Death and other Thoughts

Why I Blog

"Why do you like to write and share blogs?" A friend asked. I smiled and answered "Well, I don't actually care if people would read it or not; however there's this one person I want to share my blog with". "Who?" he asked curiously.

I looked at him and said happily "Me. When I'm old and nostalgic about life"
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On Death and Crying

A good friend once teased about me having a soft spot. I told her that I found some books an inspiration to extract tears; especially on the topic of death.

I cried 2 nights ago after reading "Tuesdays with Morrie". I read it from 12mn until dawn. It was not Morrie's death that poked my heart and my tear glands. It was the memory of my Lola's death.

Being a 12 year old boy, my memory is a bit bright and surreal over my Lola's deathbed. It was an orange afternoon when my Lola was visited by old friends. I stood nearby, just behind the door to eavesdrop. Probably out of curiosity on the strangers in our house.

They were happily talking about their youth and how good my lola was in football. This intrigued me and at the same time made me smile since I always though of lola to be a strict grumpy old woman.

The door, a few inch open, provided me enough space to watch their conversation. They were convincing her to be strong and to get well soon so they can play football again. My lola sadly looked at her decaying feet.

She was suffering from diabetes. The doctors even recommended to cut her left foot as to prevent more damage. But my lola, being a strong willed person, decided be in one piece; even until death.

She looked back at her friends and smiled. "We will play football once I get well, probably next week." They resumed their nostalgia and spent the entire afternoon laughing.

My lola died the after a few weeks and they never get to play again.

The same gesture was made by Morrie in Mitch Blom's book. While in the deathbed, he said he wasn't feeling well but will resume their meeting the next Tuesday. Their Tuesday people after all. But instead of attending their usual session, Mitch attended Morrie's burial the next Tuesday.

Mitch saw a tiny piece of hope since there was nothing to hold on to. But Morrie taught him to accept death as you accept life.

I cried for the bravery of Morrie and my Lola; for making the people they love secure. I love them for showing a glimmer of hope when all we see is dying. I love them for guiding us in the life's last destination.

Thinking about dying, I would probably do the same thing that they made. I'll tell my love ones that I will always be alright, even if my voice echoes with my last breath.

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Ghost Town

I don't know why, but despite experience I still checked whether the near computer store was open; It wasn't. So I decided to check Netopia so as to browse the net. Internet does not have Holiday anyway; but Netopia does.

Nowhere else to go I just walked the long Magsaysay road. The place reminded me of the movie 28 Days Later: no cars, no people (actually a few in my case, otherwise I'll freak out) and the city was silent except for a few TV static with Willy shouting wowowee.

Fortunately I found an open hair salon. With a few hair cuts and a lot of sermon from the stylist regarding my unkempt hair, I walked out a bit satisfied.

So why was I out while everyone was in the cemetery? Well, all of my dead relatives were buried miles away in Bicol.

I tried to pray in the church by the way, but it was closed.

Purple finger

I swam across a hundred of people. The tide was strong: Some knew me, some acting as if they knew me and some just wanted to give me a piece of paper. A small photocopied paper containing a smiling picture of someone I don't even know was my neighbor.

I estimated that I won't reach my destination with all the hindrances, so I began to lie. "Tapos na po ako Manong", "Naalala ko po Manang", "Uy nasulat ko name niya!"

I got inside the class room soaked with sweat; probably from guilt of lying. I fell in line with familiar faces; the owner of the Sari Sari Store, The siga and the barangay midwife.

My number was asked; My ID wasn't. "Ikaw si 141, Aida Sandagon?" Wow, I suddenly looked like my Mom.

"Hindi po, 140 po Ryan Sandagon". She stared at me, as if waiting for a joke. I was about to think something bad about the person asking my number when I realized that she was a teacher in a school I admire since Elementary. So I smiled the thoughts away.

She placed ink marks on my index finger and handed me a small paper.

I sat on a corner so no one would see me. I pretended looking in the lists, pretended writing and stood up.

Once again, I voted abstain.

Loneliness and Alibi

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Loneliness, in my case, comes in two situations:

whenever I see, hear or feel something lonely; Loneliness is contagious, so you might as well stop reading. And;

whenever I felt a sudden surge of happiness and then would later find myself in the middle of the night alone, staring at a one-way antisocial computer.

