a short letter to a little sister

I reckon that we haven't really talked for a long time. By talk, I meant having those conversations about little things – your assignments in school, side comments on shows we watch on TV, the jokes we caught up with in texts from silly pals, our ambitions and plans for ourselves (though it might have not appeared that I was trying to address this more to you). I may not look like it, but I miss those exchanges.

I suppose many things have changed since a few years ago. I became too rigid, unforgiving and I shut you off too easily.

Everybody makes mistakes. That is one painful fact that we have to live with. Some of my friends committed the same mistake that you did but I felt them. To counsel had been so easy then. In your case, I didn't get it. I put all the blame on you. You had been so reckless, headstrong and plain pointless. You were not content in just inflicting wound - you even rubbed salt on it.

You may have not realized but I was as shaterred as you were. I lost not only my tall dreams for you. I lost all hopes that one day you'd gather your acts together and take that one step forward without taking two steps backward. I started to doubt every word that you say and your actions became a constant disheartening stroke.

Over time, my sanctimony sank you down further. The distance between us became too wide it had been hard for you to reach me. I even waited for another catastrophe before I tried to drift into squaring off. That should be the greatest lesson to us both. But maybe now, it's more directed to me.

I have long forgiven you. More than I care to show, I'm slowly re-building my hopes for you. I hope you do not waste this one last chance. Get up and start walking again.

Do not do this for me neither for your own sake. Do this for your son. From now on, do not lose sight that you no longer live just for your own impulses. You are responsible for the life you brought to this earth.

I will try to bend a little further. I'll pull the belt tighter to make both ends meet. I promise I won't be expecting much just as I did before. Now, I only ask that you do what's right.

I apologize for the times that I kept my distance. I know now you suffered more than I cared to understand. This time, I will try to be more present and within reach. I will try to be a better kuya.

I know saying these things to you personally is very unlikely. We are not used to these melodramas. But I hope we can pick up where we left off. How about talk to me about school?

By the way, those adjusting entries that you didn't quite understand, I will still have to re-read them. It's been long since I prepared one of those. I should already be doing so but I'm driven into writing this. I don't know but somehow, I feel a little lighter.

i write like... cory doctorow?

There's this one website which 'analyzes' your writing style and compares it with some of the known writers. At a friend's suggestion, I tried it.

I pasted some entries of my blog and got varied responses: from American horror and fantasy writer H.P. Lovecraft to Irish author James Joyce (whose writings can give you a headache. Some claimed they had blood oozing from their noses while reading Ulysses. I did not attempt.) One blog entry was hooked-up to Dan Brown. (Of course you know Dan Brown!) I read only two of his works so far – Angels and Demons and his major break, The Da Vinci Code which I read a few years ago.

But one name keeps coming out: Cory Doctorow. I got this badge on four of my blogs:

I write like
Cory Doctorow

I Write Like by Mémoires, Mac journal software. Analyze your writing!

I am unfamiliar so I searched him in Wikipedia.

Cory Doctorow is a Canadian blogger and journalist/ activist and author of science fiction. He maintains two sites boingboing.net and craphound.com, both heavy on tech and digital stuff. A college dropout (he went to four universities but did not earn a degree), he is an author of several novels and short stories and has been lauded in some of his works including two John W. Campbell's (sponsored by Dell Magazines for science fiction and fantasy writing) and two Sunburst Awards (annual Canadian awards for 'speculative'(?) fiction writing).

He believes in more liberal copyright laws to allow free sharing of digital media which must be his most likable advocacy on a personal note.

He quips: “If I am going to be a writer, earning a living in the era of digital text, I need to understand where the opportunities are. They won't disappear, they'll just be different, and need to be recognised. In the last days of Vaudeville Theatre, they sued Marconi because radio was killing Vaudeville, where you had to pay to go into a relatively small room to listen to music and voice. But it didn't kill music, the outcome was a thousand times more music, making a thousand times more money, reaching a thousand times more people. But in the short term, there was panic. If digital text will result in hundreds more authors, with hundreds more novels, I need to be in the middle of eBooks. I need to be heavily engaged. All those people downloading my text is good news.”

I am far from writing-to-earn-a-living but think I just found a hero.

(Blogger friends, try this out. Your discoveries can be a great fun! Here's a link.)

things i need to know i learned from kuya ferdie's word challenge

One: You need to 'start' before anything can happen.

Two: You can play 'solo' and still have fun but life gets more exciting when there are multiple players ('multiplayer'). (No puns intended here).

