my energy on just making it home because each step makes me feel the tiredness in my body. But the buses aren't helping they're honking so insistently and it's so fucking loud like someone put a trumpet to my ear and blew on it. It's an insistent in your face sound that I can't get rid of and I wonder if it would go away if I close my eyes. So I close my eyes and it does help. I'm walking with my eyes closed and it doesn't matter that I can't see where I'm going because I can feel the people, their energy is stamped on my eyelids like neon and I'm floating through them. I'm walking with my eyes closed and I almost walk into traffic luckily I bump into a couple walking by. The man throws me a dirty look so I throw him my winningest smile but he's already walked past me and I'm smiling at nothing.
I change tack and try walking with my stoic face. My stoic face is expressionless, jaws clenched, teeth grinding, and a blank glassy stare. The jaws part is pretty easy, I can feel that throbbing on my cheeks that happens when I clench my teeth but I'm not sure if I pull off the eyes part. Maybe I do because I see people who meet my stare recoil. They quickly avert their eyes as if they'd just seen me naked. Maybe they have.
When I get to Libertad I start thinking about what I should have for dinner. I can stop by one of the cafeterias and blow all of my money on one meal but that won't be so smart because I don't know if my sister's gonna pay me back tomorrow and I can't make it through the day without something to eat in the morning. Crackers from the office pantry don't count. I decide that it's better to buy canned tuna instead. I love tuna anyway. It might even get a Superbod from eating lots of canned tuna, like the commercials say. That's something I so desperately want to believe in but I know it's not true. It's a lie, just like everything else advertising trys to sell you. Advertising is just so fucking fucked up I so want to believe that some of what I see on TV is true but it never is. Whenever I give up my trust I inevitably get shafted, like when I had really bad dandruff so I switched to Clear but the dandruff didn't go away. So is the lesson here never to trust anyone? Wrong. Just don't trust your TV. You can trust Google and Wikipedia but not all the time.
At the supermarket I debate buying corned tuna or afritada-flavored tuna. 330g of afritada tuna costs 22 pesos while corned tuna is 24.75 pesos so guess what I buy. Yeah, I have no more money but I buy two cans of the corned tuna because hey, I've never tried this before, and also, fuckit, if my sister still won't pay me back tomorrow then I'm just gonna suck it up and be sad about not having anything to eat. So I go and pay for the tuna and as usual I tell the lady at the counter not to put it in a plastic bag (yes folks, please get in the habit of refusing those plastic bags. I mean come on, you've got your bag with you, and what you're buying will fit just right in there. what do you need the plastic bag for anyway? to contribute to the number of birds dying because they choked on plastic bags floating in the sea?) and since I don't have a plastic bag I just hold on to them for the rest of the walk home. I don't think that looks weird at all.
When I get home I get some rice going in the rice cooker and it ended up burnt as usual. But before the rice ends up burnt, while it's still cooking, I have a smoke, I wash a shirt for tomorrow, I have a beer, and I try to write this down. And then the rice is done and I put the tuna on top for a bit and then I have dinner.
Corned tuna tastes like regular fucking tuna.
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