Christmas Gift-giving Pet Peeves

When I was a kid, I used to go to my relatives hoping for a Christmas present: a gift wrapped in a box, or money. On the other hand, my mother does the giving part. When kids or adults come to our house during Christmas, she lines up the gifts that she had prepared for them in advance for easy gift-giving.

It’s only 8 days before Christmas and I have made a listing of my pet peeves when it comes to gift-giving:

#1. “Hey, someone’s asking if you’re going home this Christmas, you know what to do about it.”

One of the things that make me unhappy is receiving a text message like that. I was like, “Hey mom, do I owe that person anything that’s why they’re asking me for something this Christmas?”

I love giving gifts to people but at times like this, I do not feel like giving because the essence of giving is ruined by the act of asking.

#2. “Hey it’s Christmas, go to your ninang and ask for your Christmas gift.”

First of all, I have not read in any book that one of the duties of a godparent is to give their godchildren gifts, especially during Christmas. Godparents’ duties, to my knowledge, are to give guidance to their godchild and to teach them God’s commandments.

Kids, I would love to give you your presents but please, if your parents tell you that, remind them that godparents are not ATM’s nor Department Stores.

#3. “Hey it’s Christmas, can we forget about my debt and just consider it as your Christmas gift?”

Hey, that was not the condition we agreed upon when you asked me that money. You said you’re going to pay me after two weeks. It’s been 6months already. Are you really gonna wait for Christmas everytime to escape from your debt? Shame on you. Seriously.

#4. “Hey it’s Christmas and you just arrived from abroad, can I borrow some money?”

Friends, you should know that like you, I work to earn money and working abroad doesn’t make a difference. Yes, I earn more (because of peso exchange rate) but at the same time, I also spend on my daily necessities so if you want money, please learn to work hard and save!

The essence of gift-giving is to give whole-heartedly; asking for a gift is a different story.

Songs of the Heart

A SONG OF A BROKEN HEART

Someday. Somehow.

We will find a way to see each other.

Be it in our dreams or in another world.

As long as our hearts beat for each other;

And as long as we are looking at the same star.

For our hearts, even though broken;

Will never stop loving.

A SONG OF A HEALING HEART

Someday. Somehow.

We will find a way to forget each other;

And let time mend the hurt of our melancholic memories.

To welcome strangers and start anew;

By the pain of heartache that taught us to love ourselves.

HAHAHA

November 25, 2014

Humor me please.

I am entitled to my own happiness. I know I can do all things that I want to do. I can’t. These stupid thoughts are clouding my mind and it doesn’t make any sense. What good is it to become an accomplished person when you can accomplish nothing. Perhaps, I’m just hungry for fame. Or money even. What I do now have nothing to do in my future endeavors. How can I say so? Because I’m lame. I don’t know what’s going on and I don’t know what this is going to be. For old times' sake I can’t figure out who I am. No. This is not about me. This is just some typical bullshit kind of thing that happens to my brain when it doesn’t have anything to think about. Can I stop it? No. Unless I watched some youtube videos or read some novels. But I don’t want to read and I’m still at work so it is not legit to watch youtube videos. But I do that. I watch youtube videos at work. Shame on me. No. Shame on youtube for being there. As if. Haha. This is crap. I stopped my brain. I’m done.

No I’m not done yet. My long-bony fingers keep on typing the words puking from my brain. I’m drinking tea. Rose fruity Milk tea. It’s good. Really. It’s just that I poured excessive amount of water that it doesn’t taste milky anymore but it taste fruity still. It’s some Taiwanese tea. I like it. I’ll buy some from the grocery store next time. If they have it.

So. I’m hearing voices now. But of course they are not voices from my head. I’m not a lunatic. I’m at the office didn’t I tell you that already. But well, that can happen. When I’m super bored. But not like this bored because this boredom makes me write things like this. Yeah. There are types of boredom. Boredom which makes you watch movies. Boredom which makes you write stuff. Boredom which makes you read. Boredom which makes you dance; sing; drink; kiss someone; make fun of someone; kill someone? No. Killing is not something that bored people do. Killing is something that those not on their right minds do. Left minds? Hah. I told you to humor me. It’s not funny at all.

My palms are sticky already. It’s sweating. Excessive sweating. I have a small electric fan on my left. It’s on. It’s working. It’s not mine. I borrowed it from the neighboring table. I borrow it everyday. But just because I used it more than the owner use it doesn’t make it mine. I know that. I just want to clarify it to you. Not that I want it to be mine but yes, maybe I do. I have hopes that the owner will give it to me. It’s nearing Christmas anyway. So, where am I. My conversation with my mind stopped. Someone talked to me that’s why. I ordered an egg sandwich. I’m hungry. Must be the tea. No. I always get hungry.

