I had a twin brother for a night

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It had rained all day but I didn't have to drag my proletariat ass to work because I had a party thing planned out for the night. I decided to go "geeky" for the night because we can't wear jeans to work and because "geeky" is what I sometimes am. My good friend had invited me for the launch of their magazine at Embassy so I wanted to support him and his new job as Business Manager, at the same time, perhaps find a way to mingle with all those people I don't know but see very often on the internet or on the papers. Fine ... "geeky" is what I am all the time.

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The party was a great! The music was enticing and danceable, the bar was open till around 11 so I had myself a light beer and some rum coke. Joeboy came in early and he introduced me to some of his friends, one of them was Twin. I felt consciouss when he asked me what I do for a living, I mean, in some ways it still hits me how under-achieverly my work is and how I have this need to keep justifying what I do. (Blame my middle child complex.) But he was nice about it and didn't seem to be judgmental. It's all my head I guess, the way I make a fuss over what I do with my life. So under the disco balls and pink-purple sequin strands hanging from the ceiling, there I was with Joeboy, Twin, and other friends enjoying a nice drink, conversing wittily, and shivering our asses off because the aircon was at full blast and blowing against my semi-fit dark magenta shirt. The last few things I remember him telling me was that he knows most of the people there and that he has a very high tolerance for alcohol. Although I was thoroughly enjoying the conversation, had I stayed there any longer, I would've caused myself a grand mal seizure. I needed more oxygen in my brain and being there felt like being caught in a high society gathering in the tundra.

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From the entrance, I watched as the club filled up with people, some celebrities, and title holders of the Miss Earth beauty pageant ( L-O-L) At this point, I was beside one of the tarpaulins thawing off my hands and butt with the heat coming from the spotlights. (L-O-L) After the toast, some pictures, and a few more drinks, we found one of Joeboy's friends already feeling nauseous so they decided to bring him home and left me there in the club. It was uncomfortable because not only did I not know anyone there, I felt a bit socially retarded for not knowing how to know anyone there.

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In a few minutes, I received a call from Joeboy telling me that Twin wasn't feeling well too and that it would be a huge favor if I can check up on him. It was 2 am already and they turned the lights on in the club. The party's officially over. I found him sitting down alone on the front steps, wasted alright and with a bottle of water in his hands. I sat beside him on the faux grass mat that covered the steps (just imagine how much water seeped through that and how much water seeped through my tree-trunk brown pants). To say the least, it was uncomfortable. But, I had a job to do and Twin was apologizing profusely for having lost his control over alcohol. He rested his head on my shoulder. I kept a soft slouch so that his head wouldn't fall off. It was still raining and we were getting wet. I had him lie on my lap because he was slowly slipping away. My arms cradled and patted his maroon sweater; he was already passed out by then. The rain gradually painted my glasses with its transparent droplets and I had the sense to bring out the hand napkins I kept in my pocket to cover his face. All we needed then was a faint Tango rhythm in the background and the mellow scene would've been perfect for a movie like Wong Kar-Wai's Happy Together or something.

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I swear, I'm such a sucker for poetic scenes. I didn't even notice how scarcely the people left in the area. After a few minutes, my friends arrive and they find me with a guy's face nestled on my lap. They smile teasingly and tell me we look good together. Matching shirts, matching pants, matching shoes, matching skin color. It was hilarious in a way. The editor-in-cheif accompanied Twin to a cab afterwards. We went our own separate way to Buendia.

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We were the last people to leave earth last night and these are my ruminations of fraternity.

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Japanese Cherry & Sushi

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Last Sunday I met up with my college friends for a bit of tea & sashimi. We had our own stories to tell, something new to talk about like someone's gorgeous new Prada bag or someone's boyfriend doing stuff behind her back or someone's views on marriage and pregnancy or someone's brush with irresponsibility, but the bottomline was that we all lingered on the subject of SEX. So, for those who weren't able to cum dine with us while we ate each others' sushi, too bad ... you missed a lot.

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Anyway, after each of us cried over our wasabi sauce and the staff's over-zealousness to serve, someone got to ask the question, "Are you happy?" to everyone. Well, everyone except me.

