Angel Project

My inspiration is taking flight!

Artemis had shot me another inspiration, Father. And now, I am currently working on another project. This one is called "Angel Project" and angels will be the central theme of the stories. Currently, I had finished the first story, and I am almost done with the second story. I don't know how long this will last, but I will take advantage of it and finish maybe 2 more.

Once I got done with this draft, I "might" move on and make them into one-shot comics and sell them at the next anime convention... I really wish I'd get this one finished. It would be a real waste if I won't be able to.

I want to be a mangaka, father. And I'm going to prove to the world that I could become one.

Hazy Moons and Twin Stars

6:21:07

Just like my happiness that night, you felt so near... yet remained so far...

Last Sunday evening, I had a long chat with him, father. You know who I am talking about. Him. The guy I really liked. I got his phone number a long time ago and I had been calling him from time to time ever since.

It’s been about 1 month since I last spoke to him, and since last week, something had constantly nudged me to get the phone and call him. I did what instinct told me to do, and called him.

After the casual “Hello’s” and “How are you’s?”, the topic kept revolving on my work and his quest for his perfect job. He still hasn’t got one, after all these months. He’s applied to every company he is fascinated with, and almost all of them gave a negative reply. He still doesn’t have a job, and he isn’t expecting any either, so he’s back to his job search once more.

He did not talk of anything else but work, work, work.

It really bored me, father. Especially since I’m interested in what he’s been doing besides looking for a job. I kept on steering the conversation away from it, but it seems that it was the only thing he could talk about.

Yesterday, though, I had another strange experience.

It was a hazy half moon last night, and my emotions were as hazy as the moon. All throughout the day, it bothered me that it was already June 21. it felt that I forgot to do something, or that I missed someone’s birthday. And all the while my thoughts would end up back to one person. Him.

When I looked up to the moon, I thought of him, and it makes me wonder if he ever thought of me the same way. He knows how fascinated I am with the moon and the stars, and I had shared hundreds of starry nights with him. I was the one who told him the story of the Three Kings, a.k.a Orion’s Belt, about the Ursa Minor, the easiest constellation to spot. We both spotted what I named were “Twin Stars”, since they were two stars placed so close together, there is barely a space between the two of them. (Nowadays I don’t see Twin Stars anymore.)

My heart skips a beat as I mesmerize at the half moon, thinking back to the starry nights we shared and the moonlit paths we walked on. It seems that though I vowed to forget and finally get over him, it will be as hard as taking the stars from the sky.

Happy Father's Day

06:17:07

You brought the ramen... right?

The whole world is celebrating it, and the mass media is just filled with the holiday's spirit. But there was one commercial in particular that moved me, and brought up a lot of questions and hidden desires about having a father.

It was Unilab's recent Bioflu commercial. In that commercial, and old man with a large build came in the room where a young man lay crumpled under his blanket, perspiring heavily. He came over to the young man's side and asked, "Anak,Kamusta na lagnat mo?" (translates as: "Son, How's your fever?"). "Mataas pa rin po, Pa, At ang sakit pa ng katawan ko." (My temperature's still high, and my body is starting to ache.") "Heto, mag-Bioflu ka." (Here, take some Bioflu). The father hands the medicine and watches his son take it. Then, he lay beside him on the bed and tucked him in, gently patting him on his butt and humming a low lullaby to make him fall asleep. The following scene continues the humming, but only the father is still asleep in the bed. His son had already worn his uniform and is preparing himself to go to work.

The commercial itself was simple, and very timely for Father's Day. (And I'm sure there will be some people who was encouraged to buy the medication in the future.) If I find out how, I will post a copy of the TV commercial here so you will see it.

But what struck me most was the father's care over his sick son.

Father, I have been sick a lot of times before, and I still buy medicines that range from P500-P2000, (sometimes all at the same time) just to get me back up on my feet again. As I grow up, I seldom get sick, but when I do, it's one that is sure to pin me down on my bed for days. Perhaps you know that I have asthma, father. Though I get attacks less and less this year because I was experiencing less stress than when I was still in school, I still have to keep on buying Symbicort and Ventolin from time to time to regulate these attacks. When I was a child, I was inflicted with all sorts of maladies, from fever (psychosomatic or not), to coughs, from sore eyes to jaundice, from allergy to skin asthma, All of this I suffered. All of this I endured. All of this, with only my mother by my side. And I lived long, long enough to create this blog dedicated to letters for you.

Where were you, father, when I was young and gasping for breath, having a near death experience and waking up not knowing that I fell asleep in the first place? Where were you, when I was throwing up everything I ate and could barely keep myself awake? Where were you, father, when I woke up in the middle of the night because I couldn't breathe and I almost had a heart attack? Where were you, father, when I got my teeth pulled out by the dentist because they were too rotten? Where were you, father, when a nerve in my feet got so painful, that I was worried I wouldnt be able to enroll myself? Where were you, father?

