Introspections

Agosto 9, 2008

Story…

Isinalansan sa: Patchworks — skinnyjello @ 2:24 hapon

We had a storytelling exercise in our speech class wherein we were told to share our most unforgettable experience. Since I couldn’t think of any unforgettable story to share, I wrote this one instead. Fortunately, I received a high grade because of this. And my classmates and my professor were moved by what I shared. I just thought of sharing it with you, too. Here it goes…

When you encounter a fork in the road, be sure to take the right path. I happen to run across one, and it was a big turning point for my life. Mine is a story about love, friendship, and the risks and complications that come with both when they meet in a complicated intersection – a fork in my road.

In my life, I consider only two persons as my real best friends. One’s a girl; the other one’s a boy.

I met her nine years ago at a youth camp in a nearby church. I may say that we got along very well. She tells me her stories, I tell her mine. Years went by and our friendship started to grow until we became real best friends. I say “real” because what we have is something real and genuine. No adulteration. No vested interest. No strings attached. She’s like an older sister to me. And she said that she found a brother in me. We are best friends for eight years now.

I met him four years ago in school. We both passed the school paper’s qualifying exams. We got along pretty well. He tells me his stories. I tell him mine. We practically became part of each other’s routines. From going to school, covering news stories, and doing press works, to washing our clothes, cleaning the house, eating, and yes, sleeping. I may say that in him, I found a constant companion. He’s a real brother to me. And what we had is the kind that I’m willing to defend.

Until everything seemed to fall apart. We reached a forked road and the decisions that each of us has to make changed the course of history.

I fell for her. Paulo Coelho, in his book The Zahir, says that love is much like a dam. When you allow even just a trickle to form, that trickle will start to form a big crack that will eventually collapse the entire structure. And when that happens, there’s no stopping it. Getting past the first stage of whether to tell her or not was difficult. Will telling her about how I feel bring about positive outcome? Or will it restrain the free, “no holds barred” friendship that we nurtured for a long time? What if she doesn’t feel the same? And what if she does? I love her. And I need to find out nonetheless.

Guess what I did. Yes. I told her. Her answer was vague and indistinct at first. But to cut the chase, luckily, she feels the same. She told me she loves me. What started out as friendship began to rise to a whole new level. You know, it isn’t everyday that best friends fall in love with each other, especially in our case. She’s a couple of years older than me, and I’m definitely so out of her league. And knowing that my best friend feels the same about me is something… no, not something, it’s everything!

But I’m sorry to burst your bubbles. No, that’s not the end yet.

Unluckily, he is also in love with her. I wish I could tell you the whole story but that will take me another 45 minutes to narrate, and the last thing that I want to do is to bore you with my emo cheesy story.

Causing pain to my best friend is never in my Christmas wish list. I’m the kind of person who treasures friendship a lot. Tell you what; I choked myself up in tears many times because of this. I’m not the typical guy who walks up to a girl, asks her name, and says, “Hey, I think I like you. Would you mind going out with me sometime?” I rarely fall in love. And when I do, I want it to be the kind that opens a million flowers in a field. I want it to be perfect. Well who doesn’t? But this is far from being a perfect love story.

Now what do I do? Should I forego this chance of a lifetime so as not to hurt my other best friend? Doing so will hurt her. And I wouldn’t want to hurt her. More so, what we feel is something true. I know that I love her. More importantly, I know that she loves me just the same.

Will you call me a traitor and a friend-deserter if I choose to pursue what I feel? Hard as it seems, I did. I had to choose between two options.

Today is actually the first year of when it all started. August of last year. After a year, she’s still with me; we are still best of friends. Just best of friends. But he isn’t anymore. I’m not so sure if things are still going to work out just fine someday. Regretting isn’t good, especially when the decision that you made is what your heart dictates. The road ahead is still fuzzy and uncertain for the three of us. I just hope things will turn out for the better real soon.

Apparently, fairytales are only for those who sleep. Not all roads lead to a happy ending. And not all “once upon a time” end with “and they live happily ever after.”

And when you encounter a fork in the road, be sure to take the right path.

Hunyo 14, 2008

JELL-O

Isinalansan sa: Patchworks — Mga Marka:, — skinnyjello @ 4:40 hapon

everybody loves jello

“JELL-O is JELL-O and not creme brulee…”

- Julia Roberts, My Bestfriend’s Wedding

When my best friend’s kid Canadian cousin heard that my name’s Jello, he laughed really hard and, grinning, he asked, “Why is your name ‘Jello’?”. Well it wasn’t the first time.

My father named me after a punk rock band’s vocalist, Dead Kennedy’s Jello Biafra (Eric Reed Boucher is his real name). I heard that he’s an intelligent man; ran for both mayor and president in San Francisco; was involved in political activism and supports leftist political causes. Biafra (or Boucher in real life) created his stage name as an ironic combination of the brand name JELL-O, a nutritionally delicious treat, and Biafra, a short lived country which apparently failed to secede from Nigeria in 1966, a country of horrific mass starvation. “Jello Biafra,” says Urban Dictionary, “is now the sexiest 46-year old ever to live.” Hehe…

I visited urbandictionary.com and scoured for some meanings to my name. Here are what I found which really amused me.

1. Jello – the sexiest food alive. Yum… Jello…

2. Jello – mediocre sex. Sex is like Jello. When it’s good, it’s really good. But when it’s bad, it’s still pretty good.

3. Jello – short hand for jealous; to be jealous without reason.

4. Jello – ass, usually that of a female booty. Make it wiggle like Jello – the Pack!

5. Jello – a person who is known to break girls hearts and do it continuously; also known for cheating on girlfriend with girlfriends bestfriend!

