the alcoholic

he was holding a bottle of tanduay, his third for the day.

as if the lady was reading my mind, she said 'his name is paula. a homeless guy.' i later knew that the town has adopted him.

he was living in the marketplace. he gallivants the streets everyday or as he puts it, RAMPA ARAW ARAW. he did not have a house in particular, the community comprising of stores for different variety of goods served as his home. owners of the stores were kind enough to give him food, clothes and the company he needs. this day he'd stay at aleng nene's, next day he'd stay at mang aldo, with no assignment of home in particular.

i saw him hosting a mini- contest for the kids. he dolled them all up with make up, had them showcase their talents and answer beauty pageant questions. the kids were all pretty. they were all excited to have their pictures taken using my phone after my friend jen gave each of them a hair makeover (braid, crown-like hairstyle or whathaveyou.)

we got to talk with him heart to heart later that night. manang was telling us that paula was just in his drama mode out of the influence of alcohol. but my friend and i knew better. we never asked him to talk, yet paula started confiding on us, tears drooling down his eyes.

he was talking about his frustrations, about the fact that people judge him because of his appearance. he talked about a beauty pageant he never got to win, about his friends who would gossip about him. he was continuously crying. we asked if he is aware that he is an alcoholic, and he answered with a quick yes. he said he really want to stop it, but a day without tanduay would make him quiver in pain.

he is ugly, he is black, those words keep ringing in his head everyday. words most people tell him, hurtful words which makes him cry as he looks at himself in the mirror at times. from time to time, he said, he will hear discouraging statements from people, friends alike.

i cannot fathom how he is affected with stares being thrown at him because of his color. people may call it over reacting but we felt the pain and saw it in his eyes. we told him to just let those people be, to prove them wrong, to show them that he can accomplish things he wants to, that he can one day go back to teaching then quit drinking altogether after seeking professional help. we knew it was easier said than done. having the weak- heart that he has, he succumbs to some people's belittling statements then look for another way to get another bottle of tanduay.

paula was funny. manang told us that he oftentimes cracks jokes, dances and does his walk like he is a ramp model, making the street as his catwalk. people would sometimes hand him coins, which he will then collect so he could satisfy his thirst for alcohol.

i would always have this 'do your thing and let the others do the talking attitude,' but that night, i was made aware that some people don't cope with things that way, words being thrown at them will sort of stay in their entity like a permanent stain in a shirt. they will come across people who would belittle them, look them up from head to toe, but weak-hearted people like paula will never have the courage to confront them, hiding all the disappointments in their own closets, especially with the lack of people to talk sensibly with.

paula may have wished that people would think first before saying a word. paula knows so well that there are words that could break someone's confidence, let alone trigger someone to lose their sanity. paula may have wished that people would cease from doubting someone's capacity due to race and physical appearance. paula may have wished that people would stop pre- judging.

he was holding a bottle of tanduay, his third for the day. this encounter moved me, and i guess it's worth to share.

Blog entries are owned and copyrighted by Leah Bulacan © All Rights Reserved 2012. Unauthorized use, copy, editing, reproduction, publication, duplication and distribution of the blog content, without his explicit permission, is punishable by Law.

500 days of summer (my version)

i met my tom a year ago, in the fine white-sand beach called Boracay. i never noticed him. i was either too tipsy to notice anyone or i never really found him attractive.

well i guess i did. my friends and i were killing the time away. i was sipping a milkshake cocktail when the waiter approached us holding 3 bottles of beer. someone, he said, bought those for us. i never wanted to bother knowing where they came from but my friend was insisted.


then along came my Tom. wearing a blue printed shirt, smiling. he was never physically what i wanted in a guy and he never will, well unless he gains 5 or more inches in height and some more pounds (i like chubby guys). but the night was eventful. i was facing his friend, he was facing mine, they were sort of matching my Tom with my girlfriend and i thought they kinda clicked.

i may have liked the way he smiled, the way his eyes kind of smiled too. i could say he was cute, found him a bit cuter when i sensed he was clever (ah yeah smart guys turns me on). after the bottles were emptied, everyone danced and i just watched them from afar. that was just that, no more conversations after it, no exchanging of phone numbers (not on my end but he and my friend got each others' digits). i never expected i will get to meet anyone of them again.

