The Angel

On my way to work today, an old, familiar song played on the radio. It was not the original but an even slower interpretation, as if at 5AM I needed to hear lullaby. Nevertheless, the recognition pulled me back to when I used to hum it. I was so much younger then, in high school, seemingly with an entire life ahead of me. I could see myself in the attic of our house watching the sun set over the horizon, an incomprehensible melancholy washing over me.

I had been meaning to write for a long time, but the idea kept slipping away. On some random moments, I wish I had a pen and paper and I could simply write down my thoughts before they vanish. But ultimately, I let them dissipate into thin air. My mind wanders into many different things until I find myself falling asleep. I would tell myself, I am writing, forever, constantly, perpetually writing. Just not here. This part of my life, I choose to have it muted. An embargo of what goes on in every waking moment of it.

We die everyday. The moment we step out of our houses, we become sensitive to how the world will see us. We mute our colors and hide the mannerisms that could betray us. We try as hard as possible to be inconspicuous in our words and actions. We look for nuances of what makes a man straight and so we stifle our tendencies and inclinations in order to be like them. We call the men bro or dude  or whatever sounds manly in the offices that we work in.

It is Thanksgiving in the US today. The day when many turkeys are killed and basted. Although I don't celebrate it even when I lived there, this is a good time to be grateful for where I am in life. Many times in the past couple of months, I remind myself that I am in a comfortable place now, far from the struggles I've had in the last two years. It had been a dizzying, sometimes unconscious, trip to rock bottom. And just when I thought I was finally rising from my grave, I hit a few rough patches again and I spent months without any source of income.

Today would be my 2 years in this country, although I've moved to a different state since then. The first thing I noticed here is that moving from one state to another is a BIG deal. It's tantamount to moving from one country to another. Driver's license has to change, car plates, insurance--everything. It's like starting over again. People don't easily move from one state to another, because it means a different set of state laws (a striking example would be the recognition of gay marriage in some states,) a different computation of taxes (I pay more income tax in KY than in FL, but sales tax is lower,) a different demographic (more white, more conservative, etc.) Contrast that to how Filipinos are so raring to move out of the country, an anywhere-but-here mentality. It was an eye-opener for me to see how difficult it was for Americans to uproot themselves from one state to another. Most gave up their jobs, (which was hard given the economic climate) choosing to st...

I had this weird realization when I was talking to BIG friends sometime ago. I told them I needed a lot of beautiful women to get over Natalie Portman getting engaged and having a baby. They asked me who and I named several at the top of my head, all of them Hollywood beauties who I like seeing onscreen. It doesn't matter whether they're in crappy movies. They're silly crushes, really. And BIG friends would remind me that Natalie is still my one great love and they're all just distractions to get over my heartbreak. Funny how I can have so many women crushes, but very few men crushes. At the top of my head, I can only name two Hollywood actors. It made me wonder whether I'm straight or simply confused about my sexuality. Kidding. I realized I don't easily admire people, not physically at least. One of the easiest way to turn me off is to have a headless, topless picture. No matter how ripped the body is, I look away. I admire people based on several factors,...