(Published on the Youngblood section of the December 31, 2009 issue of the Philippine Daily Inquirer)
MANILA, Philippines—A riot—what else could it be? The year 2009 was such a terrible year that I cannot find a better word to describe it.
For me, the year started with a terrible break-up. Not that I wasn’t aware it was going to happen sooner or later, but a break-up is never easy any which way you view it, and although I had already seen my two-year old relationship’s demise, I wasn’t prepared for how nasty it got. Also going down the drain with the relationship were some friendships, both good and bad. Some I sorrowfully regret losing, some I couldn’t care about.
My career wasn’t going anywhere either. It was a like a buzz, a long, disturbing hum that did not want to develop into a beautiful and promising tune like I thought it was going to be. The work place had become a hell hole from which I couldn’t easily get out of, especially with money involved. I had been living independently for over a year, and giving up a job just because I hated it meant giving up my independence, something I found hard to give up. Being in my early twenties and having been sheltered for the most part of my life, living the Makati city lifestyle was something I worked hard for and something I wouldn’t surrender now that I had come to relish it.
Looking at both sides of the coin, it was a first-quarter storm I patiently and thankfully withstood despite the nightly migraines, the ugly rumors, the bitter emotions and the hard facts. It was a nightmare, and what made it worse was that everything that was happening to me was real.
Eventually, the world caught on with my despair—in a far more dramatic fashion, as you would expect from Hollywood. Celebrity deaths became seemingly a fad, and quick to follow in its footsteps were swarms of paparazzi making sure the deaths were entangled in webs of truths and lies. Topping the list would be the early and unexpected death of the world’s No. 1 pop icon, Michael Jackson. » Read the rest of this entry «
(Published on the Youngblood section of the July 9, 2009 issue of the Philippine Daily Inquirer)
“The man I failed to help.” That was how Lisa Marie Presley described her ex-husband Michael Jackson in a recent blog post on his shocking death.
Among the millions of stories that made the rounds in the Web recalling moments shared with the King of Pop while he was still alive, it was this particular entry written by Presley that moved me to tears. Not simply because I was awed by it, but more so because her words touched my heart in an intimate manner. And her pain seemed somehow very familiar.
Presley, in her Myspace blog entry entitled “He Knew,” described how hard it was for her to make the decision to give up on MJ back then. Instead of continuing to reach out and help him overcome certain issues, Presley chose to live her own life separately, not only for her own good but also for the good of their children. She worked hard to remain indifferent towards MJ since the time they parted ways, but with his recent passing, all the pain came back to her again as she grieved for her ex-husband. His death served as a stark reminder of how, once in her life, she had failed to help a great man.
It wasn’t so long ago when I myself gave up on a brilliant yet self-destructive man. He may not be as big as MJ, but back then he meant the world to me, and my life exclusively revolved around him. He was my version of the man I failed to help. And although it has been some time since we parted ways, reading Presley’s memory of MJ brought him back to my thoughts once again.
» Read the rest of this entry «
(Published on the Youngblood section on Page A13 of the August 17, 2006 issue of the Philippine Daily Inquirer)
I GRADUATED cum laude from the country’s premier university. I was a consistent scholar throughout my four years of study, and my undergraduate thesis even received recognition from my college.
But all these seem to matter little now. Months after graduation, I am still a “fresh graduate,” with no work and no paycheck to proudly present to my parents.
What did I do wrong? Nothing really, except that I took a course in humanities.
I can still remember my first year in college when my parents kept suggesting that I shift to courses that were “more in demand,” such as Nursing and Engineering. Other relatives repeatedly asked what course I was taking and gave me a puzzled look every time they heard my reply.
“Com … ano?” they would demand to know.
“Comparative Literature, po,” I would say patiently.
And they would ask, “Ano ‘yun?”
It was easy to explain to them what my course was. The bigger challenge was explaining why I took it in the first place. My answer varied from “I love to read” to “I love to write” and “I have a passion for literature.”
But in our materialistic world, where money makes the world go ’round, “passion” is definitely not a word that inspires confidence. More definitely, passion for the arts is regarded as more of a hobby than a career or a means of living.
I don’t regret taking my course. In fact, I got what I wanted and I am very thankful that my parents supported me all the way, despite their initial reservations. I have been more than lucky not to be forced to take a course I did not really want. However, there are days when I can’t stop myself from getting envious of my college friends, most of whom finished business or information technology courses. We had not even marched, and they were already getting offers, some of which were hard to turn down. While I was basking in the summer sun, they were already immersed in training and seminars, earning between P25,000 and P40,000 a month, whopping sums for people who have just joined the workforce.
No, I don’t expect to see the same large numbers written on my first paycheck. I just want the opportunity to put into practical uses the knowledge I’ve gained and the lessons I’ve worked hard to learn during four years of college. I want to share what I’ve learned, and more importantly, I want to be able to continue learning through the experiences I will have in a good working environment.
I do not want to be a bum for long. To put it simply: I want a job! I want to share my passion and prove to everyone what what I can do. I know that time will come, but I hope it will be soon.
Sinang, 21, graduated last April. She is waiting for calls from companies that are willing to take her on.