Three: When you cannot see into your present view, 'rotate' and shift your focus.

Four: Don't let the 'claps' intimidate you. They're only distractions. In this life, there will never be a dearth of these.

Five: Some players will annoy you. Just keep your cool and concentrate on the game. Patience will always be a good virtue.

Six: Don't feel small when you cannot find words. Ponder on item #3. Maybe, this is not your thing. How about mastering soduku? Blogging can be fun too.

Seven: Sometimes, when you are not certain about some words, gamble. Good 'points' may come out of it. A former co-worker puts it aptly: the reckless may not live long but the cautious may not live at all.

Eight: Keep on the game even if the 'tiles' that come out are a bit odd. Great things can come out from nothing. Look at that guy Edison. It's never a waste of time making sense out of a garble. Later you'll realize that it will make you an expert at squinting those eyes which you may find useful in the next 'rounds'.

Nine: Winning while checking on a dictionary is less honorable. In any game, cheating is one bad cheetah. At any instance, avoid it. When you've been lured once, don't make it double. That's already bad-assery.

Ten: After a 'round', check on those words that come out that you don't know. It pays to learn something new each time. In the future, when in want of words, they can come out handy.

Eleven: Don't be devastated if you lose. In every game, somebody wins. It may be you in the next round.

Twelve: Don't pound that chest after winning a 'round'. I read somewhere that only insecure people brag about their little accomplishments. Surely, you are not one. And I may add, it feels better to think of your accomplishments, no matter how grand they are as little. There's some goodwill in this.

Thirteen: More than the winning, it is the learning that matters.

Lastly: More than the learning should be the relationships.

Here's another last. I've been nudging Kuya Ferdie to register the stuff and sell it. I'd be happy to help in marketing (with the commission, of course). He declined smilingly. Now, I am not that magnanimous.

('Word Challenge' is a game which is essentially like boggle, only digitized and customized with options like having multiple players via network connection (bluetooth is very handy here). The view shifts at set intervals but you can click on the 'rotate' button if you want another view. Minimum number of letters can also be set (we play at a minimum of 5, that's before you add the 's' but my sister insists on the additional points for finding the longest word). For words with at least 7 letters, you'll hear a very encouraging clap. After every round, you can search for words that the computer finds based on its embedded dictionary so prepare to be dismayed as there can be a lot too many. Recently, I played the GameHouse version of it but I'd say that Word Challenge is a lot better. Looks like the perfect lazy Sunday diversion to me. Want to install one on your PC now? Just give me your USB. We'll talk about the charge later.)

decamping

The Inquirer this morning revealed the newest breed of our country's labor exports – PAG-ASA's weather forecasters. The latest is one of the agency's directors and seasoned forecasters no less, Nathaniel Cruz who got on a plane off to Australia.
(The recent typhoon Basyang claimed more than 50 lives. This was attributed to some forecasting lapses.)

A few weeks ago, I learned that a batchmate who hinted that she'll probably be the last in our class to leave this country for a work abroad has flown to Singapore, leaving her job at a giant oil company.

Both have joined the ranks of many professionals who have decided to leave native land for greener pastures. And the number just keeps on picking. I myself have always been lured.

Like most of those I know who left, I hold a 'decent' job. I work for a respected company and many would beg godfathers to get into my place. Don't get the idea that I'm a prized possession – being an analyst is an 'ordinary' job which can be easily filled in by anybody. But it is 'already' a job, if you get what I mean. So why join the bandwagon?

On a personal note, I suppose that more than the 'compensation' issue (that's a given. And don't even begin that it's-all-about-contentment-money-is-not-the-most-important-thing litany), it is about expanding your playing field. Going abroad could be about new pitches to strike and out there is a bigger triangle to catch pitched balls.

Face it: many leave because of the wobbly situation here which is often perceived as hopeless. Sad but true and I agree that the issue should not end here. I consent to taking part in national re-building (the ways of which one can easily put in a high school essay) but I disagree to the line of thinking that going abroad is unpatriotic. Seeking for greener pastures abroad is not entirely doing a great disservice to this country. Take a good look at the 12% GDP contribution of OFW remittances. Yes, the standing issue of brain drain but I cannot put the blame to those who have chosen a more practical approach to everyday domestic concerns.

Well, ok. Compensation. I guess there's nothing wrong about seeking better returns for time and effort. Even businessmen invest where they'll get higher returns out of their investments.

