PHANTASM

Ghosts. Spirits who, in their former life, have failed in their pursuit. They are doomed to roam the earth searching for the peace they could never find.

We sat there in a distorted circle, our faces glowed by the dancing flames we had infront of each of us. It was well after midnight, but we continued on. Each of us listening intently, leaned forward, as we took turns revealing our dreams and how we had finally achieved them at that point in time. It was our graduation retreat.

"Thank you for bearing with me and carrying me with you. Thanks to all of you, I'm with you here tonight."

It went on for hours and we still did not get tired of hearing it. Their own personal tales of friendship and victory; how they made each other strong and they had finally, against all odds, ended their journey in this moment of bliss.

Forty eight of us. Some proud to have finshed exceptionally and some glad to have barely even passed.

There I sat, with candle in hand. Everyone shifted to hear me speak. I had been their president for four years and graduated with honors. And for some reason, they had decided to let me speak last because they figured that it would be some sort of climax after which the session would adjourn and we would all go off to end the night in revelry.

"I'm actually really glad to hear that you have all achieved your goals after four years. There is no other group more deserving of success, at least in my eyes. Congratulations."

I fought desperately to keep my voice from cracking.

"I look at you now and see nothing but pure joy in your eyes. As for me, I had one goal, to make my dad proud. I tried and failed miserably to reach that. I'm sorry for feeling so deeply envious of you guys."

The hall was in silence when I left.

In my room, the pen found my journal:

The Hopeless Struggle

The light you’ve shown has left me blind
Yet I keep chasing your shadow
And still I’m always left behind
The pain in me you’ll never know

Your legacy from yesteryears
I followed without any fears
But sacred dreams that I hold dear
Your heart’s desire was never near

All things I do, I offer you
I lay them down at your two feet
Your lifeless eyes didn’t have a clue
Why with my efforts they should meet

I ask the clouds and great blue sky
To share the reason why do I
Still fight to mold my future’s clay
To take the road of your past’s way

My heart has but a plain desire
Please cast these pains unto the fire
To see me lovingly, not sore
And hear you’re proud of me once more

I want you to see me clearly
Feel you kiss me again dearly
To understand ultimately
The secrets of your mystery

Through awareness that you’ve opened
I dangle my life on the line
And if your touch never softened
Eternal peace will not be mine

Hikahos

O, ako’y nasilaw mo
Pilit kong hinahabol
Habol ang anino mo
Pasang dusa’y masahol

Kahapon mong nilingap
Ay bulag kong niyakap
Ngunit aking pangarap
‘Di mo binigyang-sulyap

Tagumpay ko’y inalay
Sa paa mo’y nilagay
Mga mata mong patay
Mistulang sumasablay

Tanong sa alapaap
Bakit ko hinahanap
Aking kinabukasan
Sa iyong nakaraan

Mumunti lang ang nais
Ibsan mo ang hinagpis
Tingnan mo ng may hilig
Ang tuwa mo’y marinig

Nais kong masilayan
Muli mong mahalikan
Maunawaang tunay
Misteryo ng ‘yong kamay

Sa iyong binuksang malay
Ang diwa ko’y isinampay
Haplos mo man ay matamlay
Aasa kong walang humpay

MEDICINE, SHOWBIZ AND THE CIRCUS

See, it gets you to look at all the attractions and keeps you entertained that you end up not looking at where you're going. You don't need to be a kid or to be senile to get lost in the circus.

"Perversions of a Doctor" is what they have named it. And most would agree, rightly so. The world points their fingers at one man. But no one seems to see that it never was a one-man show.

Of course he is wrong and of course he's perverted. But then again, we all are in one form or another. The only difference being that we don't choose to keep copies of what we do in bed. It's sex for crying out loud! We all juggle like acrobats and bend like pretzels. If you don't or refuse to even try, then by god you must never have had sex with someone more than once. I shouldn't even be convincing anyone that it only becomes a scandal when someone else finds out. And this, most definitely is.

MEDICINE

Four years of pre-med, then four years of med. A year of internship and then the board exam. And if you're still alive, you can go in to residecy training for 4-5 years more to become a consultant.

The medical profession is not for any other person. It's for the intelligent who can comprehend knowledge from a library far greater than that of any other field. It's for the determined; for those who can bear long years of sacrifice and dedication to a jealous lover that is medicine. It's for the emotionally sound; individuals who can hold in their bellies unimaginable amount of emotional abuse and somehow convince themselves to see such as constructive criticism. It's for the wealthy, for none could finish it without financial stability. And lastly, for the strong; those who have the resistance to be exposed to disease and be subjected to physical abuse and somehow miraculously still remain unaffected long enough to be able to reach the dream.