My brain is not puking words anymore. I’m starting to have conversation with the people around me. Is it better than to write you,  monologue? So now I am calling you  a monologue. Well it’s good right. Because when something has been given a name it means that that something is important to the person who gave its name. Now you are a part of my life. You are a noun now. Be thankful.

Carefully. Carefully what? I’m thinking carefully on how I would end your life, monologue. I know I shouldn’t do that because I gave you a name but what can I do? I have to end you because I have to do some other things. Things like what? Like watching youtube videos? No. Things like doing my work. I’m at the office, duh. Weren’t you paying attention when I told you that. But what are you gonna do? I don’t know. Stare. Stare at the people passing by. Stare at the bosses. Stare at my computer monitor. Yeah. Writing you is better. It makes me look like I’m doing something (work) when I’m not really doing something (work). It’s a good ploy isn’t it? I’m a genius. I know that. I know that when I started doing things like this. Because I’m a freak. No. I’m weird. No. I’m bored. Yep. That’s it. I’m bored. I’m a genius because I’m bored. Well maybe that’s the conclusion. Maybe I should get bored always so I will become a better genius? Or not. Maybe I should just read so I’ll become a genius? That’s not it either. Just work already.

NO!

3:17pm

Tinder & Fire

“To what do I owe you?” asked the tinder to the fire.

“You do not owe me anything. You do not owe the world anything. You are you when they created you. You are you when I found you.” answered the fire.

“But you saved me”, insisted the tinder. “You saved me from nothingness. The world did not offer me anything. For I am so weak they threw me away. For I am so fragile they denied of my existence!”

“I did not save you. I chose you. I chose you not because I need something from you. I chose you because I love you.”

“I fear nothingness”, said the tinder. “Take me with you. Nothing is more fearful than being alone. I do not want to live in the dark. I’m afraid of the bats. I’m afraid of the fireflies. I’m afraid of the dragons. My fear is inevitable. Just please take me with you.”

“I wandered for so long. I have searched the mountains. I have crossed mighty rivers. I have survived snowy hills. I did all those just to find you. Of course I won’t leave you. You are the reason I live. And for you I will die.”

Daddy! Wake Up!

She was born on a summer night by a hilot practitioner. Their youngest daughter with pretty brown eyes and small lips who he called “bunso ng papa”. She was his apple of the eye.

She grew-up and became a daddy’s girl. Wherever he is, she’s there. Whatever he does, she does. When they need to find him, she’ll know where to look. When they need him home, she’s the only one who can make him go home. He loved her very much and he’s so proud of her precious bunso.

Years passed and she’s already in college.

It was a rainy day in the month of May. A day after her mother’s birthday. She was happily bathing in the rain when he asked her to make halo-halo. She gladly complied. They were so happy eating together. She, him, her mom. Afterwards, he left.

He came back that afternoon complaining headache. She was watching tv. He lay down on the sofa and asked her to massage his head. She was reluctant being disturbed by the situation. She complied. He massaged him for a short time while her mother called their nurse nephew-in-law. He recommended some medicine but is not available so he suggested bringing him to the hospital. He’s having high blood pressure.

They asked a friend to drive him. She joined her mom. When they arrived, a stretcher was provided. They lay him down. His eyes are gradually closing. Her mother is worried. She’s massaging his hands and feet. They reached the room. He’s barely holding on. They started using the flat iron in his body. He showed no resistance. One time. Two times. Three times. He’s not responding. His eyes finally closed. She heard her mother say, “Your father is gone.”

She doesn’t know how she would react to the situation. She doesn’t feel anything. She just kept quiet thinking how she should feel about it. Her mom told her to go back home and tell their relatives the situation.

They prepared everything in the house. They cleaned it so fast as if a typhoon came and washed everything out. His body arrived. They lay him in the bed they prepared in the living room.

That night she slept beside him. She embraced him all night telling him to wake up. She kissed him and said “I love you” for the first time. He did not respond. She cried.

The wake gave her a hard time. Everybody keeps on asking what happened. She felt tired for her mother telling the story over and over again.

On his funeral his bestfriend and eldest son gave the eulogy. She knew she wanted to say things but they did not ask her so she just sat and listen. There were many people there sharing sympathy and telling great things about him which she didn’t know. He is loved by many.

Six years had passed and she still regret that day when she was reluctant for his request. If only she knew what to do. If only the people in the hospital have the right knowledge he might have responded.