Pagkahaba-haba man ng prusisyon sa simbahan din ang tuloy.
Yup, I am moving out of Pasay. In a period of a little over two months, I'd be out of the place I have begun to call home. I'm packing my things and heading back home to Manila where my travels began. It's really just a few minutes away but I feel like it's traveling across the seas.
I'd be leaving behind almost five happy, sad, joyful, mad, wild and crazy years in my adult life. Am I sad about it? Yeah. But at the same time, I feel I've a sense of a new adventure lying ahead. So, I suppose, I am also a bit excited. Whatever lies ahead, well, only Batman knows. :-)
In the meantime, I have been slowly getting rid of some stuff. Things I think should have another life in someone else's possession. Yesterday, I began the process of little-by-little, letting go of some "stuff".
I gave Neil (Sheila's boyfriend) a drawing I have kept for several years now. I was glad he liked it. Well, that's one thing I won't be seeing prancing about anymore every time I pass by it on my wall. Henlie also got one. That's two less works from my wall. It's my advanced birthday gifts for them.
I've also finally decided that this one should be taken down from my wall and placed in a gallery. It's a sort of "paean" for Andre and his troubles. Eventually, he'll move on - to a much better life, I hope.
I call this one "Blue Sky" (not the biscuit ha?). It comes in a nice solid black frame and heavy enough that if thrown on the head of a burglar, can thwart his evil desires of thievery.
It'll be available at 1/OF Gallery. (Yeah, shameless plugging again.)
I wrote the text beneath around February 2007.
11” x 17”
pen and ink on acid-free paper
pen and ink on acid-free paper
“I AM TIRED OF MY LIFE” is an oft-repeated statement of someone I know dearly. It’s a statement that I can’t blame him for mentioning.
He lost his house twice. He lost a chance at romance. He lost a niece and almost lost his mother who is now groping for her sanity. Now he’s battling for his life in a hospital. There’s not much of a happy moment in between these tragedies, and no matter at how much cheering up I or anyone can give him, his is a life full of it. One can even say it’s already his middle name or it’s an invasive twin attached to his side.
For the past few years he’s been battling a tsunami of emotions predicated by a proportional seesawing of his weight and the last time he gave a full and hearty laugh of joy is now but a distant memory for him. Months and days have been spent crying and cursing at the life he leads.
“When will this fucking hardship end? If this is God’s idea of a joke, then He’s much too cruel.”
I am left dumbfounded at the face of this person’s despair. I, who thinks life is hard enough trying to survive running after an elusive dream, merely have to look at this person just to humble myself.
“Do you know why the sky is blue?”
“Aside from a Yahoo commercial I have heard about why it’s blue, no, I don’t.”
“It’s His way of mocking people like me – prisoners of our own tragedies. It’s like you’re in a 10 x 10 feet prison cell, with nothing but rough bricks and bars around you. Then there’s this one small window high above and the only thing you can see is a tiny piece of blue sky. That’s Him saying, “You can only see this, but you can’t touch it.”
A few weeks have passed. The operation saved his life and I got this message from him, “Am okay. Got out of the hospital and my mom’s doing better. I guess I won’t see you for a while until I get to sort things out. Take care.”