TINAYINBOTHPOLES 2.0

Dear jejemon neighbor,

Today marks the 4th day of your jeje-music marathon. Please pahinayi imong music kay maski 3 doors away ta, madunggan sa tibuok DBP compound imong pagkajejemon. Sakit kaayo sa dalunggan ug it makes the sucky weather even worse. Please try to tone it down. Thank you.

Sincerely,

Your sleepless single mom neighbor

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#1310

Sumasakit dibdib ko sa tuwing naaalala ko yung mga sinasabi ng mga tao na sayang daw ang pinag-aralan ko dahil ayokong magnurse.

I spent the past six years of my life trying to belong in a world that did not want anything to do with me at all. Alam mo yung pinipilit mo namang maging perfect para sa sarili mo at sa kanilang lahat pero alam mong mali pa rin. Off pa rin. Hindi ka nila gusto. Hindi mo rin naman gusto ginagawa mo. Oo, magaling ka nga, pero hindi ka naman masaya.

Feeling ko nga kaya nagkagulo-gulo buhay ko dahil pinilit nila ako eh. Antapang ko, ang maldita ko, pero yung gusto ko hindi ko man lang nagawang ipaglaban.

If I had to do it all again, I wouldn’t have chosen to be a nurse. I have always wanted to be surrounded by literature, film and style - kahit business gusto kong subukin. Pero syempre dise-sais lang ako noon. Walang plano sa buhay. In love. Wala lang. Ayun, dun ako napunta.

Right after graduation, kinonsulta ko kay Inay yung mga plano ko sa buhay. Sinagot niya saken? “Huwag kang magdecide. Si Ate mo dapat ang magdesisyon para sa’yo.”

Pero kahit minsan, di ako kinontrol ng ate ko. Lagi niya akong tinatanong kung ano gusto ko. Pero dahil mahal ko pamilya ko, sinunod ko gusto nila.

Wala akong sinisisi. Pero hindi ko maiwasang mag-isip kung ano na kaya ang nangyari kung pinaglaban ko gusto ko.

Tingnan nyo na lang kung anong nangyari saken ngayon.

Huwag nyo akong husgahan, masaya ako, oo. Pero andaming tumatakbo sa isip ko ngayon.

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Ayun. Nabibwisit ako sa tuwing nakikita ko yung mga kasabayan ko. Masaya sa mga trabaho nila. Ako, bitter. Report spam.

Masaya ako para sa kanila. Pero nakakabwisit lang.

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Pampalubag loob na lang yung labinlimang araw nilang kinikita, dalawang puyatan ko lang.

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#1301

Hindi ko maiwasang manghinayang at mainggit sa mga kaibigan/kakilala kong nagtatrabaho na bilang nars. Oo nga, I passed all the necessary tests just to become a nurse pero how can I love something that has not even tried to love me back? I don’t see myself being a nurse at all. Hindi ako bagay. Hindi ako marunong mag-empathize. Hindi ako therapeutic. Madalas, hirap din akong makipagplastikan. At ayokong makapatay ng tao dahil sa katangahan ko. Matalino din naman ako pero…

Pero nakakainggit sila. At least may pinatunguhan yung pinag-aralan nila.

Ako, nagkukumahog maging negosyante at manunulat. Okay lang.

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#1300

Trust vs Mistrust

Autonomy vs Shame and Doubt

Initiative vs Guilt

Industry vs Inferiority

Identity vs Role Confusion

Intimacy vs Isolation

Generativity vs Stagnation

Integrity vs Despair

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Lahat yan. Lahat yan.

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(via mariusdideles)

Last December 2011, an article I wrote for Men’s Health Philippines got published for that month’s issue. For those who weren’t able to grab a copy of Men’s Health Philippines December, here’s what was written.

BUT THIS ONE IS THE ORIGINAL ARTICLE WHICH I WROTE….

WITH NO HOLDS BAR.

My First Tattoo

I’m the black sheep of the family simply because everyone else is wearing white.

Coming from a family of doctors, I was far from being one. I was a mess. As I was kicked out of Engineering, dropped out of Marketing Management, and rejected by Fine Arts. Even genies can only tolerate 3 wishes. I’ve got my shots. And so, being lost to my self made chaotic reality. I had one direction; nowhere. It only took a phone ring to shake my misdirection.

The call rang all the way from the South. Father’s words still reverberate ‘til today as he said, “Pack up.”

I knew I was fucked up, and so the last wave of my rebellion can only lead to one thing: MY FIRST TATTOO.

RECTO.

It became my school as I would rather attend my classes on the side skirts of its streets. Sidewalk vendors became my canteen, alleyways became the corridors, where blings, pirated cds and segunda mano books were sold. Witnessing a snatch scene served the lesson.

The professor? Practicality.

Off I went to a 2x2-metered “tattoo shop” using wooden ply board as a divider, a copy of MY design on hand. Old tattoo photos surrounded as what would seem a cubicle. An old ceiling fan served as its only ventilation.

