Inches

It was one of those nights, you know. When you're in some random queen-sized bed, in some random room, in some random sleazy hotel, and some random guy has just left. There had been the most awkward silence after. And it seemed like hours before he finally decided that he should probably leave. He said something was wrong with you. He asked you when was the last time you did this. And you lied and said the last time was two years ago. Although it was really only a few weeks since. And the guy did not question you because you were so bad at it that it was believable.

You extended your arm across that empty space in the bed, wondering what has happened to you. The other guys before, they said you were good at this. Extremely good even, that they did not want to lose you even if they never wanted to get serious with you. So good then. But now something has broken and you... you're left caressing that empty space on that vast bed. Feeling it. Stroking it. Caressing it, and hoping there was someone warm there. Not just any random guy. Someone warm.

And in your head, you run through all the guys you've slept with. Those you can remember. And you realize that it wasn't really them who were cold. It was you. And try as you might, you just don't feel that warmth you used to feel before. You know this, but you can't do anything about it.

So you... You just lay there, hoping that you'll feel a bit more lonely so the scene would be perfect. But nope. That's beyond you now. You're just lying there. Cold. And broken. Unromantic.

The Death of Sir Bry

These days, I feel like my life is being twisted into another finale of sorts. Like Mat Cauthon, it seems like a pair of dice is rattling inside my head. I need to make an important decision very soon, but I'm too busy with work at the moment to allow myself to really think this through. Goodness knows that I shouldn't even be writing in here. I can't afford the time to reflect. But since I can't make myself move forward in writing the book at the moment then I might as well straighten the road ahead of me by picking apart these knots while I can.

And what's this very important decision that I'm bugging you about? Well, it's nothing really grand. It's just that I'm thinking of quitting the academe.Which like, has been my job since forever.

You see, I've always had this drive to try and do something else. I've been told that I do well as a teacher, and goodness knows how many students have cried just to prove it. This is all very fulfilling and flattering for me, and the universe knows how grateful I am to be a part of these students' lives and I have discussed this more fully in several of my older posts. Education is my passion. Or should I say, was. I... I don't know what really happened. I thought that I could teach until my last breath. But I guess I'm not as noble and self-sacrificing as I once thought I was. From recent events, it turns out that education is only a secondary priority.

I don't mean to be a humbug, but the truth is I am not challenged anymore by teaching. I can see it in my head already. I'll be doing the same things over and over again. As I've said, I don't really make an effort when I teach. I just flow. And as it is, I do okay. Even if you add research to the formula, the variety it will add to my job will not be enough. I will be bored. In fact, I am bored. And I hate this feeling. No growth means no go in my book.

Of course, one could argue that I can choose to grow vertically. But then again, even if I do secure a more stable position in this field, I'd be doing the same things. Even if you add the prospect of administration as I go up the ladder, I don't see how it can present things which would be challenging for me. I need to go out now. I need to start anew. I want to discover the other things that I don't know I have.

It goes without question that I would hate to leave my students. This issue had never been their fault. On the contrary, they are the only major reason why I would consider staying. But unfortunately, I'm not sure now that what they do is proving to be enough. At this rate, if I stay, I'd end up a robot, no matter how fun I make my classes. I must light my fires again, and my job at the moment is just not doing this anymore.

I'm not sure if I'm right, but I just think that there is so much more to life that I want to experience. And the thing is, I wouldn't discover these things until I leave the academe. The practical (and logical) people, well they would say that I'm acting the fool again. They'd tell me that I can do these things later. They'd tell me to build a solid foundation first. They'd tell me to secure my future instead of continuously flipping back and forth. One day I'm dead set on doing one thing. The next day I've completely convinced myself to do the opposite.

Despite all these being said and done, still, nothing is final yet. I might make a compromise between my purpose and my personal growth. I might learn to find a new reason to stay in the academe. But then, my instinct is telling me to go now. It had been a faint voice before, but now it's becoming louder and more and more insistent. I should go. I need to go. I must go. Now.

At the moment, I honestly still don't have a direction. I have gut feelings maybe, but I'm taking no steps to pursue them yet. As of now, I'm really lost. But something tells me that I should follow this feeling all the same. In the end, it's better to get lost and fail because of my own rash decisions, than to stay dissatisfied in one track because I'm too cowardly to try new things.