and i did. i got to keep in touch with Tom again. thanks to facebook. we went out to see movies, viewed usher's concert together, had several coffee dates, and it was blissful. several months passed by and i wondered why he never told me he liked me, why he never even dared touch my hand. he'd always want to see me, always invite me out but that was never enough for me to feel he liked me more than a friend. i need to brand what we were doing. i did not tell him what my confusion was all about and somewhere around july,we suddenly stopped communicating.

i missed him. i got into an open relationship yet it was him i was thinking about. he knew about it one day then confided that he was hurting, that he really liked me, that he would not ask me out if he did not. we never stopped communicating until then: emails, YM and FB chats, SMS, calls and whathaveyou's. he made me feel he wanted to be the one always beside me, and i held on to that. he made me have the impression that if we were both single, we'd definitely end up in each other's arms (he immediately had a girlfriend after he knew about my relationship). he made me have the impression that he was not that happy with her girl, that we were two crazy people who liked each other a lot but never got to know that they did, thus, ended up in separate ways.

we ended up being single, both of us, i ended it up with my guy late november. he was still with his girl at that time but he insisted on booking a flight towards boracay so he could be with me. yet things got worse. december came, he let me know that they broke up because of a text message from me. they have already broken up after he assured me that he will make it to boracay. his last text read 'i need to think things over.'

few days after visiting him in his house, he finally realized he loved his ex girlfriend (xgf at that time but gf again a day or two afterwards) and can never afford to lose her. i was good with that, i could never expect US to be each other's rebound partner, yet he left me with no closure.

january came by. got a call in the middle of the night(3 freakin' am) telling me to wait foe his text about the big favor he was to ask me of. i never heard from him for a month until that night, i mean dawn and i never really wanted to. turns out, he needed me to deny ever dating him, to just say we met last march and that was all. he asked me if i was mad, and i said i did not know what to say anymore. in his seemingly demmanding tone he said (it was all about exchanging of text messages) let me know if you can or can't do it, because this time, i wanna be serious with her. the following day my inbox was screaming a message, with the most demeaning word i've ever gitten so far: please stick with the game plan, we just met last march. the word game plan kept ringing in my head.

in my sourgraping days i'd imagine myself responding to that message with the words "yeah, sure. to really deny everything won't require any effort, having met you is something someone shan't be proud about." i hated him for a day or two but wht i hated more is his lack of decnecy in asking for a big favor that will kind of hurt my dignity.

***
i cannot even compare him to Tom in the movie, Tom was sure he liked summer. maybe all along i thought he was Tom, and I was summer, yet the truth is, he was Tom, eyeing another Summer, leaving me and denying having known me.)

his last words were "i am sorry leah." well i guess that was sorry for not choosing me, sorry for making me believe things he really could not stand for. i was good with that. just like Tom who will meet his "Autumn", i know i will get to meet mine. i saw everything coming but just like all similar instances, i never got to be emotionally prepared.

for a week after he told me his 'i need to think things over' message, i had this sinking feeling. i had this idea that i would always be someone's second choice. i run low on self esteem and felt unpretty, unwanted, especially because of the fact that this is not the first time this has happened (went serious with a guy before who said the exactly the same i need to think things over spiel, the guy he ended up with a close friend, seeing someone else while he was seeing me, wtf? haha).

i am writing this down not to let people know how complicated my relationships were. i am writing this down not to arouse sympathy, from you, one of the few readers of my blog. i am writing this down to remind me of my capacity of loving, of immediately forgiving people who've hurt me, intentionally or not. i am writing this for you, for the US that never were, for the US that was just a pigment of my imagination. i am writing this, realizing that you came in to my life, to open my eyes and see the fact that one day, i will get to meet someone i will be sure about.

TOM: you never wanted to be anyone's girlfriend and now you're someone's wife. i just don't understand that.
SUMMER: it surprises me too. i just woke up one day and knew...
TOM: knew what?
SUMMER: what i was never sure of when i was with you.
(not the exact words but this is how i recall it)



Blog entries are owned and copyrighted by Leah Bulacan © All Rights Reserved 2012. Unauthorized use, copy, editing, reproduction, publication, duplication and distribution of the blog content, without author's explicit permission, is punishable by Law.

one of them

i'd often hear them cry and wonder why it ended that day when they were just so happy the day before.

the truth is we never get to be prepared for things that end.

the truth is we never get to be warned about the day the usual patterns are halted.

the truth is we never get to move on right away because we see things coming.

the truth is, things just end because they are meant to, and all we gotta do is move on and stop overdoing analysis, cease from exaggerating justifications, and move away from bombarding ourselves with what if's and what should have been's.

all of these i say to myself.