Having asked for the rate of my design the previous day, the tattooist said it would cost me 500 pesos. And so I came this day with a crumpled 500 peso bill to pursue my tattoo application. Unfortunately, the tattooist with whom I talked to wasn’t around. I ended up haggling with another tattooist who obliged me to pay twice the agreed price.

500 was all the money I had plus the 6 peso coins which should be enough for my fare after. He agreed.

THE APPLICATION

As a proof to how Pinoys can be so resourceful, the artist bought sewing needles and popped out bottles of black and red ink. He proceeded to make the stencil and applied it to my left inner forearm.

Nothing could’ve prepared me for the pain. It felt a little bit more than an ant bite. Constant thoughts of nerve wrecking screams of agony. The funny thing about the experience, I was already thinking about what tattoo to get next.

Ideas of becoming a tattoo artist myself was far from my imaginations during that time. All I thought about was how cool it would be to work at your own time, dress the way you want and do what you just want to do. I didn’t have a dream job, just a dream way of living. I had the place in mind but I just didn’t know how to get there.

It takes more than just interest in learning the art of tattooing. It is the combination of creativity and technique, a beautiful marriage of art and science. Patience is just one of the many virtues that are valuable to the craft, aside from perseverance, good work ethics, insatiable urge for creativity and never ending curiosity. Doing tattoos is always dealing with variables.

With research, motivation and inspiration, I indulged myself to the world of tattoos. Ancient history tells of stories passed through generations by way of tattooing. Every culture had its own way, its own reasons of the relevance of tattooing. Modern society and its standards of conforming took out the heart of why tattooing is as important as any traditions. I learned that tattooing has always been a part of the history of man, even going back to as early as the time of the cavemen. It would be then, safe to assume, that tattooing will continue to exist along with religion, Coca Cola and Rock and Roll.

As time passed along, so did the number of the tattoos in my body. The thought of pursuing it as a profession was presented by no other than my old man. While I was at the point of looking for a direction in my life, my girlfriend then pointed out that the only thing that would fit my life plan was to be a tattoo artist. Instantly, I knew she was my Jesus, telling me that God created me to do tattoos.

My tattoos became more than just my way of self expression; it blossomed into my mortal jewelries. The amount of pain, blood, and skin are the equivalent exchange for something that literally lasts a lifetime. For me, getting a tattoo is standing up to a permanent conviction. Saying that, it’s more than necessary that you do think about what you’re getting before having it done.

It’s disheartening that a lot of young people get tattoos and nurse regrets after sometime. Most of time, boys and girls get boyfriend and girlfriend names when rarely keep the love alive. There are also cases when drunken guys suddenly decide to get a tattoo that has no particular meaning just because it’s a spur of the moment thing. Patronizing impulse is forecasting disappointment. You can take my word on that. Peer pressure never work out well.

Ancient Filipinos sported tattoos to show pride and social status. Tattooing was a ritual, a rite of passage for accomplishing a certain endeavor. For our ancestors, having tattoos was honorable, a display of dignity on their skin.

If you’re thinking of your first tattoo, consider the fact that you’ll be having it for the rest of your life. Get something that means a lot to you, something that you won’t regret when your skin get saggy and old. When you do decide to have it done, talk to the guy who you think can do it correctly. Never base your decision on the price tag. Check the portfolio and working area, talk to the tattooist. Applying the tattoo also requires communication for the creative process. It’s your idea interpreted as a tattoo by the artist.

My first tattoo could’ve been the biggest mistake of my life, but as how ironic things can turn out, I’m still alive and in my tattoos, continuing an ancient art through contemporary times and tomorrows.

GET SKINKY.

SIDEBAR

1. Never get a tattoo because Simon and the whole gang said so.

2. Don’t be drunk or high when getting a tattoo.

3. Girlfriend and/or boyfriend names doesn’t really work out. 90% of the time.

4. Good tattoos aren’t cheap, cheap tattoos aren’t good. WURD.

5. Replicating someone else’s tattoos won’t be such a good idea.

Oh hello July.

And I’m running out of cash. That’s the price of getting sick and missing work for the past two weeks. Now that I’m back in shape, I’ve been working nonstop and guess what: work has been too slow lately. Ugh.

I don’t know if I’m pushing through my Davao-Manila trip next month.

Money. All I think of is money.

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Napakahirap kumita ng pera.

Magtatatlong buwan na akong rumaraket pero wala pa akong nabibili para sa sarili ko.

Sahod ko kada linggo, ubos agad. Pang-kain, pang-inom, pambili ng gamot, pautang sa kapamilyang nangangailangan.

Ni Philhealth at SSS ko, kailangan ko pang iasa sa nanay ko.

Nakakahiya ako.

Punyeta, nasestress ako. Makainom nga ng vitamins.

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