It's almost as if I've had enough of this kind of life. In a way, you can say that I've made the most out of being a teacher. I've squeezed it dry and I've reaped results teachers more experienced than me could only dream of. Now I'm done. I'm ready to move on. I'm ready to start my second life.

***

I was playing Civilization IV a month ago and I stumbled upon this Euripides quote from the game:

"The wisest men follow their own direction."

I've been following my own path for most of my life but I just wish it would make me feel wiser. As it is, all it brings me is confusion and frustration. Wagonloads of them. Maybe one day, it will. Though I half-wish this will never happen because the moment I deem myself wise, I know I'd feel empty.

PV = nRT

I closed the gate of our house and I stepped out onto the rain-soaked street. Though I had a destination, I still felt lost. My steps were slow and uncertain, and though it was raining a bit, I didn't feel like using an umbrella. I did not have enough space in my mind to worry about getting wet. And of all the people I would come upon as I left home, I saw my Mom walking towards me. She looked smaller, somehow, and other times I would have essayed a weak and guilty smile as she walked past but I never even looked at her that time. I ignored her as if I didn't know my own Mom. And that's okay because I'm sure she feels the same.

Things have changed between us, and they've changed so much beyond what she could mend. Long gone were the days when I could approach her with a problem she could fix. I've grown up so much that I've grown out of the simple domestic life I used to be part of. Come to think of it, I've never really approached her with anything serious. As in never. Because I know my issues were far beyond what she could comprehend.

I spent the weekend over at my friends' house. It was lucky that both of them were my close friends before they got married to each other, otherwise I wouldn't be able to stay for the night. I wouldn't have anywhere to go to, if that wasn't the case. My other friends, well, they're too far from me. Miles away, they were, in different time zones spread across the globe. I'm the only one left here. And when I think about how spread out we all are now, it only adds to my loneliness.

Being with my friends brought me calm. It made me more stable, in a way. Somehow, when I'm with friends, I am shielded from the darker things in my mind. I don't think they could get me completely, since I don't think anyone ever will, but at the least, I know that they would try to understand me all the same, and that brings me comfort, albeit only temporarily.

It had been an amazing experience, those two days I spent at their house. Though we did not really do anything special. We just lounged about in their queen-sized bed, reading magazines, browsing the internet, and watching movies and TV series. Nothing extraordinary. But I suppose that was what I needed at the moment - a semblance of normalcy.

Even how they dined together as a family proved to be a wonderful experience for me. That they eat their meals together regularly. They talk about mundane, sometimes bordering on the most frivolous, topics, and it wasn't exactly a mentally-stimulating experience. But just the fact that they were all there, as a family, being normal... That that was how things are supposed to be. I... I could just cry.

But I had to go home eventually, and when that night of my departure finally came, I couldn't help but dread how I would feel back home. I knew that immersing myself in their household for a while will only emphasize how dreary my own life was. So I found myself walking away from their house, on a rain-soaked street, with my head bowed and my steps uncertain. I had a destination. I was going back home, but I still felt lost.

Despite all these seemingly undefinable things clouding my head at the moment, somehow, the other people around me, they still make me feel loved. When I got back to work yesterday, I was welcomed. I was missed. People worried about me, and I felt guilty because I felt that I do not really deserve their concern. My students smiled at seeing me back and wondered how I was. They smiled, as if the simple sight of me brought them happiness. I should be happy at that, and of course I am. But I... I couldn't bring their warmth inside my own heart.

And that's the saddest thing, reader. Being confused, and being burdened about the shitty aspects of life - that's sad. But being confused despite being loved? This is worse.

I don't really know how to pick myself up again, reader. When other people ask me for advice, I give them solid and rational ones. That is easy for me, since I've allowed myself to go through many different situations in the past, and the experiences I've had and my objectivity make me more reliable as a source of wisdom. But in this thing, reader? I don't fucking know what to do. I can help others. I can help the world. But I can't help myself. Other people try to support me. And I'm thankful that they do. But I... I still can't help myself.

I wish for this episode to be over. Gawd, I do. Other people rely on me, and they need me to be back on track. It is essential that I get back on track. But how can I heal when the only thing which could help me is to be rid of their dependence on me for a while?