For the few who have all of these qualities, survive and become a doctor, the only other thing left to do is never to make an error. In this profession, to err but once is all it takes for all the years to become an MD to slip away like sand in your hands. It really isn't fair. But then again, who said that the world was?

Needlesss to say, such a monumental blunder such as this, could only end badly for any doctor. He doesn't need his liscence revoked. His practice was dead when this scandal started.

SHOWBIZ

What I can not comprehend is how that actress ever became a victim. Even before all this, you could google her name and find more than a thousand hits, half of which showing here nude. Her movies show her nude. The magazines show her nude. Calendars show her nude. You see her in clubs and bars half nude. Then this scandal comes out showing clips of her nude and dancing and all of a sudden she's a victim? What's new? Has everyone else gone blind and retarded?

It's amazing how people respond to a woman crying. She wasn't exactly screaming rape in the video when she asked if the camera could see clear what's behind her. I don't think I've ever seen her dance that well on TV either. But I guess she was never really recognized for her acting, cause in a magnificent display of talent, she cried on national TV and everyone bought it. Now roll out the red carpet and give her the trophy.

Kudos for a memorable performance but consenting to putting yourself in a compromising spot doesn't make you a victim, it makes you an idiot. If everyone else continues to eat this up, then they must be idiots as well.

THE CIRCUS

The senator spearheading the "protection of women's rights" by pursueing this case is nothing but a fraud. He is a hypocrit who has never lifted a finger to help other victims of scandalous videos before. The only reason he's doing what he's doing now is because this is a high profile case and he wants his name in the papers. It's really quite ironic to find this known womanizer at the forefront of this battle; a futile attempt to make the public forget that he is infact also a pervert with a sex drive which puts a rabbit with raging hormones to shame. Make no mistake, he is not a hero but an insect taking everything that he can get.

Every other political figure is jumping on the bandwagon to get their name on print. From the womanizing senator's plot to draw limelight to Mr. OMB chairman who, basing on hearsay, declared that an accomplice is actually a fraternity brother (which is a baseless and eroneous assumption), all strengthens the probability that their ulterior motive is campaigning for the next election.

The story plays out so predictably. The circus is eager to come to the rescue of the boldstar in distress to gain the favor of the people. The boldstar is in distress because of a career threat and nothing more. The doctor will lose his practice whether or not he loses his liscence. And, whether I like it or not, more and more people will be stunned and captivated with all the razzle dazzle and shananigans.

In the end we would have all borne witness to a story in which everything went wrong. But when the curtains fall, everyone would still get up from their seats to a standing ovation because the show went on and didn't fail to entertain.

FIGHT NIGHT

All battles have to be fought. But some wars are not won in the field.



"We can't do this without you. We're meeting at the frat house in 30 minutes. Be there."

That was all it said. I had just woken up but that text message was enough to wipe away all the sleep from my eyes. I stumbled as I struggled to my feet, lunging at my sneakers. Running out the door, I swiped the gray American Eagle hoodie, which I always thought had a "don't mess with me or you'll get hurt" look to it. I barely even got both arms in as I got to the car. In minutes, I was racing to the meeting place.

The sun had just gone down and the sky glowed a dying amber as I sped my way hoping I got there in time. On a red light, my fingers scrimmaged pockets finding my cell. Two messages.

"Where are you? We're all here."

"We hope you still got some fight left in you cause this'll be a long night."

I grinned as I floored the gas as the light turned green.

"I still have my hands haven't I? These are practically the only things that I really need."

I parked outside the frat house. 7pm. I didn't need to go down casue my boys flooded the door as soon as they saw me. Five of us. The best five that the frat could give.

"Go. They're already at the place."

It's been a long time. I was shaking but I wasn't scared at all. If anything, I was excited. I missed the thrill and chaos. I longed for the rush. And there was nobody else I'd rather have on my side than my boys.

Not even 30 minutes and it was all over. We had them on the run and we pressed harder pushing them to a full retreat.

"There's no use hiding in there!"

"Why don't you guys try running your mouth now!"

