Deo's Tarp

Halloween Shmalloween. That's for the westerners! Should we even yield to this foreign culture? Sheesh.

So the days of the souls and saints is nearing and I felt obligated to replace Deo's old tarpaulin that was given to his funeral by the TriAD (Triathlon Association of Davao). Sure we can still hang it but not in the center anymore. So I gathered Deo's pictures and scanned them and opened my Adobe Photoshop CS2 and listened to a song for an inspiration to follow.

I made a very unsatisfying work for my first try. I was too pressured but I wanted to do it for him. He used to tell me to "get up, do something and make me proud". I want him to be proud of me and I know he wants to be. So I made a new one which took me 3 days to finish and now I'm more than satisfied.

I should be going by now to help my family setup stuff at Deo's grave. I'm not gonna be expecting anyone anymore. I've done that and they all broke my heart. So good riddance to them.

I can only hope that my brother would be more proud of me when I set out my future plans soon, not just on my tarp.

JO~! nothing.. XD ahlabu XD dun hit me on the hed for saying it XD

Venting Off

Do you remember your dreams in life? Your plans in the future? Your goals and your wishes? Did you ever consider the possibility of forgetting them?

Of course you'd say "How could I?" or "Are you nuts?", even I would smirk at ya for it, but believe it or not I forgot mine.

It all started when my mum asked me "What's your plan?", and my answer was "I dunno." And for a long time now, I am still dumbfounded. Out of school and jobless, I am living a lazy life.

When my mum asked me again--and this time "What do you really wanna do in your life?"--I almost wanted to say "To sing with a band", but I kept my heart and I even joked about it.

Of course, who would make a living off of music except the most talented ones? It's a selfish dream and it won't benefit my family, but deep within me you have no idea how I wanted to reach that dream. But it's foolish, so I considered going back to school. Will I even finish it?

If I go get a job, where should I begin? Even my boyfriend undermines me if I could even get a job and maintain it.

I'm trapped and I wanna pull the trigger in my head and end it all.

I sound like a fucktard, but I'm just very depressed and confused that my lil bro said, "I didn't know you were this fragile."

And somehow he's the only one who understood me in this.

Ondoy

There was a time when I was going home for the summer from Zamboanga to Davao. I was aboard in a Sulpicio Line filled with MT interns from Laguna. I talked to some and they were intrigued of how diverse Filipinos are. They met Cebuanos, Chavacanos, and Illonggos along their route. And in between the lines, they somehow undermined and discriminated them. Oh I know how they talk proudly because they speak the national language (tagalog) and actually live up north where the capital is. I even remember one dialogue from all their bragging.

Intern: But you know, if the whole Philippines would be flooded, I think Metro Manila will survive.
More Interns: (laugh) I think so too.
Me: (nods) But do you know that Davao City has never been hit by storms and typhoons? (smiles)
Intern: Really?

Now, I just smiled whenever I think about that of how surreal that was. And now, the whole Metro Manila is in flood from Ondoy's rain with streets filled with trash and mud. It was a bittersweet for me. Bitter because a calamity caused this country a tragedy. I cried hearing stories of loss, isolation, and struggle. Everything washed away by a 9-hour storm rain which is equivalent to a month of rain.

Sweet. Somehow, there's a little darkness inside me that beams through. I admit that I live luckier than the rest up north. I remember those Laguna MT interns and how Ondoy practically kissed their a$$e$ for the irony. I think it served them right and they oughtta go back to their provinces where the grass is literally greener and the air is technically fresher.

I know it's not right. I dunno why I have a little evil in me.

My primary concern though were the pets and animals. Somehow, the reports are really minor when it comes to them and I really hate it.

Pepeng has now overstayed in northern Luzon because of Quedan and more places have been flooded gravely while landslides occur almost in every major roads. All that happening while me and my family just drank tequila for 2 birthdays. Yes, I feel luckier here down south.

I'm not saying we didn't help. Of course we did. And the help is coming in great numbers for them too. But don't you think they oughtta help themselves too? I'm just looking at both sides of the coin. I just hope the victims don't get whiny and get the special treatment way over their heads.

There are still stories of loss I hear for the victims of Ondoy, and yes I feel for them. It's tragic, but we oughtta learn from this tragedy--and that is to rise up again and never give up.

Love is Dog

It's funny how it took me a really long while to realize that I never chose a Basset Hound right from the beginning.

The first time I saw Mojo was when I finally got home from my parents' one-year exile in Zamboanga City. I heard his baying bark and I instantly saw his face when he peeped through the fence along with his housemates Mocha and Chay-Chay (Mocha's daughter). I walked into the house and he instantly jumped on me and I was scared because I've never seen a purebred before.

Then Deo said that it's okay and that he's friendly.

Yep, I never chose a Basset Hound. The Basset Hound chose me and I even felt the pressure more when Deo died.