How I wish I could just live for myself for a while. That it would only be me who would be affected if I make a misstep. But now, if I stumble, other people would fall too. And I'm trapped in this situation. I have to let these burdens go, but I can't. I simply can't walk away. There is no one to take my place.

It's frustrating, reader because recently I've devoted my time to finding out the right ideals from which I can wrap my life around. Ideals to be my pillars, my guiding principles on how to live. Unlike other people, maybe I actually already have a semblance of how to really live. But what I haven't figured out is how to live in this world. This world which is, you know, far from being ideal.

Time To Sleep

All week I had been dreaming.

All week, I've been unable to get out of bed and go to work. I'm not exactly a stranger when it comes to absences, but it is only now that I've done so five days in a row. I'm admittedly at my worst career performance. I may have been reckless once or twice before, but never deliberately this... defiant. I don't know how warmly I will be received at work this Monday. In fact, I'm too ashamed (and too afraid) to show my face there ever again. If I only I could just say "I quit" and be done away with this. But I can't. This world simply does not work that way. And I owe my colleagues much more than such a heartless way of saying goodbye.

In the end, no matter how frazzled my psychological state may be at the moment, I am responsible for my students. It would've been so easy. These boundaries between what should be done and what should be avoided should have been clearly defined. This issue isn't even substantial enough to make a good argument. I am wrong, period. But then, it's this same responsibility I am actually running away from. That's the catch.

You see, the trouble with being strong (or at least, trying to be strong) all your life is that sooner or later, that last feather which will break your back will fall. Now I am not going to list down all my burdens, stressors, and deadlines for you since I don't want to have your pity and I don't want to give you a headache. There are just times when, you know, you feel like you've had enough and you have no other recourse to deal with it other than vanishing into thin air.

I haven't talked to anyone since Monday, even to my parents, and it is only this afternoon when I had a moment of lucidity to realize that I fucking need help already. That this is insane and I had to fucking talk to someone. I really was unable to get out of bed, and if you're thinking that I spent the time going to malls or flirting left and right (I wish I did) and pretending that it's sembreak already then you're sadly mistaken. And if you're wondering how my parents dealt with that - how they dealt with me trying to squeeze myself into the corner of my bed and desperately shutting myself off from the rest of the world - well then, let's say this wasn't the first time this happened to me. Besides, we already do live in a mental hospital of sorts, so they're quite used to erratic behavior. They've seen much worse from my brother.

Now reader, I really don't want to go back to those moments on my bed. They're ugly to describe, and just thinking about how I was then twists my stomach into knots. At the moment, I am sitting here on the floor of my friends' bedroom, just in case you're wondering how I got myself out of that stupor. I just need people around me. People I can talk to about these things and yep, I think I'm much better now. Talking does help when it comes to my craziness. At least, now that I've got company, I'm okay. I really don't know what will happen when I get back home. I'm beginning to dread my bed now. Yeah, my recent episode has been that bad.

It's all in my head, you can say. Maybe this is all simply make-believe. I mean, I may be creative enough to invent symptoms or whatever and maybe you wouldn't know the difference. And perhaps you're right. But I wish we could just swap brains for a moment and let me see how you deal with these. Maybe we could swap lives.

It's all in my head, you say, and yeah you're right. Only that everything is all in my head. Everything is all in your head also. And we can go beat our heads up and wax philosophical about these things so don't you dare say that things are simple when it's all in your head.

My dreams are all in my head too yet they make me feel real emotions. I have had such awesome dreams this week you know. Simple themes, really. Like me and my ex working it out again. Like me having a son whose name was Ion. Simple themes, yeah. But that feeling I got when I looked into my son's eyes?  That feeling of stability that knowing the love of my life still feels the same for me after all these years? They were real all the same.

All week I had been dreaming and I got myself lost in my own head. You can say that I'm crazy, dropping off everything just like that. Or maybe all the rest of you are the ones who are crazy, getting yourselves obsessed in rigid man-made structures like careers and tasks and money.

This past week had been an ordeal to endure awake. But when I've muddled through another night of insistent and unbidden thoughts of killing myself and I've managed to fall asleep and dream, it's a different thing. I learn more about things when I'm dreaming.

It says a lot about my life at the moment that I'd rather just sleep and dream than live through it. And yeah, admitting this makes me sad as hell myself.

Yeah...





I suppose...


