Basti.

Rolf Sebastian R. Punongbayan.

A sight to behold.

To tell you the truth, I'm ashamed to admit this now, when I found out that you exist, deep in the recesses of my heart, I resented you, because I knew, once you come out, your dad will never or seldom be available for the long talks, overnight inumans and until-morning gimmicks we have always had.

But looking at you now, all I feel is love... affection... wonder.

You have just sealed a lifetime of friendship and kinship between your father and I. You were loved from the time you were conceived, and now you are one of us, breathing the same air and hearing the same [house] music (hehe), you will be loved as you will never believe to be. Tita Ninang will always be here for you. I love you, with all my heart.

And speaking of hearts...

Don’t break too many hearts, you hear me?

Welcome to our world.

It's not perfect, and you will see, hear, feel a lot of things you shouldn't have to. You will cry. You will bleed. But I assure you, there will be people, just like me, who will wipe your tears away, who will make you laugh until your tummy hurts, and who will love you the way you should be loved ------- completely.

1-blogyear old.

Before availing of Blogspot's free service, I was using myspace's blog feature. I started February 2004. The entries were sporadic there; 2-3 updates a month. Or sometimes none at all.

I still remember the day I created this realm: It was more or less 3pm. I was multi-tasking: packing for a 2-day Galera beach trip with pep friends and chatting with a stateside friend. She said she has a blogspot home. Visited it. I was impressed. I immediately registered and proceeded to post a 2-liner entry.

And the rest is history.

Yes, my blog is now a year old.

How time flies.

"I did not know what to say, my mouth had no way with names,
my eyes were blind, and something started in my soul,
fever or forgotten wings, and I made my own way,
deciphering that fire, and I wrote the first faint line, faint
without substance, pure nonsense, pure wisdom of someone who knows nothing,
and suddenly I saw the heavens unfastened and open, planet, palpitating planations,
shadow perforated, riddled with arrows, fire and flowers, the winding night, the universe."

Pablo Neruda certainly knows his shit.

Am I Not Worthy?

Just earlier, I was re-reading my old entries. I was going through each and every post and the comments as well. Then I came upon my Stuck in a Moment entry and I was struck, again, as the first time I read it, by lei's comment.

"one woman's story is every woman's story talaga. half hoping he'd text, half wishing he'd stop and free you, knowing he's not for you, knowing there are other women, knowing he's not interested, thinking you can walk away unscathed because after all you know the game, you decide in the game, you make your own game, you get the game. but ninety-nine percent of the time, the game gets you." - lei

How true is that?!

I'm confused. Totally, utterly confused. My feelings are all mixed up now. Sometimes, my brain goes through this chaotic-theorising-and-analyzing-mode that by the time it finishes processing the data, it's more jumbled up than when it started.

Maybe I'm just disappointed. Maybe I just fell. Hard.

It hurts knowing I'm the only one who feels this way. If he doesn't see my worth now, kailan pa?

Dammit. I knew it. I fucking knew it.

Ayoko na ng laro. AYOKO. NA. NG. LARO.
Utang na loob.

Please, Lord, let there be light.

I don't want to be blind in the dark...

Anymore.

Of Council Sessions. Part II.

Last Monday, I received an invitation to a dinner to be hosted by the current members of the Sangguniang Panlungsod of Mandaluyong City. It's Councilors Week today and they were hosting this annual dinner for current and former city councilors on Friday. It was surreal to see the salutation Former Councilor before my name. Heehee. I almost laughed out loud.

I was going for a simple 'Ms.'

People have been asking me why I didn't go for a second term. I was already inside the circle, why not push my chances and run under the administration? Hmm... a simple answer: I've had enough.

I've kept my hands clean from politics for the past 3 or 4 years. Occasionally, I'd oblige to attend an event or a party/dinner hosted by the few friends I garnered during my 6-year term. I'd make my presence known by greeting the people who need to see me there, mingle for an hour or 2, have my picture taken for posterity, and then quietly make my exit.

During my first year in the political arena, someone gave me this unsolicited advice: Loyalty and friendship are unheard of in politics. Oftentimes.

I never took the advice to heart and forgot about it. Little did I know that this concept would materialize after 5 years right before my eyes. I had a few staunch supporters (bless them!) during my last year. It was a battle well-fought I reckon now. I fought for what was right, they fought for the position and the money it would bring them. It sounds pompous, I know, but during that time I was determined to protect what little dignity the position I held had. They knew I wasn't in it for the money or the title.

I was in it because of my father's dream.

For a while after my 6-year term, the unpleasant memories hindered me from sharing what really went wrong during that last year. The betrayals, the threats, the rumors left a bitter taste in my mouth. And no matter how often I gargled it away, it would re-surface and haunt me for a time.

I was barely 20 when I was shoved into the arena. I was forced to grow up; to think beyond my 20 years. The burden of making decisions for the 270 members of the SK and more than 3,000 15-21 voters in the City pushed me to go beyond my limits. I was prohibited from making the wrong decisions. I was never one to uphold rules but for the first time in my life, I was asked to conform. Society called for a prim and proper me, and for my daddy, that was what they were gonna get. There was too much at stake. Even my heart took the heat. I fell in love with someone who came from a rival political family. We fought high and hard, to no avail.

When I got out of it I felt way older than my 25 years. I was never quite the same again. But I also felt liberated and free. Fortunately, my father's dream did not die with me, my brother is continuing on with his dream. And my kuya, if I say so myself, is doing a better job.

And so, on Friday, I'd make my presence known by greeting the people who need to see me there, mingle for an hour or 2, and have my picture taken for posterity...

And then quietly make my exit.