Did you know, father, that when I was experiencing all this, I had been wishing that they would bring me to the hospital, or that I end up dead? Because maybe if I died you would come home and be regretful and never leave my side again. I was desperate, father, to know if someone else cared for my existence. It was something that constantly haunts my being everyday.

These were not the only things I used to think about when I was a child.

I used to think about how you spend your FAther's day, all alone and out at sea. I wonder if you keep in your wallet the picture of me during my JS prom in your wallet and show it to all of your friends or look at it whenever you felt lonely? How would you react, father, if you knew that I've been practicing witchcraft and that I believe in destiny and in spirits? Had I had my first boyfriend, would you approve him, or get strict with me until we elope? What's your favorite color? Food? Flower? TV Show? When I had failed on my subjects, would you scold me like mad? what do you look like when your'e angry? if i were to give you a gift, would you keep it or throw it away?

Beyond all that, I keep on thinking if you really loved me and my mother, even for just a moment.

Today, Mama and I went out to the mall and ate stuffed pizzas at Sbarro while sharing a large glass of lemonade. it was a rare moment, to eat at a place we used to pass by before because it was too expensive. but it wasnt new to me that we're sharing the same drink, or the same food. we used to keep on doing that, father, whenever the two of us go out. she would buy a dish meant for a single person, and we would divide it between the two of us. back then, it used to be easy, since I ate and drank little. but now that I have grown up, my appetite grew as well. I could certainly finish off one meal serving, even if it seems that there is enough for two people. but still we buy a single serving, and divide it between us.

It was kinda surprising, actually, for a thought of you to pass my mind. I rarely think about you nowadays, except when people ask about your whereabouts. your name would be rarely mentioned in the house, and when it was, it would only bring back painful memories and Mama would become the fragile little lady that shattered when you left.

But frankly, father, the reason I wrote this, and the reason I set up this blog is not because of the pent up anger I had stored inside of me for years. its because I miss you, and that I wish our family was complete and normal.

Happy Father's Day, Papa.

Back to School

6:7:07

"Oh right... I don't go to school anymore..."

School once again began just this week and all around the county, kids and parents are flocking in front of schools either waiting to get in or wanting to get out. I used to be part of that crowd, rushing to and fro just to get to school on time and so on. But now, I’m just an innocent bystander, riding the jitney with children and teens who may be their first or nth time wading in the Pool of Education.

College levels don’t start until next week and there are still schools that are still open for enrolment even this late in June. Everyday, on my way to work, the same guy hands me a brochure about the openings for enrolment in the nearby computer school. I took his brochure twice. I was interested in taking up an IT course anyway. Today, I saw him again, and I avoided him this time. It was enough that he wasted his paper and ink twice for me. The brochure he may have given me might be the one for the person who really intends to enroll there soon. Besides, the two brochures he gave me ended up in the trash can.

Frankly, father, I am beginning to miss school.

During my last days as a student, I always had this desire for graduation not to come. I wanted to stay a college student, together with my three friends, and enjoying the life that was paved out for us. But we only have the power to spin the threads of Fate and not to unravel it and turn back Time or stop spinning the thread altogether. It will be spun no matter what, and it will lengthen, until Athropos gets her shears and ends the thread.

Guess what my 5 year plan was? For two years I will get a job and work, work, work until I’m rich (or got enough to support the family). Then, I will go back to school, take a Masters in Business or in Psychology or Digital Art or others. And this will go on until I end up as a housewife with four children and a loving husband. And then work at home as a writer, or digital artist, or online game beta tester (that would be real cool.) or something else. Actually, that is a draft of my five year plan. Anything goes with the future, and whatever it gives to me I just go along with it.

But anyway, that was my 5 year plan, and unless something happens, I will follow through. I will go back to school.

For You

Never forget.

I wonder what would happen if humans never forgot.

Knowing Grandfather

5:5:07

Today was my grandfather’s birthday. I never really knew much about him, because he passed away long before I was born, leaving my grandmother and his 9 children. Of one of the nine, I was born. I know you know who I am talking about. You once loved her, right?

Anyway, last night, while watching her chop away the kamias she needed for cooking, she mentioned that today would be grandfather’s birthday. Having known almost nothing about you, I asked her, what was he like? She then explained everything to the best of her memory. She started with our family tree, and I realized just how big and complex our family was, with grandfather standing as a sturdy trunk. I don’t really know, but I guess you and him did have something in common. But unlike you, he did not leave the others for his new family. He considered them as part of a very huge and complex family, and loved and cared for each single offspring equally. I begin to wonder what would have happened if you and him had met.