Luckily for me today, I am in both cases.

I saw loneliness on my way back home. It took the form of a breeze. It kissed my cheek as Judas would've kissed his master; Enticing yet treacherous. Along with it's smooth blow were my memories hidden in the deep part of my soul; rejections, humiliations, departure and death.

I got home tired and numb from over joy. I came from a party with people painted with smiles and laughter. Sadly for me, all that was left was a smudge of temporary ink all over my face.

I sat down infront of my PC and made a mind-calculation on the choices to make: Dwell in the pool of sadness, deal with depression or sleep.

Sleep was far from me.

Depression was rejected, my mind would not like to believe that it was depressed. The same idea drunk men have whenever they say "Heek, aym not zdrunk..Hik!

Having nothing else to choose from, I chose to dwell...and so I wrote.

I recalled all the details of melancholy. I closed my eyes and pictured the color of the skyless memory. I remembered the feeling of rain droplets on a sunny day. I chose a sad upbeat song (What Sarah Said by Death Cab for Cutie). I cried for not crying and I cried harder for not trying.

Suddenly like the breeze that kissed me, loneliness was taken away. I felt happy and have reminded myself that I would be fast asleep soon.

Loneliness was switched off by the pc shutting down. Loneliness was closed by my eyelids. Sleep was nearby but the sun was awake.

I tried to sleep knowing that loneliness would visit me again, someday.

Flash Games With Media Farm

Some of my Flash Game works with Media Farm. If you're interested, please don't hesitate to contact me so I can provide proper referral. Thanks!

Rock Climbing


Jail or Bank


Diamond Polishing


Gear-up Lara


Football


Conveyor


Conveyor

A slip of tongue

It was a fortunate accident; which happens rarely, especially if you're a 2nd year high school student simply wasting your time during recess.

I was in the mood to be alone that day. I actually wished that I took a day off from the small confinement called school. Someone called me from behind. About to be dismayed of having my solitude distracted, I turned and found her smiling at me.

She's not usually alone. If you know the lyrics of the carpenters song "Close to you", then you have a clear image of what I'm trying to explain. She was smiling and before I can even reply with a smile, she walked towards me and I soon found myself talking to her.

It was just a simple friendly conversation; about the assignments; about the class; about the teacher... (what else can we talk about, it's high school!)

I was silent hoping that the recess would take forever; hoping that the teachers would sleep forever in their siesta during recess time. But she broke my train of thoughts by asking me the unlikey question: "Sinong crush mo?"

Surprised by the question I answered "mm..Marami naman"; and before I could stop my mouth from saying something stupid, the accident occured. I said "Ikaw." which was supposedly was a question "Ikaw?". She was dumbstruck and I actually saw redness forming in her cheeks.

Trying to save my face from embarassment, I simply repeated what I said emphasizing the question mark: "Ikaw?".

She said "Marami." I was about to feel stupid, when suddenly she said "Of course kasama ka na rin dun". I remember feeling so happy the rest of the day. Probably it was just a kind response to return the favor but I'd like to think otherwise.

Imagine how a simple mistake can make things so right.

Well that was 12 years ago and we're now good friends, but still I can't stop my face from smiling everytime I remember the moment.

10 Things on Being a Padir

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I'm still a work-in-progress
to fatherhood:

1. I accidentally used Ph Care instead of baby shampoo to Jajas when he was just 6 months old. His few hair smelled like...hair afterwards.

2. Jajas experienced gravity when I left him unattended in bed. He crawled all the way to the edge of the bed; looked back at me, smiled and was suddenly out of sight. The last thing I remembered was his painful cry and my cry of guilt.

3. Being breast fed until 3 years old, I tricked my son one night and pretended that I was Jody. I lie down beside him and he immediately took my chest by surprise. He let go, tried to stare at me in the dark and sadly said "Mama?".

4. For no particular reason, my son (1 year old) would cry whenever I sing the Smallville soundtrack.

5. He prefers Super Dada than the usual dada. Imagine me with low modulated voice, walking around the house chest-out.

6. He usually steps on my delicate parts once in a while.

7. He thinks I'm smart; but mama is smarter.

8. He tells me a story in exchange of a story.

9. He loves me to infinity and beyond (Buzz lightyear motto).

10. I will always love him, to infinity and beyond.

The Best Thesis in the World

If you're thinking that my geek side took the best of me, then you're mistaken. I'm not going to brag about my "Simulation of 2D Time-Independent Quantum Wells", but I would rather like to share the story during the times when I was NOT doing it.