It was brutal. All of them were badly beaten. They scattered off in different directions but it wasn't really a secret where we'd find them cowering. I knew we were too much for them but we weren't going to let off just yet. We were going to teach them a lesson they'd never forget. In minutes, we were pounding on their gate and mocking them to stand their ground.

"Are you guys just going to watch and wait for us to get in there? Come out and fight!"

A few moments more we broke inside. It was ugly and barbaric. We took turns striking and swinging at whoever we saw came close to having the slightest incling that they could stop us. The dust settled and I was sure not even an ounce of their pride remained. We left them beaten and ashamed. This was a war that we seared in their memories as in ours.

"Boooyah! Who's your daddy now?"

Some of the guys just couldn't stop. Some were now on their feet dancing around, jumping up and down like a bunch of idiots while pointing fingers at the other team and talking smack.

Game night is always fun. Defense of the Ancients (DOTA) is truly a great game.

All ten of us went outside for a smoke or a nibble. All the while, the jeering continued as the guys exchanged shoulder jabs and monkeyed around. This was the calm before the storm.

A few minutes after, the monkeys were no longer dancing and were back in the "zone". Game 2 was about to start.

JESTER'S MASK

The jester didn't enjoy wearing the mask that kept him smiling all night. If anything, he hated it. But there was a show and to please the king he knew he needed it.

Three O'clock on the dot. The drizzle did little to cool the humid air. I bursted out of the car which was haphazardly parked by the bend. It'd probably make the narrow corner more difficult to tackle but I didn't care. My brown leathers didn't offer much comfort on the two block sprint. I dashed across the intersection, paying little attention to the water licking the edge of my slacks, blocking the in coming traffic with my clipboard to a halt. I wasn't going to be late.

"You've got to be kidding me!"

"I know, right? And I was even here by 1:30."

The line to the department's office on the 5th had made it to the stairs and stretched clear through the 4th floor hall. The place buzzed with all the people there, some needing papers to be signed and others needing a slot schedule for make-ups, myself included. It's been a month since I was here talking to the officer-in-charge regarding my concern.

"You're in luck sir. Someone backed out and a slot is free for 2 days."

"Great! I'll take it. No matter what day, sign me up."

Some people just seem to find meaning in their role to make life difficult to live. I'm sure just about everyone has met one or another. Apparently, encoutering THE MAN isn't as rare as the occasions you get to "stick it" to him.

"You can't give that slot to him. Someone just called and took that slot. I'm sorry doctor, all slots for this month and the next have been filled. The next opening would be 2 months from now and scheduling for those slots will be open on the 3rd week of next month."

"Is that so? Ok then, may I have the office number so that I can call you every now and then to check if someone backed out of their slot?

"Of course not sir, you have to come back here and line up for scheduling just like everyone else."

She posted a smug look and a sly grin as she observed the reaction I had after what she just said.

"You just said that someone called to take slots a while ago. You must have a happy proctologist cause right now, you're being a bit of an ass."

Was what I should've said. But instead, I have ok'ed into an unreasonably long wait and a potential danger to delaying the start of my medical internship. And so, there I was, during the 3rd week of May, standing yet again in an unbareably long line.

An hour later, I managed to inch my way up the 5th floor with some of the people in line giving up on the wait. Tuesday's and Friday's - 3:15pm to 4:00pm. It was unreasonable considering that we had to break away from wherever we were on duty, on office hours at that, to make it. But everyone in cue on that line had made that sacrifice to take care of their business.

The door moved and creaked open.

"Finally!"

The hall moaned with sighs of relief which resounded just that. THE MAN, peeped out.

"Oh my! What a long line!"

It sounded like she had practiced saying that a couple of times before she actually did. She was clad in her trademark hyena-grin too. It was well past 4pm.

"Well, our office still couldn't entertain you as of the moment and I just wanted to inform you that all those needing signatures couldn't be entertained today cause the dean isn't here. All those who came for slots for make-ups should know that we decided to move the scheduling last week and we have filled the slots for next month. You can come back on Friday to see if anyone has backed out of their slot."

One by one the people left, clearly dismayed. And they have every right to be. It was unprofessional and downright inconsiderate. But nothing could be done.

"You should be proud to be the biggest smart-ass around, cause that's the only smart you'll ever be you crazy witch! I have been through so many things and overcame so many trials to become a doctor, we all have. And you have got to be out of your mind to think that I am going to remain here watching idly as you make a mockery out of who we are and what we have dreamed for so long to be! Now, go in that office and get the dean on the phone cause I want to talk to him!"