6. Jello – (i love this one! Haha!) hot, attractive, good looking male, boyfriend, husband, etc.

7. Jello – (here’s another one!) a word standing for totally sweet, awesome, nasty, hot, super, etc.

8. Jello – a woman’s breast. Check out the jello on that chick.

I have no idea why most of the matches have something to do with sex. I’m not so sure but I guess all the Jello’s in the world are sexual. Haha…

The Stupid Ants and the Retarded Black Askal

Isinalansan sa: Patchworks — Mga Marka:, — skinnyjello @ 8:27 umaga

Some ants are stupid. They dive into a pool of vinegar and drowned. I happen to witness these stupid ants earlier this afternoon in my extreme boredom.

I was sitting on a chair in front of the dining table when I happen to see those bigger-than-the-usual red ants feasting over a cup of suka from our afternoon merienda: lumpiang “something”. My initial reaction was to play Ant Bully over these relentless creepy-crawlies just as I always delightfully do. So I crushed and smashed and snapped and squashed happily, enthusiastically, and joyfully with all my might. You should have seen the devilish grin on my lips and the diabolic look in my eyes while I indulge in that fun activity! When I finally got tired of bullying them, I rested for a while until I observed some of them diving into the cup of vinegar on the table. So I laughed. “Ang bobo naman nitong mga langgam na ‘to,” I exclaimed. It’s not that they dive in literally. They just lose their grip while sipping the vinegar and fall into it accidentally. Almost 50% of them who sipped fell into the vinegar and drowned, and I (the Ant Bully that I am) delightfully watched with glistening eyes and wide-opened mouth as I witness them squirm and fight for their poor little lives. Poor ants.

The lesson: ants get drunk in vinegar. So, ants… drink moderately.

***

When watching these stupid ants became boring, I shifted focus to our pet dog Lana’s three little pups. Believe me, this is one touching story, so brace yourself.

To begin with, allow me to introduce Lana to you. Yeah, her name’s Lana, our pet dog. (We got her name from Kristine Kreuk’s Smallville character, Lana Lang. I know she would seriously protest when she meets our dog Lana. Sorry.) She used to be totally black all over, but her fur’s a little bit turning into brown now. That’s what she got when black starts to fade. I guess it’s because of infrequent baths and exposure to sun, rain, storm, UV rays, El Niño, La Niña, dust, red ants, and anything and everything that the outside world has to offer. Lana is a long-legged dog. She has four long, slender legs, a disproportional long muzzle, and short drooping ears. I’m not even sure if her parents are real dogs. I guess she’s a hybrid of a horse and a premature giraffe. She jumps high and wags her tail so strongly. Totally monstrous, so even we used to be scared to get near her. Well, she used to stay inside the house when she was still a cute little black puppy. I’ve even mistaken her as a black Labrador when she was little, and we’ve seen her slowly transform into a Doberman as she grows bigger. Now I’m completely convinced that she’s totally Pinay and she’s no other than a black “Lagrador” or a “Doggerman” as Serg calls her. We ostracized her and resorted to tying her on a mango tree outside when she started sneaking out of the fence and began living her dream and fulfilling her destiny of eating kaning-baboy and nibbling on trash cans outside. Right now, Lana’s ribcage is so visible to the naked eye even from the outside; so visible that you can even count her ribs, identify joints, tendons, and ligaments, and bring her to school for your Biology class presentation. I also believe that she’s mentally retarded.

So Lana is faded black, horse-looking, and mentally retarded. And (sorry, I forgot) she’s stinky. In short, she’s a typical askal.

Lana almost meant nothing to us because of her unrefined breeding. But not until she gave birth to three cute babies… (Poor dog Max, he had to satisfy his man nature and contented himself with Lana. So Lana got preggy and miraculously gave birth to cute little puppies. Oh yeah. They’re cute. I know, I know. It is really hard to believe. I actually thought she’d give birth to little dinosaurs.)

Earlier this afternoon, I was watching in surprise how her three little babies eat solid food for the first time! They were ravaging the leftover noodles for Lana which my father gave. I saw poor, ugly and retarded Lana watches over her pups monstrously guzzle the food prepared for her. I know that at the moment, she’s also starving to death. Her ribcage reveals her dire need for food. But she didn’t budge! No, she didn’t even move to have even a taste of the food. I saw her looking at it, and I know that her mouth is watering as her tummy churns in serious starvation. But that’s all that she did – stare! My kuya even dragged her muzzle near the food twice and told her to eat with her babies but (guess what!) she refused! Oh man! That was the first time I ever saw her refuse! I can see that she’s sad and hungry at the same time, but she let her babies enjoy the food while she watched and contented herself with looking at her happy little girls. And when they finished eating, she began devastating the leftover food as expected. I saw Lana’s effort to contain her hunger for her little ones (and I know that it was indeed a serious struggle for her since she’s a certified PG). Awww… What a doting mother she is. Isn’t it heart-warming?

The moral: even retarded dogs know how to love and care for their loved ones. Do not judge. (Whatever!) Now my kuya plans to buy her her own dog food. Congratulations!

PS:

If you have been touched by Lana’s life story, you may send in your donations both in cash and in kind to our home. Contact me in my mobile number for more details or you may leave a comment after reading this post (but I recommend the latter). Thanks!

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