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Don't get me wrong. I'm not offended or feeling left out and I'm not writing this down to make anyone feel guilty for not having asked me. It doesn't really matter, though I dared asked myself the same in hopes of gauging if I've changed my mind about my status quo.

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For me, the non-bitter me that is, I believe true happiness is balance. Like one friend said, you can't be happy ALL THE TIME. That would mean there's something wrong with you, that you are experiencing a manic episode or something. I should know, my blog past September was all splattered with the glint of mania. Not that I don't believe anyone can be happy all the time, it's just that I feel it's all a matter of perspective. A person may be having problems with his/her life but he/she can choose to look at the bright side and remain happy in spite of that. This is different from say, someone who has problems but denies their existence and lives in the delusion that everything is perfect. Hence in my case, I guess I can say I am "happy"with work, "happy" with my friends and officemates, "happy" with the changes in my life. But i can also say I am "unhappy"with some other aspects of my existence like my career, my love life, and my plans for the future. My happiness stems from the fact that I am grateful for the good things I've got going for me and my unhappiness stems from the insatiable nature of humans to strive for the best. Perhaps it is true then what people say that simple people find happiness with more facility.

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I'm not simple and I refuse to be. So there ... my gift and my curse. However, had I been asked if I am happy, I would've answered, "I try to find balance and that is better."

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... sometimes we know too much for our own good ...

For Algernon

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"Charlie, you amaze me. In some ways you're so advanced, and yet when it comes to making a decision, you're still a child. I can't decide for you, Charlie. The answer can't be found in books -- or be solved by bringing it to other people. Not unless you want to remain a child all your life. You've got to find the answer inside you -- feel the right thing to do. Charlie, you've got to learn to trust yourself."
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excerpt from Flowers for Algernon by Daniel Keyes
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The past few weeks had been crazy so I apologize for the silence. I had been avoiding going online and checking email and all the good stuff because somehow, besides being super busy looking for a place every weekend, I had found it quite pointless to exhaust myself over a virtual world when I could've been channeling that constructive thoroughness into my real world. After failed attempts at establishing connections with people trying to dig deeper into possible relationships, my guru had advised me to enter a brief moment of reflection outside the realm of telephone wires and stratospheric message sending. He even lent me a buddhist meditation booklet for people on the go and on the side, I read Charlie's "progris riports" on how to be smart in the novel Flowers For Algernon by Daniel Keyes. So there, after a couple of days' abstinence from cybernetwork contact, I fell into a sudden and unexpected state of despair and self-pity. HAHAHAHAHA!!! As if I didn't expect that wouldn't happen, and I mean, not that what I had felt were baseless neuroses from perceived infantile abandonment upon the birth my my younger sister (and then my youngest sister) during my toddler and adolescent years respectively, but the realizations came in heaving fire like demons from limbo, to the point where I had convinced myself that I needed therapy or exorcising(!) ASAP. I'm ok now. It had come after I talked to an officemate about movies and stuff. The brief encounter helped me snap out of the feelings of defeatism caused by the repressed desire for intimacy; the challenges of racing against the dynamic currents while traveling in a comfortably buoyant ship.
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We were supposed to pay the landlord last Sunday and finally be able to move stuff in by this Saturday. But alas, beautiful things have their ugly challenges. The landlord refused to accept post-dated checks that weren't under our names as signatories for the 2-bedroom unit. Why don't we have checking accounts yet you may ask. Well, let's see: My guru and I work 10am to 7:30pm everyday Monday to Friday. Unfortunately, the bank that holds our savings isn't open on Saturdays and their minimum maintaining balance is quite high. With this we had to let go of the offer. Forutnately, we had been nice to our broker (who talked to the agent who talked to the owner through sms.) She's offered to refer us to other units available if and when she sees some. Now that's something; It does help to be nice and polite sometimes.
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I do hope we find a place soon. I'm so excited at the prospect of being dirt poor whilst enjoying the privacy and personal space I've been craving for, especially now that I'm more serious in working up a sweat with the pieces of advice my guru has prescribed for me. Until that point where we can find our new home, it's gonna be a stiff rat race between my team and those other groups who're also looking for 2-bedroom units in the metropolis.
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With each turn of the maze, each whiff of the bait, I learn more about doing things on my own. It won't be soon when I beat the other rats in the race. Till then, I'll lay like flowers for Algernon.
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