There, I sounded like I had just packed my bags. This is actually like putting the shoes on. Who knows, after putting the shoes on, I might catch the next flight out.

yielding

Sometimes you are torn between doing something that you wanted to do but still must not. After careful weighing of the pro’s and con’s, you still feel that you had been putting this off for what seemed like an eternity already. Then it builds up to the sort that gives you an itch somewhere and ties a knot in your stomach.

So what do you do?

I simply gave in. I closed all logic for this one delusion of grandeur. And man, it tasted like no other things of sweetness. And finally, I screamed to being the king of the world!

Then you realize that in acquiescence, doors are opened to a myriad of things and the white canvass is now splayed with crimson invectives. Bolts are unlocked to Pandora’s box but unlike it, it’s not only about the devils of the world – in a snap, you’ll see what’s it like when the gates of heavens open. When you finally hit it, the thunders did not roar but instead, I heard the harpists playing.

Now, there’s no stopping to my capacity to create. I believe the ability is instinctive in every man: the prowess is just a matter of potency and stamina. A little wit and creativity maybe, but that’s not entirely required. As far as I am concerned, I will do it when I want to, where I want to. I can’t give a damn if there should be styles.

I gave in and finally (as in finally), I got my own notebook PC and I can do blogging at my own time. Now, it’s not what you’re thinking.

blogs in the bin

I’m a prolific writer. Fact is, I write from the most consequential (like that epiphany from my neighbor’s frequent midnight quarrels) to the most trivial of things (like say, the Aquino inaugural). But since I’m a fastidious publisher as well, most of my works barely made it to proofreading.

Here are samples:

That ode to Wowowee. Just the mere recall makes me cringe. One time, I watched this sappy episode (by the way, most of them are) of one of the show's game segments featuring father and son tandems which immediately crept to my mawkish alter ego and found me pounding on the keyboard shortly after. But after realizing how pathetic the scenario seemed that many Filipinos consign their fate in long queues just for the chance of bringing home a few bucks, it is hardly about an encouraging melodrama. Not to mention that the main host’s piquant and supercilious banters can sometimes get so despicable.

A recollection on moving houses seven times in ten years. On it, I relived the pangs of leaving and the anticipation of moving along with the peculiarity of every new discovery in each new place. Like those winding roads which lead to some of those places, the analogy of my writing wound up in mid-air. I never got past house No. 3.
 
Those musings from our afternoon debates in the office. I suppose, we have already tackled the entire range of debatable issues (finance, politics, population, education, sex, blah, blah) reason why the points have turned to be just a blur. (But really, I was afraid news might get through our HR and I be reprimanded for spilling. I’m too neat for that.)

Some of the pages were mere titles or first paragraphs.

In all these, there’s one thing that I realized: writing is just like, er, love – if it’s not into you, it’s not into you. No matter how you try to gloss over those little phrases you have just coined, if the elements are not there, it just becomes nonsensical drooling. So if you don’t have it, don’t push it. You might just find yourself hitting ‘delete’ more often or worse, find your work in the bin.

PS. Don’t be swooned by that first paragraph. That’s another silly talk. :-)  

lenienza, 5pm

At last, the remaining strokes of the painting works were done. Even with the interruption of the scaffoldings, I can already see its grandeur – the product of some years of stashing salaries, bonuses and mortgage loans. Finally, seven years of renting will come to a close.

Outside, I look at all four sides to see if everything’s put in place.

The glass on the east side walls will be a huge savings on the power bill. With the sun freely coming in, there won’t be a need to turn any lights on during the day. And, isn’t it quixotic to see the rain drip on them come rainy days?

Good that I insisted on stainless for the railings on the terrace above the car porch. Wrought irons couldn’t have been this chic. I imagine the Friday beer sessions on that terrace. But the singing should not be so loud to agitate the neighbor (I heard he has short temper).

The architect made a great job inside. The study was in hues of black and white with huge shelves pushed to the side.The same motif for the kitchen, the rooms and the bath. Solid colors; they’re not so loud. I’m thinking of giving the architect a bonus.

On the southwest corner of the lot, I’ll start growing trees: rambutan, lanzones, durian. I’ll build a payag there too where the family can stay for siesta.

‘Come on,’ my brother-in-law calls out, ‘rain’s coming!’

Suddenly, the house was gone and all that lays there is a grass-teemed piece of lot. Next time, I’ll be bringing a scythe.