And so I took the responsibility of it and loved and cherished Mojo and even planned to continue what Deo decided before. But then I began to wonder, how could I love someone if I don't even know anything about him/her?

That took a real blow on me when Mojo was diagnosed of UTI and I had to admit him to the vet. I knew then that I have to have more knowledge. And so I did and I even learned from others as well.

Then it struck me that all this time--the care and the attention that I gave to my hounds is much more like love in a relationship. In order to love, one must know the personality of a person. In my case, the temperament of my hounds is one thing I learned by observing them everyday and everywhere they are. What's even more interesting is the fact how different each of them in a pack! They never cease to make you smile everyday.

Then, their needs. For two people in a relationship, their supply and need for love is constant in order for the relationship to work. Of course, relationships are always work. For me, their needs for nutrition and exercise are very much important. And also, tummy rubs! Teehee!

Finally, there's patience, endurance and perseverance. The will to withstand obstacles is a test of how strong their love is. In my case, my fight for their place here in the subdivision and the strong winds of unpredictable weather is my will for them.

And so with my title today, "Love is Dog."

Dog is a representation of love. If you wanna know what love is, try a dog in your home. But I was even luckier, because right from the start I didn't chose the Basset Hound. It chose me. Love chose me.

You know how good that feels? So good.

Look Up

Yeah, so I finally decided to make a new header for my blog. I added in Mocha in the picture now. After all, she is family.

I figured that this blog hasn't been able to put into full capacity just yet as I have discovered what this opportunity stands for me. To talk about our dear loved ones and onto those who had already passed is not a luxury we have. Because of our daily musings and the ever famous "job", we have neglected to see what we have right now and what was.

To remember how it was to smile with them is a memory worth for eternity. And even though I rarely believe in forever (because of a broken heart years ago), I yield my eternal time with those dear to me--in good or in bad, onto the living and those who've passed.

To see them under the earth is grief beyond I know, but to reminisce the life they lived is a memory imprinted in my heart forever. To Deo and Mocha, you will never be forgotten.

R.I.P. Mocha

Yesterday morning, we discovered the lifeless body of my ever so sweet mongrel Mocha. She was Mojo's mistress and was the first for Mojo in everything before Pazzy came.

We were not sure what caused her death. All I know that she hasn't been eating well for the past 2 days before her untimely death. I was thinking that she's gonna hold out since she's not a pure breed, therefore she has more increased chances of surviving anything than my purebreeds. I planned to buy some supplements and medicine by the weekend.

At the second day, I was really getting worried. She couldn't get up. She ate a little while still on her tummy. I was really hoping that she's gonna hold out.

We never heard her cry in pain. Silently, she passed away and I was in tears. She was only 7 years old.

For the first time, I dug the earth in our kennel to bury her. With the help of my lil brother, we only managed to dig 3 feet (the clay soil underground was heavy and it's getting really hard for us to dig deeper).

I said my apologies to her for all the sins I have done to her. She was the sweetest dog ever. I trained her to chase cats back in Cotabato. I'm gonna miss her so much. We said our prayers (I know it's too silly for others to understand why I am praying for her soul, but she is also God's creation and I value her so much) and let her rest in peace. We put a white stone on top of her grave and a stick with her collar tied tightly was hammered on the earth.

She was always there. With that, I'm gonna miss her so much. My young brother Deo will be surprised to see her up there now.

Mocha, forgive me if I wasn't able to save you. I love you so much. Rest in peace.

That Triathlon Plug

For the past few days, I've seen the commercial plugs for the Ironman 70.3 Philippines. I can't help myself but get teary-eyed whenever I see the plugs.

As you know, my late brother Jo was a triathlete and his hero was a very inspiring cyclist Lance Armstrong. Before he left this world, he was about to talk to one of the heads in his university to talk about a very rare scholarship for varsity cyclists.

I remember he showed me his medals, trophies and newspaper pictures and articles regarding the name he made for himself, but he knows it wasn't enough. That's why he wanted a scholarship.

I remember how he told me how his weakness in his every triathlon race was swimming. Cramps run in our family--may we be athletic or not, it still occurs. So yeah, it was pretty difficult for him to swim sometimes.

If he were alive, I wonder how his face would look like when he sees that triathlon plug. Would he smile and get excited and guess around with us who among his friends would join the race? Or would he frown and raise his eyebrow like he would do so as to spread his sarcasm over us and tell us that he's far from qualified to race?

And that's when I'd hold back my tears because I wouldn't know how he would react if he knows about that triathlon plug. How would I know? He's not here anymore.

And because of that.... I dunno. He'd always surprise us. It's already been 2 years and I really wish that he is still alive to even make a try on that race so that at least for once I'd get the chance to see him race.

I just miss him so much... I wish... I wish... I wish he's still alive because it's great to be alive... But what can I do? I can only wish so hard and end up with nothing but tears.