I suppose it's time to sleep now.

Istranded

Nagpalipas na ako ng isang oras sa Faculty Room para lang humupa na kahit kaunti yung baha sa may Taft. Pero pagdating ko doon, medyo mataas pa rin ang tubig. May mga batang naka-uniform pa na kinuha ang opportunity para kumita ng pera. Naglagay sila ng mga kung anong mga kahoy para makadaan ang mga tao sa baha tapos naniningil sila ng mga barya. Naasar ako dahil nagtitipid ako ng pera ngayon. Sinubukan kong humanap ng ibang daanan pero wala na kaya nagbayad na din ako. Limang piso pa. Wala kasi akong mas maliit na barya at hindi ko alam kung susuklian nila ako if ever.

Umabot ako sa gitna ng Taft at doon, lurkey-lurkey ang mga tao. Nagkalat ang mga estudyante. Nakikipag-patintero sa mga bus at jeep na usad-pagong naman kung umandar. Buti na lang may mga traffic aides at kahit papaano, nababawasan nila ang pagkakabuhul-buhol ng mga sasakyan at tao. Naging tila isang maze ang kalsada. Iniiwasan ng mga tao ang mga bahang lugar. Di naman na ganun kataas ang tubig pero ayoko ding mabasa ang sapatos kong leather kaya sumali din ako.

Nakaabot ako sa usual kong abangan ng bus malapit sa Luneta at nagsimula na akong maghintay ng bus papuntang Las Pinas. Pero as expected, lahat ng bus puno. As in puno kahit yung mga nakatayo. E ayoko namang tumayo sa bus kasi alam ko nang matindi ang trapik, lalo na sa La Salle at Buendia. Kaya nagmatigas akong maghintay pa.

Ngunit after 15 minutes, wala pa din talaga. Kaya inisip kong lumakad na lang papunta sa Lawton. Baka doon makaka-upo pa ako. Kahit na dalawang taon na ako sa Manila area ay hindi ko pa rin kabisado ang lugar. Unlike sa nakasanayan kong Quezon City na derecho lang ang mga daan, sa Manila maraming pasikot-sikot. At tila lahat, main roads. So kahit na hindi ko sure ang pupuntahan ko ay naglakad pa din ako. Otherwise, wala akong patutunguhan.

Nakakatuwa din minsan kapag baha. Doon lumalabas ang creativity ng mga tao. Yung resourcefulness kung paano makatawid without getting your feet wet. Long cut dito. Ikot doon. Akyat sa halamanan sa gitna ng kalsada. Minsan may mga mauunang makahanap ng daan kaya maswerte ka at susundan mo na lang sila. Minsan ikaw mismo mangunguna. At kung dead end pala at mas lalong baha sa dulo e wala kang choice kundi bumalik. Nakakahiya man sa mga nakakita sa iyong ibang tao pero well, at least sinubukan mong humanap ng paraan.

Sinimulan na akong pawisan dahil sa exertion ng ilang minutong paglalakad. At lalong mainit ang pakiramdam dahil naka-jacket pa ako at sobrang humid ng panahon. Hindi rin nakatulong ang mahinang ambon dahil tingin ko ay magkakasakit ako kung mabasa ako nang pawis at pagod. At kung bakit ko pa dinala ang mabigat na textbook ni Harris pauwi noong araw na iyon ay hindi ko mawari dahil dumagdag pa siya sa burden ko. Pero kahit na super uncomfortable at pagod ko na noong mga panahong iyon ay nakuha ko pa ring mag-isip dahil parang ang laki ng symbolism ng pagka-stranded ko sa mga nangyayari ngayon sa buhay ko.

Naisip ko na yung paglalakad pabalik sa ruta ng bus, na yun yung investment phase ng buhay. Kung gusto mong makaupo sa bus at maging komportable, kailangan mong maglakad muna. Kung maghihintay ka lang at di ka gagalaw, baka wala kang masakyan o baka nakatayo ka lang sa bus. Tapos yung iba-ibang strategies ng mga tao para makarating doon, yun naman nga yung kanya-kanya nating diskarte para maka-ahon. Minsan may susundan ka na. Minsan ikaw ang pioneer, which is mas mahirap.

