Hello, Confucius

It felt weird walking through the same corridors I walked through for ten years of my life. It felt weird seeing the same classrooms I once sat in for almost ten hours everyday for ten years. It felt weird seeing the same open field we once played cops and robbers on. It felt awkward how our 6th grade classroom was now a 5th grade classroom. It felt awkward seeing how that already creepy St. Lorenzo statue near the monkey bars got even creepier. Or maybe it was just because of the statue’s new paintjob. Do statues even suppose to have paintjobs?

I actually wouldn’t have gone to SSA if I didn’t have to drive my mother around town last weekend. I was perfectly content with my memories of how the school used to be, I still am. But going back made me reminisce about the way we once were, the fun we’ve had, the tears we’ve shed, the friendships we’ve made and the experiences we probably will never forget.

Going back was surreal. Surreal, but nice.

This year, my parents and I will spend the Holy Week in Boracay. Yes, Boracay. I really ought to feel guilty now because all I can think of are the food, the parties and the booze when I should really be reflecting on my spirituality, which I must admit has waned in the last few years.

Its almost impossible to believe now but I used to be a religious kid who went to mass four times a week, prayed the rosary every night, read books about the lives of Catholic saints and toyed with the idea of becoming a nun. These days, I’d rather go to the mall on Sundays than spend an hour in church. The last time I prayed the rosary was six months ago and the entire time we were praying, all I could think of was how badly I wanted to get it over and done with. Churches and religious artifacts still fascinate me but it is purely for aesthetic reasons. And as for joining the convent? Well, the last time I entertained the thought was six years ago which, to me, seems like an eternity.

While I still believe in the idea that there is a god, I find myself drifting farther and farther away from my convent-bred childhood which taught me that belonging to a religion is a surefire way to salvation. This notion about the nature of religious affiliation has made me wary about organized religion and what they stand for. My parents are not conservative Catholics but religion is still very much a big part of their lives. The hypocrisy of going to mass on Sundays just to appease them makes me wrestle not just with my own Catholic guilt as well as my conscience. But at the end of the day, my spirituality is not dictated by which religious denomination I belong to or which church I go to but a personal relationship between me and my god.

Everynight, I still say the same prayer my parents taught me when I was a child. I still ask the lord to bless my mom, my dad, my aunt, the chickens, the lizard and the dogs. And this Lenten season, I will ask the Lord to bless and guide me in this journey of life that I go through every single day.

I can’t believe that this little boy

has turned to this

this

this

this

this

this

this

this

this

and finally, to this

Hahaha. I have no words for the gayness. Sorry for the picspam, he’s just too fucking adorable.

I’ve been meaning to blog about my nephew but I can never get myself to do it. Somehow in the middle of it all I just lose it and cry. My nephew is what people nowadays would call a special child. We learned about his condition when he was two and a half years old and his parents had to send him to a special school where his classmates were about ten years older and two times bigger than him. Him being autistic didn’t quite sink it then but as time passed I knew that he wasn’t going to be what I’ve always wanted him to be.

We as a family have reached a point where we’ve accepted him and his condition but not a day goes by that I don’t stop and think about what could have been. When he was born, I could barely look at him because he was too dark and his head was oddly shaped. By the time he was a year old, I could hardly put him down. He was the little brother I’ve always asked for in my prayers. But when I learned the he was autistic, I felt my world crumble. It was like someone took everything I treasured the most in my life. But life goes on for us.

Everytime I’m with him, I never fail to tell him how much I love him and how much he means to me. To say that he makes my life worth living is an understatement because he is my life. Every picture, every phone call, every smile means more to me than anything else in the world. And if ever I find myself wondering why I continue to do what I do everyday, I know in my heart that it is because of him. I hope he understands how much we love him because no words can express how much he means to us. We taught him how to talk, how to sing, how to hold his spoon and fork and how to poop but he has taught us more than that. He taught us how beautiful life can be.

As I was getting ready to sleep this morning, I heard an explosion and the sound of breaking glass. Little did I know that the building right behind our house was already burning. The guard woke us and our neighbors up just as the flames were getting stronger and hotter. Because the street where the building was located is too narrow for the firetrucks, the firemen had to park the firetrucks inside our compound. So there we are, staring at the building on fire while posing for pictures and chitchatting.

Funny that the first thing we all saved were our laptops. When the guard woke everyone up, we all came out holding our laptops. Nobody bothered taking their clothes with them but everyone had their laptops with them. Oh technology, how we love thee.

We spent the Holy Week in Bacolod instead of Roxas City because my parents were too tired to travel.

It was refreshing to be away from the hustle and bustle of Manila even just for a short while.

The best part of my vacation? Meeting some good old friend from St. Scho (Mariel!) and catching up on each other’s lives.

I ate too much, slept too much and watched TV too much.

My nephew is growing up and it makes me sad.

Our house is a much sadder place now that the dogs are gone.

I still love Robinson’s though I’ll probably learn to love the new SM.

I am a shallow person. And it sucks.

The kids we used to tease and bully during our carpooling days in high school are now bigger and taller than I am.

I can live without a PC and an Internet connection.

My mother has Star Wars action figures on top of her TV.

My iPod keeps me sane.

XBox 360 + HDTV = Orgasmic!

Pompom, our beloved pet of 8 years, died on Valentine’s Day.

We lost two other dogs last year but losing Pompom is really depressing. She will definitely be missed.

For the past two years, my life has been virtually free of any drama. Although I think it’s better to live a life free of angst and insecurities, I miss the drama. I miss the late night crying sessions and the long angst-filled letters to my parents. I’m pretty sure though that neither mom nor dad miss those days of long lingering silence over dinner. That being said, life is good and the future looks promising.

I still can’t believe that there will no longer be any Harry Potter books after July 21st. At least there’s still movies to look forward to. So, guess how I will be spending my birthday?

Just before the 2006 ended, my parents had already started discussing leaving the country and settling in the US when they retire four or five years from now. In the end it was decided that the best time for us to go would be next year (2008). So far the only time we ever talked about the issue as a family was two weeks ago when Mom came to Manila to visit Dad and I. But yesterday I woke up to a text message that (to me) seemed to say: Dad, work, DC.

Things, however, are starting to get really interesting as far as this whole migrating issue is concerned. Things are indeed starting to get really interesting.