Fantastic! Only, I said that in my mind as I was staring hopelessly at that demented hag. I was infuriated. Just about ready to explode. Yet, in the back of my mind a little voice was telling me to hold it and just keep it together. I listened to that whisper which second after second grew louder and louder. The familiar voice of reason. I knew that vexing THE MAN would lengthen the red tape by a mile and then I could've never gotten the job done.

"Friday it is. But the rainy season has arrived and you better not get sick - EVER."

I said to myself as the elevator doors headed ground floor closed shut.

MAN ON THE MOON

A stranger is a friend you've never met. And some friends, you don't even get to meet at all.

". . . so here's a toast! Champagne for my real friends, and real pain for my sham friends."

"I think I'll call you Speed Date Girl."

It was past midnight when I saw that she was online. No, I didn't meet her during speed dating and no we're not dating. The best friend of Becky, my college friend just happened to, all of a sudden, hit me through messenger after . . . come to think of it, she never sent me a message nor even talked to me before. Aside from the occasional nod, smile or "hi." (which is hardly even talking) as we passed each other in campus, I couldn't recall any other form of exchange we ever had.

I'm still suffering from post break-up insomnia and she's working the graveyard. What started as, "My friend's organizing a speed dating event on Saturday, would you like to come? Meeting new people might be good for you." was followed by nights of exchanging remarkable similarities of interest. Gaiman, Dishwalla, perpetually staying on line, poker, a fondness for alcohol and even food. And though speed dating's not exactly my thing, I was glad she was around, night after night, to keep my mind from caving-in due to depression.

It's the darnest thing ain't it? To have none of all the countless "friends" you thought you had in times that you're in a slump only to find that there's someone else with you, who you didn't expect to find. And you get crappy sounding advice which you inadvertently follow which apparently makes the situation you're in, not a long way better, but better nonetheless.

"Why don't you go out? Get a life!"

The next day, I went to a medical mission with two of my closest buddies, had a road trip and had the most fun I've had in months. But that's another story altogether.

"Do I have to put something in the title or just paste the HTML code?"

"No, but you could. Like, AM I FAMOUS YET?"

"Hahaha! You crack me up!"

I don't know if I'll ever get to see Speed Date Girl again or even get to hear the sound of her voice. And she might not even know that she's helping me through this extremely tough time. But one thing's for sure, even after all the zero's of my AM I FAMOUS YET? blog visits counter become all 9's, I'll remember her. And maybe then, we'll meet and knock back a brew to toast famous little old me.

FLAT

Life is like a wheel. Sometimes you're up and other times you're down. But sometimes, just when you're down, you get a flat.

It's Thursday. I wake up to the rambling outside my bedroom door, calling me out to lunch. I wasn't hungry. After dismissing the maid with an irritated moan I made sure was heard outside, I went back to sleep. A few hours later, I checked my phone for messages I was almost sure weren't there then I finally slugged off to take a shower and set what's left of the day to finish what I started 3 days ago. My arms still hurt and I'm not even sure if it's from lifting weights all night or from moving all the stuff in my room which I managed to put in an organized mess.

Ten years have passed since I was an honor student in highschool, president of my class, played soccer, a member of the national team and had one more thing that I'm certain was the envy of every other guy I knew. A medical degree and 40 pounds later I'm wondering how the hell I even got here. While everybody else was probably busy getting their papers done to get matched for medical internship, I've spent half the week searching the corners of this room for the drive to get out there and move forward.

In my mind, I knew it to be true. I said it more than a million times. A million times for ten years. But after ten years, i guess it wasn't enough.

It's just as they described it, a hollowness that chews you up to the core leaving you with a lingering feeling of nothingness so profound it just sucks you dry. Bones ache, thoughts race. You desperately try to do anything to keep your mind off of it. Discover that in closing your eyes at the break of dawn, the thoughts return to riot. You sleep but wake up exhausted. Alone.

It was, as they say, a good one. No arms flinged across the face, no harsh words exchanged, no voices were raised. Good.

We met again weeks after, in a party. We talked in between bouts of me entertaining my guests. Everything was swell and splendid. The night eneded. A hug at her door. We were both smiling as we said good night that night.

"It was fun growing up with you."

That hurt more than anyone would ever care to know.

You see, there's never really a good one. Tears stream and the pain is so real. A treasured past dies and a planned future dies with it. There's never a good one. There's only bad and there's worse.