Kagaya naman ng lagi kong ginagawa, kalahati lang ng utak ko ang nasa present kong sitwasyon noon. Yung kalahati, naglalakbay at nag-iisip. At naisip kong wala talaga akong patutunguhan kung nandun lang ako sa bus stop, maghihintay kasama ng iba. Kaya naglakad pa ako pabalik. Hanggang naka-abot na ako sa Lawton. But no, wala pa rin. Di ko maisip kung anong mahika ang meron at kahit na andun na ako sa mismong iniikutan ng bus ay puno pa rin to the bones ang bus. Di ko maalis ang inggit sa mukha ko habang nakatingin pababa sa akin ang ilang nasa bus. At hindi nakakatulong na tila nag-smirk pa yung iba sa aming hindi pa rin makasakay. Sige, kayo na ang maswerte.

Tapos dumadagdag pa sa pagka-asar ko yung fact na heto ako, naghihirap magtrabaho. Naghihirap pa makauwi. Pagod na pagod, pawis na pawis, at hindi alam kung paano makakauwi. Samantalang ang mga tao sa bahay namin, komportable lang sa harap ng TV. Na ang sweldo ko, mapupunta lang sa kanila. Na hindi nila alam kung gaano kahirap din para sa akin ang kumita ng pera, lalo na para sa mga taong hindi naman talaga deserving masuportahan. Nood-nood lang ng TV tapos ako magbabayad ng kuryente. Kumpleto sila kumain, with matching meryenda intervals (walang palya 'to) samantalang ako dalawang beses lang kumain araw-araw. HIndi rin nakatulong nung sinabi ko sa magulang ko na gusto ko sanang magpahinga this sem. Naasar lang siya sa halip na matuwa na kahit papaano, for the first time ever in my whole life, ay mababawasan ako ng mga iisipin. Minsan tuloy naiisip ko na ang tingin lang nila sa akin ay taga-kita ng pera. Na kaya lang sila mabait sa akin dahil doon. Nagka-anak sila para dito.Kasi di ba, sana naintindihan din niya na napapagod din ako. Pero wala eh. Hindi ganun. Kaya yun, sinubukan ko na lang aliwin ang sarili ko kasi baka pumutok ako right then and there sa gitna ng bahang kalsada.

Minsan may mag-jowang napatapat sa akin habang nandun ako mismo sa gitna ng Lawton. Napansin ko sila dahil ang gwapo ng lalaki na naka-school uniform pa. Naka-side view siya samantalang likod lang nung babae ang nakikita ko. Pinapayungan niya yung girl at nakapa-ikot yung kabilang braso niya sa bewang nung girl. Nahuhuli niya akong tumingin pero dahil naisip kong hindi ko na naman siya siguro makikita ulit ay hindi na ako nahiya. I mean, stranded na ako and all, burdened physically, mentally, and emotionally tapos papalampasin ko pa yung chance na mapasaya ang sarili ko kahit in this mababaw way lang? So yun, I got myself lost, imagining na ako yung kasama niya. Na ako yung pinapayungan niya. Tapos inisip ko din kung ano kaya pakiramdam na mahawakan yung arms niya. Yung maramdaman na secure ako, despite all this baha and strandedness.

Pero yun, hindi din naman ako tuluyang nakapag-senti dun. Kasi alam ko na ako din naman ang pasaway when it came to my relationships. Kasi meron namang mga dumating kaso ako lang ang nag-iinarte parati in the end. Kaya na-divert ang hopes of emotional security ko sa lust na lang. Ano kaya feeling nung ka-sex siya? Yun. Yun pwede pa.

Ngunit isang oras na pala ang lumipas at wala pa din talaga akong masakyan. So kailangan ko pang maglakad northward. Kulang pa ang investment ko. And there, I said goodbye to my imaginary lover.

Lumampas na ako ng City Hall at hindi ko na talaga alam kung nasaan na ako exactly. Basta huwag lang akong tatawid ng Pasig River, somehow makikita ko din kung saan nga ba umiikot yung mga Las Pinas buses. Naka-ilang tawid din, pabalik-balik, ngunit umabot ako sa lugar na hindi na pala dinadaanan ng mga bus na kailangan ko. So yun, after nang malayo kong nilakad, bumalik lang din ako. More than two hours na akong lagalag sa puso ng Maynila. Pawisan at basa pa ng ulan.