Introduction

During the initial phase of writing the introduction, I found out
that my girlfriend (my wife now) was pregnant. Unlike me, whose graduation was continuously delayed, Jody was teaching at a very respectable Catholic school back then. She's got a big future ahead of her career. But the words "pregnant" and "single" does not add up in the Mathematics of Catholic school. It was hard for her to let go of the work. She was able to save some money for our son's delivery, and some for my tuition before filing a resignation.

Methodology

Jobless and desperate to finish my thesis. I joined the bandwagon of job hunting.. I remembered applying to everything: a small printing press in Cubao, a group home-based web developers in Krus na Ligas, to IT companies in Ortigas and Makati. I was fortunate to have landed as an IT programmer in Makati. As it turned out they saw my online portfolio of Flash games and digital drawings (Ironically, these are the reasons why I flunked my GE subjects).

"You'll be paid P760" said the HR manager after signing the contract. "Per month?" I asked happily and naively. She looked at me with pity... "Per day, iho." I felt stupid but even happier.

Scope and Limitation

My old thesis adviser filed for a Sabbatical leave. She was suffering from symptoms suggesting Alzheimer's disease. I was transferred to another laboratory, and had to change my thesis. I was literally back to scratch and was running out of itch (to scratch... get it?!... ah, never mind). I worked with the IT firm for 3 months, but had to let go since I had to finish my thesis while taking 2 more subjects.

Jody and I got married in front of a Judge under a very comical process which I'll reserve to share some other time. My Godfathers were my best friends Ryan and Aris who fortunately were sober during the ceremony.

Since the honeymoon took place before the marriage, we simply celebrated eating at Greenwich Philcoa. The Godfathers weren't invited since we were under a very controlled budget.

Conclusion

After nine months of sleepless research and studies, I was able to finish running all simulations. After nine months, my son Jajas was born.

Jajas was three months old when I defended my thesis in front of a panel of Physics professors. It was a thesis made from sweat and blood. A thesis for my son and my wife. A thesis I considered to be the closure to my reckless college life.

So what did I learn from my thesis experience?
For one thing, having a family before your thesis will make the dedication part of the book, very meaningful.

The Catcher in the Rye

Peole call me Rye; and Rye is a cereal. At least my life-long identity crisis has been answered simply by a grass-grown grain. I am not alone, since barley and wheat are my cousins. I also happen to be useful. According to Wikipedia (copied verbatim; hence plagiarism)

"Rye grain is used for flour, rye bread, rye beer, some whiskies, some vodkas, and animal fodder. It can also be eaten whole, either as boiled rye berries, or by being rolled, similar to rolled oats."

So I guess you now know who I really am. If the title seems familiar, well I got it from the title of A.J. Salinger's book (plagairims again).

The book is about a youth who was afraid of adolescence. He was expelled, bullied, beaten and finally was taken to a mental institution. His mission in the book was to catch children falling from the rye baseball field; thus the title of the story.

So I guess I should be thankful that people call me Rye. Wait till my friend Phallus (Aris) hears about this one.

A Matter of Common Sense

If all people are children, then earth would be heaven; Not literally, otherwise we would be having sequels to the "Children of the Corn" books and movies and earth would be hell.

If all people are children, having a naive philosophy in the way things are perceived, then we can easily see that the problem in the world is simple. We can easily see that the street kids are hungry and homeless. We can see that the old people in the streets need shelter and comfort.We can build a world based on common sense. But that's far-fetched from what we have right now; however I saw a small glimmer of hope one Saturday evening.

Like other Saturdays, My wife and I brought our son to a video rental shop. We rented a Dora vcd and my little boy asked if he can play in the McDonald's Playhouse just beside the shop. As we got out the double doors, my son was greeted by an Aeta boy.

The little boy, like other unfortunate Aetas, seemed malnourished. He wasn't alone, a few steps away from him is his family; His mother begging for money while feeding a baby in her bossom. Three sleeping children, whom I assumed to be the little boy's sibling, shared the spot.

