I wonder if other people feel happy too without any provocation whatsoever.

Maybe it's just the summer winds getting under my skin. The beach. The beach is calling me.

RT was playing a string of reggae music this afternoon. I must look a bit crazy to my officemates while I was groovin' on my seat to the tune of Underneath It All (I was on earphones). Ah but I wouldn't have grown up to be such a cheerful boy if I cared too much about what other people think.

I long to walk barefoot on warm sands during sultry summer nights, listening to the gentle roar of the sea, enjoying an iced vodka or two maybe, thinking very pleasant thoughts. My officemates are planning a jaunt to Bolinao, Pangasinan this May. Sweet! Can't wait, can't wait.

And perhaps the summer winds are also to blame for this urge to dance my nights away. There's a new disco in Morato I'm itching to try out. DJ's from all over the world will be performing around Makati in the months to come.

I wanna PARTY!

This should have been posted on April 5, but stuff prevented me from doing so. Then the holidays came. But here it is.

Kurt Cobain died 10 years ago, April 5.

From him I learned that I don't have to be ashamed of myself, and that if other people have a problem with who I am, it's theirs not mine.

From him I learned that the worst kind of people are those who try to be who they are not, because they feel that what they are is not good enough. The sad thing is that they only succeed in fooling themselves. Duplicity is so easy to see.

Up to now I still feel a great dislike towards poseurs.

I still feel a pinch of sadness everytime I remember that the man I used to worship ran out on me. I wish I could have told him that he was not alone. That he was doing something good. That he was helping a lot of kids like me. I wish I could have told him that he has started a revolution, and together we could conquer the world.

This particular Nirvana song is dear to me because (1) it's virtually unknown and (2) a stranger went up to me after I sang this and told me I sang it well, almost as good as Kurt. He couldn't have given me a better compliment.

I dived with him. He died on me.


Dive

Pick me, Pick me yeah
Live alone, lone single
At least, at least yeah
Everyone is hollow

Pick me, pick me yeah
Everyone is waiting
Pick me pick me yeah
You can be the baby

Hey
Dive dive dive
Dive in me
Dive dive dive
Dive with me
Dive with me

Kiss this, kiss that yeah
Live alone, lone single
At least, at least yea
You could be my hero

Pick me, pick me yeah
Everyone is waiting
Hit me, hit me yeah
I'm real good at hitting,

Hey
Dive dive dive
Dive in me
Dive dive dive
Dive with me
Dive with me

Yes.

Even typing this entry takes too much effort.

I just want to eat and sleep. Dream maybe.

Scratch that. I do not know what I want.

Or perhaps I do not want anything. Right now, at least.

I am content, by the grace of God.

I have a million words for pain and sorrow and anxiety but I cannot describe this peace. It's just what it is.

Peace.

I will tell you where I am. Not where I want to be, sometime in the future. Where I am, right now:

I am no longer hiding.
I am no longer worried.

I am glad.
I am at peace.
I am content.
I am not afraid.

I am ready for more.

I am not in the habit of lying.

Since I'll be going to Bolinao next week end I have been trying to save up as much as I can.

Yesterday, I had to meet my friend at Tower Records along Quezon Avenue. I was to introduce him to this sound engineer I know since his band is thinking of recording a few of their songs.

He paid for my fare all from Tower to Banawe, then from Banawe to SM Fairview. A really nice guy, that friend.

When I rode another FX from SM Fairview to our village, a friend of my sister recognized me and paid for my fare as well.

Ergo, I got home without paying a single cent. Amazing, when I think about it. I guess it's God's way of reminding me that He takes care of my every need.

I was able to finally borrow the Nuendo installers from my sound engineer friend yesternight. That and a truckload of other music editing tools. Heaven! I can't wait to play with them. The software aspect of my home studio is now more than adequate.

The moment I get my hands on a middle-sized fortune I am going to get a Mackie DFX12 mixer and an SM57 microphone, for starters. Then Howling Mad Music will really fly.

Possibilities, possibilities.

***
Speaking of possibilities, I am finally getting getting the chance to play percussions. My church will now be getting a k-hon because I told them that I could probably play it. So now I'm the de facto percussionist in one of our cell churches. My sister's churchmates, on the other hand, also invited me to play the bongos for them. Nothing really special about that except that V herself thought of inviting me. Practice starts tomorrow and every Friday hence at GCF North.

Needless to say from now on, my early Friday nights are already reserved for her, err.. I mean them.

It's wonderful how much difference a little sense of commitment makes.

Allow me to be selfish on rare occassions.

I was baptized last Saturday at 4K Resort in Sta. Maria, Bulacan. I carefully chose those whom I would invite. As expected, a number of them didn't make it. They gave their respective reasons and of course I understood. Apologies were given and accepted. Yet I cannot say in all honesty that everything's fine with me.

I am basically a low-maintenance guy. I don't need much attention, nor do I seek it. I only ask that my friends be there during the rare times that it really matters. In asking a friend if he would've still felt bad if I missed his wedding despite the fact that my excuses were valid, he quickly nodded in assent. To that I added that in the future, I may be wedded to the lady of my dreams, or father my first child, but the day of my baptism, though less grand, is by no means less significant. That is the day when I declare to the world to Whom I truly belong.

Perhaps it's my fault for not explaining clearly the significance of that event. 10 years ago I came to know Christ quite by accident (or so I thought), in the privacy of my room. No church ever took me under its wing. My parents were violently opposed to my conversion so I had to practice my faith in secret. This prevented me from joining a local church.

My first contact with the Christian Community was in college. There I finally met my Blood brothers and sisters. They taught, I learned. By the grace of God I grew under their instruction and, at a certain point, committed myself to serving Him through the campus ministry.

Those days of service made up one of the most fulfilling periods in my life (so far). I served with the best of them, was honored with the best of them. Yet I never could shake the feeling of inferiority because I didn't have a church yet and I still haven't gone through the ceremony of baptism. My contemporaries assured me that it was a mere formality but that did not lessen my hunger for it one bit.

When I graduated I finally got a job and earned the right to follow my God in the way that seemed best for me. I hunted for a church and found one. It took me another year or so before I could finally go through the rite.

Grand total: 10 years. Yet I do not grudge God the delay. The past decade seemed almost geared toward that day and when He thought I was ready, the oppurtunity came. I took it.

Of course I wanted my loved ones to witness the first day of the rest of my life.

I know I am being selfish. I know that no offer of food and refreshment can possibly make up for the trouble of taking that long trip to Bulacan. I know that the only reason they would come, if ever, is because of the strength of their affection. I know that they won't get anything from it aside from my gratitude. My resentment, if any, does not come without a sense of guilt.

But I am not one who would let the absence of some to overshadow my joy from the presence of many. My new friends from GCF came. We're virtually strangers to each other but they found it worth their while to be my witnesses.

Lynne woke up before dawn just so that she could pick up Iking and be at North Fairview by 0730. She lives in Pasig.

Jamby lugged our lunch (good for 16 people) all by herself.

Melvin missed his wife's medical check-up that day. They're expecting a baby before the end of the year.

No, I cannot be sad. These people found me worthy of their time. I could tell them how thankful I am, but talk is so cheap these days and I don't want to add to the glut. I'd rather show them, as they did me.

Pictures soon.

My officemates and I will be leaving for Bolinao, Pangasinan in a few hours. How to kill time.

1. Go home, get some sleep before the long roadtrip.
2. Go to Fuente Circle here in Eastwood and watch the Bikini Open.

Gee.

I guess I'll be going home.

(Notice that I'm not really into writing right now. I just wanted to test my new icon. I think I might change my color scheme to complement it.)