Tapos doon nag-sink in sa akin, at my most difficult stranded moment, na dapat chill lang ako. Ang exagg na nga ng situation ko eh, so huwag ko na dapat dagdagan internally. Tumigil na lang muna ako sa tapat ng isang tindahan at bumili ng yosi. Next time alam ko na. Next time manood na lang muna ako ng sine. Next time tumambay na lang instead sa mall. Or mag-dinner. Next time, alam ko na. So chill lang, makakauwi din naman ako.

Sinubukan ko yung ibang daanan at this time, nakita ko na ulit yung mga Las Pinas buses. Puno pa rin sila, heaven forbid. At napatigil ako for a while sa ilalim ng overpass. Doon ko nakita yung mga homeless na natutulog at natauhan ako. Around them, aligaga ang mga tao dahil nga sa baha. Pero for them, okay lang. Wala namang bago for them kahit na for the rest of us, it was a night to dread and remember. Doon pa din naman sila matutulog. Narealize ko na ang arte ko dahil ang problema ko lang naman talaga at the moment ay hindi ako makauwi. Pero at least may uuwian ako. E sila?

Kaya naglakad pa ako. Kaya pa 'to. Huwag akong maarte. Konti pa. At yun, magically, may tumigil na bus sa harap ko. And magically, hindi siya puno! Although naunahan pa din ako ng ibang makasakay, may natira pang empty seat for me. At yung feeling nung after nakaupo ka na after halos tatlong oras nang pagtayo? Yung feeling na yun? Serene. Hindi ako ecstatic or triumphant. Serenity ang naramdaman ko instead. At doon ko na-sense na in fairness, kahit na lugmok ako most of the time inside my own head, may mga bagong bagay pa din akong natututunan. Sa mga panahong di ko ineexpect.

Yay. I survived.

Sana kayanin ko pa din. Til this season is over.

Electrique Ushers in the Third Age with its Glorious 32nd Album, "Kingdom Come"

With the recently released Electrique's second four-year greatest hits compilation "Forever Young" gaining critical acclaim from both long-time fans and new listeners, Electrique CEO Mr. Aldasiel wastes no time in basking in his success as he once again turns on his full gears towards his next project, "Kingdom Come" slated for release as early as July this year.

"This is the beginning of a new era in Electrique's career," Mr. Aldasiel announced in a press conference held in the more stable outskirts of his mind amidst an imaginary audience. "It's the beginning of the Third Age, this next four-year period, covering 2013 to 2017. It's daunting to imagine that I would be 32 by the time I release my third greatest hits compilation, and because of that internal pressure, I want my first album for this period to be a cut above my previous works. I want it to be definitive, this transition. With this new album, I want my listeners and fans to be shocked anew about the new heights I am still capable of achieving. I want to give them the impression that they really haven't heard anything yet. That I have much more to deliver."

Electrique received a renewed vigor after it released "Icarus" (2011), arguably its most successful album to date. Form then on, it continued its winning streak with album gems such as "Revelations" (2012), "Head in the Clouds" (2012), and "Electric Dreams" (2013), all gaining Electrique new fans and converting previous naysayers into thinking that this simple personal project is more than a whimsy and is really capable of producing something grand. Can Electrique really scale it up when it already has achieved so much when it comes to mixtape-making?

"'Forever Young' wasn't a difficult album to make since it was a greatest hits album. The songs were already there and mostly I just had to plan their lineup nicely. And the six new songs included there were already in my pocket and I had been simply biding my time until this season came around. So you can say that since "Viral", I wasn't really making a new album. And this is why I still have this pent-up energy and ideas within me to come up with some spanking brand new sounds."

Electrique's last official release, the aformenetioned "Viral", however, failed to achieve its namesake popularity. It received a mediocre reception, recalling the response of its listeners for "Drifter".

"I think the reason why "Viral" did not make it big was because it was essentially a feel bad album. I think it's my saddest album, despite the rampant sexual context. It starts warm and steamy but ends up cold and dry and lonely, and very few listeners will revel in that. Despite a few glitches towards the end, I still think it was a remarkable well-executed album in a thematic sense. It presents a solid story, complete with an emotional progression supported both lyrically and acoustically. However, it bogs its listeners down. Other than that, I admit that its making had been rushed. It ended up half-cooked.