Innocently, my son greeted the little boy back with a smile. He walked towards the little boy patted the little boy's head (he does that a lot to babies) and asked why the boy wasn't wearing any slippers or shoes. The little boy did not reply, but looked at his feet instead.

Imagine my surprise. My son saw beyond the difference in skin color, hair and language. He saw what was necessary.

If an adult sees the little boy asking for help, his first instinct is to either check his pocket for coins or to ignore the call for help. But to my son's point of view, the little boy needs a slipper because the pavement is cold and his feet might get hurt; common sense.

I told my son to give the boy some coins as for the moment. I handed him the coins and he happily gave it to the little boy. In the back of my mind, I've decided to add slippers to the things I will give to the poor beggars this coming December. I Will bring my son with me, since his vision is obviously keener than mine.

My son bade goodbye to the little boy. That night, as my son played in the playhouse, I was playing with my thoughts of childhood and innocence; and have decided to live young again.

Messy Mushiness

I call it the rule of 20. Everytime I walk Jody back to her boarding house, after hours of enjoying talking about everything, I would simply wait til she gets in. That's when the moment of mushiness would come in. The moment I would wait and count up to 20. If I'd be lucky then she'd go out to check if I was still there. She would smile; and me, smiling back, would pretend to move as if I was planning to leave.

I would walk 20 paces, then head back to where I once stood. 1...2...3..

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"Put your hand on a hot stove for a minute, and it seems like an hour. Sit with a pretty girl for an hour, and it seems like a minute. THAT'S relativity." - Einstein

The boy who was ahead of me

He was 4, I was 3. He started reading, I learned the alphabet. He turned 8, I turned 7. He knew how to add and multiply and subtract and carry one and borrow one from two; I just learned that the small letter "l" isn't the number one, and that the letter "O" isn't the number zero.

But yesterday I just turned 26 thinking that he could have been 27 by now. Yet he chose to be 20. As my age adds up every year, I will always think of that person who's been my guide to the next step in life.

To my friend Tristan. The friend who made the choice.

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I wrote this last March, in memory of a good friend who took his life after learning that his girlfriend died in a car accident in Bagio.

The Day I Died

I asked a friend how he managed to be calm after receiving the news that his Brother died. He muttered a smile, took out a cigar and remained silent for a few seconds. I was waiting for his response but at the same time relieved with the quietness of the moment.

He played with the smoke for a while. His cigarrette slowly detonating his response.

"I am calm" he simply said. He was struggling for words. His face forming into an unreadable expression. He puffed a large smoke and for moment his face was painted with pain. My vision cleared as he swallowed to clear his throat.

"I am calm...", he paused as if waging a battle inside his mind. Before I could provide a comfortable response he continued "...for I've seen my brother died before".

My mouth dropped waiting for a clear explanation. He looked at me and simply said the following; "Everynight, before going to sleep. I close my eyes and imagine a funeral. I imagine people in black clothing; children playing and old people crying. I imagine the smell of the flowers sent by friends. I taste the finger-food served to visitors. I see old and familiar faces. I see myself silent sitting near a coffin. I always see myself calm." He paused and inhaled a puff of smoke.

"I usually end my imagination by walking towards the coffin...and see different people I love inside the box..everynight."

"Every night?" I asked. "Yes. And I always cry myself to sleep".

He smiled and said "I even saw you last night."

We were silent for the rest of the day and I pitied his calmness.

An Ode to Marie - FICTION

I was on my way to the mall. She was on her way to somewhere I forgot to ask. I easily reconized her smile. "Musta?" we both said."Mukhang masayang buhay natin ah" I asked. She answered "Hindi", and then she laughed. We mumbled and parted ways. Both time and space were moving fast.

She is happy, and so am I. Nothing can be happier.
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Reference: Shortcut by Jody
http://jodyism101.multiply.com/journal/item/2/fiction_SHORTCUTS)

CSS-- CSI

One of the perks of being a webdeveloper is that you can customize the look of your 2.0 applications ( friendster, multiply, esnips, blogspot) because of css modification. I've changed my header background and repositioned the multiply header so it won't be a visual distruction to my site. It's still a work-in-progress though. Enjoy!