Blog entries are owned and copyrighted by Leah Bulacan © All Rights Reserved 2012. Unauthorized use, copy, editing, reproduction, publication, duplication and distribution of the blog content, without his explicit permission, is punishable by Law.

palubog na perlas ng silangan

bumili ng frapuccino sa ngalan ng planner ng Starbucks, lustayin ang tatlong libo sa isang bar sa malate, magshopping sa Hong Kong, at mag-order ng i-phone 4 via net.

ang babayarin mo sa starbucks, sobra pa sa pangkain ng isang maralita sa isang araw, ang tatlong libo’y pambili na sana ng gamot para sa tubercolosis ng aleng nakatira sa squatters area na pinagwawalang- bahala na lang ang karamdaman dahil wala siyang pera, ni walang makain sa isang araw, ang pamasahe mo papuntang Hong Kong para mag liw-aliw ay sapat na para makapag-pagawa ng bahay ang isang pamilyang nasalanta ng bagyo.

ang sarap siguro maging mayaman. marahil ay naiisip din nila ang sitwasyon ng mga maralita, naaawa din siguro sila. pero hindi naman sila pwedeng mamuhay dukha para lang maipakita ang kanilang simpatiya. sinong tangang mayaman ang titipirin ang sarili dahil sa guilt na nadarama sa hindi pagka-pantay pantay ng distribusyon ng yaman sa tao? ni hindi rin natin sila mapipilit na maging pilantropo, pera nila ‘yon eh, silang mag- dedecide kung sa’n ito gagastusin.

nakakadismaya. lalong humihirap ang mga taong naghihikahos sa buhay, habang padami ng padami naman ang binibilang na salapi ng mga taong ‘mas pinagpala.’

sana fairytale na lang ito, sana’y magkaroon ng kontribyusyon ang lahat ng mayayaman sa Pilipinas para sa kapakanan ng mga maralita. happy ending? malabo.

may mga pilantropo naman, pero ang ilan sa kanila, ginagawa ‘yon para lalong bumango ang kanilang pangalan, para maalala sila ng mga botante sa eleksyon, samakatuwid, para lokohin ang mga tao. ang gagastusin ng mga taong yan para sa ika nila’y charity, mababawi nila kung naluklok na sila. ang dali lang namang magnakaw mula sa pondo ng bayan, ang dami nang gumagawa no’n, political figure man o hindi.

may pag-asa pa tayo.

may pag-asa pa rin naman tayo kahit na tayo ang pumapasan sa lumobong utang ng namahingang diktador. ganyan naman ang nangyayari eh, kasalanang ng isa, lahat mapaparusahan. para ka na ring nag-train para maging sundalo, magkakasala si Pepe at kayong lahat ang papasan nito, pagagawan kayo ng thesis, individual, haha. akala mo nakatakas ka na sa gawaing pang- eskwela.

para nga tayong mga trainee soldiers, pinahihirapan tayo ng mga nakatataas sa atin. buti pa nga ang mga OCS may papupuntahan ang paghihirap nila sa kampo, eh tayo? naghihirap tayo dahil sa korupsyon, pagiging makasarili ng mga taong dapat ay tinitingala natin, anung resulta? lalo tayong maghihirap, hanggang sa masanay na tayo sa kahirapan at dina mag-asam pang bumangon. pinapatay ‘nila’ ang pangarap ng maga tao, ninanakaw nila ang kakaramput na pag-asang nais pa sana nilang lumago.

sa kabila ng pagkahapo sa bayang tila palubog na, may pag-asa pa rin tayo. nakawin man ‘nila’ ito, bibigyan tayo ng Diyos ng panibagong pag-asa, at hindi na ‘nila’ ito mananakaw pa.