He was, a very loving father to all his children. Of the three children he had with my grandmother, he cherished my mother most of all. In all occasions, my mother would be most welcomed. When she got kicked out of the company her step sister owns, because of what you did to her, that relative got angry at her. She had thought that she was sabotaging the company, based on what her co-employees had told her. But grandfather found a way, and reconciled them. I bet you now know how I managed to finish school without your help or the help of your very generous offerings. It was that same relative that I offer my college diploma to, not to you. Up to now she still looks after all of us, but we don’t take advantage of this favor in anyway. It was her who said that I looked like grandfather, and I earned her favor more.

I wish I could have met my grandfather. He seems to be a fun-loving old man full of surprises. Maybe if I had I wouldn’t be longing to find someone like him for a father.

Final Commencement

3:26:07

It’s been 10 years since I last saw you, and if you’ve been counting right, you know that this would be the month when I would celebrate my final commencement.

Yes, father. I had finally graduated college. Impossible as it would seem, with all the things we had to go through just to get me through school. But I had made it, father. No doubt about it. I had graduated with barely anything from you. And today was the day that marked that end.

I always dreamed of this day above all things, and it was much more magical than what I had expected. I went to the graduation hall clothed in a dress made out of my grandmother’s cloth and sewn by a generous neighbor (she gave me a discount on the labor expenses because I was graduating). You should have seen it. I chose the design myself. It was brown, dappled with huge beige flowers. It had a low collar that was cut just a few inches below the collar bone, and two semi-puffed sleeves that hang just below the shoulders. It was tied by a gold ribbon around my waist, and the rest of the dress flows freely and is cut just about a few inches above my knees. It wasn’t my dream dress, but it was just fine. I threw in a pair of white high heeled shoes and my aunt lent me her (imitation) pearl necklace and earrings just for the occasion.

We drove ourselves in a rented company van, along with the other real estate agents of the company where my mother and aunt worked. And as we drove, I thought of you, and of the dreams I had about this day. I had dreamed that you would be among one of the millions of parents, friends and relatives flooding the graduation hall. But with your graduation ticket in my hand, it would be more likely that you would never be there. And if you were there, then you must be attending your other daughter’s graduation. Isn’t it funny if I found out that we both went to the same university and graduated the same courses at the same date?

I want you to know and remember that I have become a realist the day you went away and never showed up in our doorstep ever again. I had come to believe that dreams remain dreams, and unless it was stated in your destiny, that dream is more likely not to come true. So I never did keep my hopes up, father. But still, I wished you were there to see me as I walked the aisle and climbed the stairs towards the stage, as the school rector took my tassel, moved it to the other side and shook my hands while saying ‘Congratulations”, as I stopped and smiled with my two chipped front teeth for the picture that proves I had graduated, as I walked back to my seat while stopping by some professors congratulating all of us personally, all with the Graduation Hymn playing in the background over and over like a worn out CD. You should have seen me, father, in my black graduation gown and cap adorned with a gold hood as I heaved a proud sigh and thinking that it had been done.

I finally graduated.

It was, among few that were documented here, one of the happiest experiences I ever had. It would have been really great if I graduated with honors, but even if I could, I wouldn’t. I’d still remain the average grader that I am because achievements only pressure me to keep up with the standards.

Keeping up to be a perfect daughter was hard enough. So why add more?

Happy as the occasion was, I was also feeling down and lonely. It was the first time I made real friends without anyone to intervene, and it felt sad having to realize the fact that it was all over. No more petty quarrels of which fast food to eat in. No more laughing out loud like crazy while listening to someone’s mishap. No more seatmates to cheat with *grin*. No more walks going home. No more talks about the unknown. No more name-calling of those professors who looked like in-humane monsters. No more rants about projects and deadlines and exams all on the same date. No more phone calls or YM’s about the same school stuff. No more fun memories. Only sad endings.

They were the three most cherished people I ever had in college. The first guy was my occult master, the second guy was my first real crush and the third girl was my work ethics twin. And it will be a very long time (unless I got struck with amnesia) before I forget each of them.

I didn’t cry when we separated. I’ve grown up accepting that separation is inevitable and I was able to cope with all the separations in my life, including yours. And I never want to make a fuss of turning soft right when I had this reputation of being rock-hearted (a nickname I got from my occult master). But deep inside the disappointment of shattered dreams had been evolving into regret and sorrow.

Graduation not only marked the end of a school year. It also marked the end of friendships, and the end of the cloistered life within the safe four walls of the school/university. It’s like you’ve been used to swimming in a swimming pool and then you find yourself at the shores of the wide, unprecedented ocean called Real Life. Its harsh, untested, and you can get yourself killed if you don’t know how to swim right. But you’d have to find your way through if you’d want to survive.

I’m out in the sea now, father. Watch me swim.