"So I'm going to undo all this lull with this next album, "Kingdom Come". It's going to be about changes and transitions. As with my best works, I want to showcase this theme not only in the lyrics but also in the sound. I've been lucky to unearth some songs which sound fresh, and they're going to dispel the tiredness which permeated "Viral". "Kingdom Come", as the title suggests, is about hope. It is about getting back on track, so some songs in here are definitely paean in nature. But of course, the concept of hope is best executed through overcoming trials so there will also be some downers in here. Not very many I hope. Just enough to deliver my message effectively."

But how exactly will "Kingdom Come" sound? Electrique's recent albums can be roughly classified into two poles: the twangy acoustic ones ("Icarus", "Revelations", "Head in the Clouds") and the synthy electronic ones ("Drifter", "Electric Dreams", "Viral"). Which would it be this time?

"I'm excited with the sound of  "Kingdom Come" because it's a fusion of genres. The base of the songs here are of the usual indie rock/pop palette, but the overtones are liberally laden with synths for more texture. It's the first time I'm doing this, and the results are unusually good. It provided the much-needed freshness I'm aiming for with this record. Hopefully, I will win the hearts of those who like either genre. And of course, there's something new to the sound of the album as well but I won't reveal it at the moment. The title of the album also hints at this new... err, beat. There are so many facets to the title of this album."

As the press conference drew to a close, Mr. Aldasiel gave one last message to its longtime fans.

"You are in for a treat, my friends," he proclaimed while raising his arms in a warm welcoming gesture. "I want this album to be my best album, beating by leagues both "Icarus" and "Head in the Clouds". You will feel that this is indeed, a new era. A new level to sound. A new level to meaning. This is music which will make you feel giddy. Music which will not escape your ears for days maybe weeks. But the message, my dears... The message of this album will be the one which will truly last in your minds and hearts. Beat the drums and sound those trumpets, let our Kingdom Come!"

And with a last resounding hurray from the audience, Mr. Aldasiel retreated into the chaotic confines of his mind to work more on his self-proclaimed work of art.

A Gate Left Open

I was 18 when I first ran away from home.

It was during summer so I had no school and it started because of a rather silly issue. My family were in the living room, and my father was making a mock phone call to a cousin who I was close with. My father was calling my cousin names because my cousin was rumored to be gay, and of course that set me off. But it wasn't about my father's bigotry which irked me, and in those days I wasn't "out" with anyone anyway, even with myself. I got mad simply because he was making fun of one of my friends. That started a row. And at that time, my father and I weren't on the best of terms. Shouting arguments with him were not uncommon in my teenage years. He used to hurt me physically too but that night I remembered it wasn't one such.

As we were exchanging choice words, my father deflected the issue to more serious ones, telling me I was only mad at him like that because he couldn't give me the things I needed for school. He couldn't buy me a computer. He couldn't buy me books. He couldn't give me enough baon in the first place. And that surprised me, because even if what he said was true, I never took those things against him. I never resented him for those lacks, not even once in my thoughts. Besides, that wasn't the issue at hand. But he stayed adamant about his own beliefs of why I was mad at him. He went on with ruing the day he allowed me to go to UP because it allowed me to be rebellious, as he once feared. He said I shouldn't fight back. He did not want anyone questioning his authority. I retorted that if that was the case then he did not want a son but a slave. All this time my mother was just sitting there quietly. She never interfered when we were fighting. As our shouting drew to an end, my father gave me an ultimatum - if I don't like how he's running our household then I should leave the house.

And so the next morning, I did.

I slept in the living room that night. I sneaked out of my bedroom, bringing my pillows and blankets and some clothes and I hunkered down on the sofa for the night. I woke up early, and when I passed through our gate, I left it wide open to spell it out for them that I was gone.

Thankfully, I had some money with me at the time, enough for me to commute to one of my aunts who lived nearby. And when I reached her house, I told her simply that my father and I had a fight and I asked her if I could stay there for the night. She just looked at me and nodded, and thankfully she did not ask too many questions. I played with my younger cousins there all day and though there was a tightness in my throat, I somehow forgot my troubles.

The next day they went shopping, and they let me tag along. They were quite on the richer side of the family since my uncle was a seaman, and so I had a grand time pretending for a day that I was okay and that I wasn't starving like we were back home. My two cousins were tugging at my arms, leading me this way or that, trying to play with me at the mall and for a while I felt like they were my own family. And I wished they were.