Blog entries are owned and copyrighted by Leah Bulacan © All Rights Reserved 2010. Unauthorized use, copy, editing, reproduction, publication, duplication and distribution of the blog content, without his explicit permission, is punishable by Law.

crash and burn

a phrase usually sang out loud by those people whose hearts were broken.

i could not fathom, though, how painful it is to really crash and burn; i am talking about the phrase minus the metaphor, i am talking about talking about the phrase, pictured literally.

few hours after i cried over the car accident scene from CHARLIE ST. CLOUD, i woke up to be notified that the same incident happened to my beau’s sister. i wished it was exactly the same, but it was not. it was not the usual car accident i see in the movies.

i thought about her screaming, gasping for air which was nearly out of her reach. sweat, blood and tears; none of which she cared about wiping through her handkerchief. i thought about the man who miraculously saved himself from the tragic event, while she awaits for all the pain to end, in that car where her body burnt, her legs cut in two.

her family never knew the man. as the PHILIPPINE STAR correspondent put it, “her relationship with the man cannot be ascertained.” the news’ tagline branded him as a businessman residing in BUROT, TARLAC, but few days later we came to know that his real name was hidden somewhere in someone’s attaché case, we came to know that he was not residing in BUROT, we came to know that he is a filthy rich man, with three construction companies under his tutelage, a filthy rich man who can afford to have sports cars viewed as toys boys eagerly want to collect.

a filthy rich man. i want to keep myself from writing about the technicalities, about the details of this incident which could be a collaboration of crime causing the death of a 21-year old woman whose daughter was earnestly awaiting her return. my attention being called due to me talking about this maybe farfetched, but if not, i could not care less.

the family was restless. they were driving to and fro; from the house towards the police station, from the police station towards the morgue, from the morgue towards the scene where the incident occurred, and so forth. the driver of the car, FRM (filthy rich man) cannot be spoken to because he’s gotten himself a lawyer to back him up, he’s gotten himself a lawyer even before the family learned about the accident. he had the right to remain silent, and he had multi-million dollars, too.

three days after it all happened, we’ve heard different versions of the story. we’ve observed the PEOPLE IN CHARGE doing everything they can to DELAY EVERYTHING THEY OUGHT TO BE DOING. but with the family’s persistence, the body which has been sitting in the morgue for three days, was finally sent home, the identity finally confirmed through dental records.

i have learned that nothing beats persistence, not fame, not money. the PEOPLE IN CHARGE were all appalled as they knew that the family sought help from a close friend, from someone working for MALACANANG. they were all flabbergasted when the family was able to coordinate with the Forensic Expert, the only one in the Philippines. what took a week for others to have him work on a case, it took only one phone call from the family, and persistence, persistence, lots of it.

we do not know why FRM’s real name was then hidden, we do not know why my friend’s body turned into what seems to be strips of black burnt wood but her phone and key and some valuables still good as we last saw them, we do not know why we have in all of us an intuition that SOME people were paid to obstruct justice, we do not know the real story. we do not know it, NOT YET.

some cases i have heard about, cases which had victims crying out of injustice, made me think before that justice is ONE BIG PIE good enough for us to share with everyone, but is first served to those who has gotten authority out of wealth or fame (or both) or what have you, with which leftovers are given to the less fortunate. and when there is greed, not even a midget of justice are given to those who does not have “IT.”

this is not one of those cases. the family will make it certain that justice will be served, sumptuously hot, fresh from the oven.

Blog entries are owned and copyrighted by Leah Bulacan © All Rights Reserved 2010. Unauthorized use, copy, editing, reproduction, publication, duplication and distribution of the blog content, without his explicit permission, is punishable by Law.

wishin' it's milk and honey- for everyone

i support World Vision Foundation

i have dreams, so does everyone.

i want to further my career, to procure a house, to one day settle down with ease.
i want to have more so that i could buy the stuff i only see in magazines, to sit down and worry about what to wear and what tourist spot to visit next, to be snuggled with luxury. heck, who’d say ‘no’ to those?
but i know that i know more than that, i want a simple life, i’ve always wanted simplicity. yes it feels good to be wealthy, but do we really need to
be?

i don’t need a foreign boyfriend who can lead the way to a greener pasture, i don’t even need a greener pasture, what’s the need to search if Philippines is my beloved home and it’s green enough for me, i’ll live here as long as my body would allow me to and i’ll never have to leave to make a living.