I told my aunt that for that night, I will be staying at my other aunt's house because one of my favorite cousins was staying there for the night too. So we parted on the road and she gave me some money and as she looked at me to say goodbye she might have seen something in my face because she pulled me closer and said "Halika nga dito" as if she was about to give me a hug but then I was standing too stiffly and I hardly moved so the hug never materialized. To this day, I feel sorry that hug did not happen. Back then, I still wasn't used to receiving hugs and I still didn't know how to react to them.

My second aunt was a bit stricter and she had a little scolding prepared for me when I got there. It wasn't very bad though because it was clear she only meant well for me. I forgot the rest of what she said except for these words: "Kung may lungkot, may ligaya."

On hindsight, it wasn't really very helpful advice. It wasn't really special or insightful or anything, but I suppose it was just the way she said them which made those words very meaningful for me. She's arguably my favorite aunt, and that's something because most of my aunts are really great people. She was the one who kept marvelling at me and believed in me, and she's special because we lived in the same house where I grew up and so she was there with me since the beginning. "Bakit ang galing-galing mo Bryan?" she used to tell me, even when she was in the hospital, dying from cancer. And even while she was sent home after her chemotherapy to spend more time with her family, she kept on asking me what I wanted for my birthday. I told her not to busy herself with it but then she insisted because she said "Last na naman 'to" and of course I had to turn my back on her that time because I was already crying so bad. She died two days before my birthday.

Anyway, back to the main story, the next day, I decided to sleep at yet another aunt's house, this one farther, up in Kalookan City. And so I said my goodbyes to my cousins and took the long commute north. It was on one of the jeepney rides in this part of my journey when my resolve began to weaken. I was confused why that was so, since I was welcomed okay by all my relatives. I was fed and I had good company. And I had enough money to take me to my next stop. But that lump in my throat grew bigger and bigger and it was all that I could do to keep myself from crying right there in the jeepney. This particular moment remains vivid in my mind after all these years.

When I reached my third aunt's house, my mother had already gotten abreast of my whereabouts. It seemed that she had been calling my relatives, and my two aunts have told her where I had been and where I was going next. To my surprise, my third aunt wasn't a bit mad about making my mother worry so. It seemed that my aunts already know about these things and they think running away from home is no different from visiting on Sundays. Incidentally, the cousin I had defended from my father lived there. Though of course, I did not tell my cousin the details of why I ran away in the first place.

I could have stayed there longer but the next day was my mother's birthday, and truth be told I was already missing her badly. So it was then that I decided to go back home. My third aunt gave me some more extra money to see me safely back home, and since I almost never spent all the money my aunts gave me except for my transportation fares, I was able to buy my Mom a cup of Cornetto ice cream and a siopao from 7-11. I knew it wasn't much but that was all I could afford.

I suppose my third aunt rang up my Mom to tell her I was going back home so that probably lessened much of the awkwardness if I were to suddenly turn up back in the gate out of nowhere. It was my Mom who opened the gate for me when I knocked, and I was aghast at seeing black circles under her eyes. It was so surreal because they were so thick it seemed like she wore thick eyeliner. I quickly gave her my gifts, greeted her, and immediately went up to my room. The house was silent for the next few days, except for my brother's occasional outbursts of craziness. And from then on, my father had been more careful with his words when I was around.

My father slammed down his fist. He had been cruel and unfair. So I revolted. And when I came back after three days, I showed him who really won that fight. But of course, I couldn't bask in this glory for too long because after all, he was still my father. And worse, I'm afraid that what I did back then broke him up for good. To this day, he seemed a broken image of who he used to be. Now he's the one doing my bidding.

Our family was never the same since I first ran away from home. Worse in some areas, better in others. Truth is, reader, I wrote about this because I've been thinking of running away a second time. But this time, not because of domestic arguments. But because, I just want to escape from them all...

Run away from my family.

Run away from work.

Run away from my friends.

I want to go on this journey of sorts. And it's silly because that's how it is in books and movies. And it's sillier because I feel the same. I have this urge within me to drop everything and go out there. To try my luck. To do all sorts of things away from my comfort zone. To learn to really survive.

And you know, to live.

To really live.