i claim this place as what the Lord promised as the lee flowing with milk and honey, i’ll be successsful, and by success i don’t mean material prosperity. i am happy that i am able to help my family (that their eyes are in their distinct glow during 15th and 30th, haha), that i’ve got a nice paying job, and that He bestowed me with creative pair hands, that in my own little ways, makes a difference.

whenever greed comes knockin’ at my door, let alone wants to smash its way towards my entity, all i do is think about the less-fortunate ones who’d die to be in the comfort i’m at, i think about the man with the big tumor near his jawline who barely makes it through the day, of the woman who can’t buy her prescripted pills, of the homeless family who doesn’t know where they’re headed to.

and that’s when it hurts not to have more, the more i think about them and their lives which is way far in being luxurious, the more i wanna be more, the more i wanna be more involved in investing to charity.

yet it’s so deploring to think that while others brag about their new pair of flops which is worth other people’s one-month wage, when others sip from the bottle of a mineral water which is too costly that it’s more than enough to give decent meals to hundreds of empty tummies, when others does not know anymore how to spend their money, a bigger percentage of people struggle to survive. life definitely is unfair, but it’d be more tolerable if everyone owns the heart to share.

it feels so good to be able to help- to share a piece of comfort that we enjoy, but it sometimes hurts a little to have limited means to do so. i wanna be more, i wanna have more so i could give more…

Blog entries are owned and copyrighted by Leah Bulacan © All Rights Reserved 2010. Unauthorized use, copy, editing, reproduction, publication, duplication and distribution of the blog content, without his explicit permission, is punishable by Law.

it's a sorta fairytale

everyone dreams of their own version of a happily ever after. and i am not an exception.


as mushy as it may sound, i have always dreamt of ending up with my first love, of exchanging vows with with my bestfriend who turned as my special someone nearly six years ago, somewhere in the second semester of my sophomore year in college.

everyone would envy the kind of relationship we had. we never fought over a thing for more than a day, we were in a long distance for nearly three years but people would say we still kept the love aflame, we set out our plans in the future, our parents became comfortable with the idea of us walking through the isle one day, we were each other’s bestfriends.


for some reason or for random or for mixed up reasons, the magic was lost. the love was still there but it was slowly dying, i would not know when it started, i am pretty much sure he was consistent, that while i was just convincing myself that everything will run smoothly between us even though we were apart, i knew he was still the same guy who was madly in love with me.


i was thinking of the major reason why i left him. it could be because i was becoming too weary to wait for him to work in Manila so we could often see each other - too weary that when it happened, that by the time he did what he was supposed to do years back, the excitement with all the love was slowly diminishing. it could also be because of the fact that i once observed that i loved him too much that i had to stop and control it, and by doing so, i lost the feeling altogether, or it could be due to the petty fights we had during his first few weeks of stay in Manila: what with our opening versus closing schedule causing him to be grumpy at times when he’s waiting for me and what with me prioritizing my friends at times instead of having lunch with him.


i would not know what happened, why i lost the spark. i was at one time, jealous on him having a crush on his wave mate who’s a SARA- MYER look-alike (however that surname is spelled) then i suddenly turned to someone who can’t respond to his sweetnots over the phone. i concluded that the problem was me.
i should have been more considerate, more supportive or more of what a girlfriend could have been. i should have never thought about leaving him few days after he broke down crying in front of me. i should have cleaved to my promise of understanding him or whatever situation we are with, i should have never disappointed his parents who were hoping i will take care of him as he is just starting to stay in Manila. i should have thought of staying, and of finding a way on how to be as crazy in love with him as i was 6 years ago.


but there’s no turning back, i am firm with my being alone right now, not because i don’t want to take my words back, but because this is what i think i ought to do, i might be wrong, or right. i would not care less. i am firm with my being alone right now and with doing nothing about love, in not finding it, in not waiting for it, and in just sitting around thinking that the notion of a fairytale is a bit of a blur in my life for the meantime.

Blog entries are owned and copyrighted by Leah Bulacan © All Rights Reserved 2010. Unauthorized use, copy, editing, reproduction, publication, duplication and distribution of the blog content, without his explicit permission, is punishable by Law.