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Most people misunderstand only children. They often say that only children are spoiled brats, bitches, selfish and anti-socials. Some part of it is true, but mostly not and it depends on the upbringing of the only children—be it by their guardians or by their parents. Being an only child is not that bad, at times, it’s good.

An only child means I have no doubts that my parents love me and I’m pretty sure that I’m their favorite child. There’s no one to compete with except for our pets. I am the sole heir of my parents’ possessions. It’s just that most of my mom’s possessions are the souvenirs of attended baptisms and weddings and my dad has these badly pirated copies of blockbuster and B-movies. Our family doesn’t have so many issues. I do most of the dramas at home.

Another thing I like being an only child, I am not lonely if I’m hanging out to a nearby mall or ridiculously watching a date movie all by myself—I still avoid suspense movies though. I still enjoy the company of friends but being alone at most times doesn’t make me slash my wrist with emoness. This is what I learned for having no siblings, I’ve taught myself to be individualistic.

If there’s one thing that’s sad for only children, it’s sharing. I just don’t mean sharing of clothes or inheriting a brother’s shoes—my feet is size 10 btw. It’s not also sharing rent or relating kinky experiences with a sibling an only child misses. It’s the sharing of sadness and pain.

My lola, who recently passed away at 85, was lucky to have 10 children. My dad, her son, shares the same pain he is having along with his siblings. But for an only child, a parent passing away or simply being sick, the pain is aggravated. He solely receives the impact his parents are having. It will also be painful for an only child to see his parents arguing since he can’t be biased with his feelings toward his parents. And when he knows that both of his parents has a killer disease lurking inside them, he is pushed to live a “perfect” life for his beloved ones.

This is just a POV of an only child like me. I may have a cousin who I treat as my brother but I don’t know if that’s the same feeling of having a blood brother. I am not also sure if the feeling of an only child will differ when he finds a partner in life. Hopefully, it would.


Like what I read in most blogs about the Eraserheads Reunion, I am not a big fan. They are my favorite, yes. In fact, I only have the tribute album, Ultraelectromagnetic Jam, as a proof of my liking for songs of the band. Which later I disapproved because they included Spongecola and 6 Cycle Mind in the list. *insert (s_angry) plurk emoticon here*

Attending Eraserheads Reunion concert—like what others say—brings back memories. I was still in grade school when I first learned of them. Back then, I didn’t care much with rock music, I was more into the pop scene. I only knew Eraserheads from my Kuya and his barkada when they listen to their music through cassette tapes and walkman. They would jam to the guitar beat as they follow every chords and lyrics in the songhits. Only when I came to college of fine arts when I was exposed to the rakista scene and a much more diversified taste of music.

Here came last Saturday, the reunion concert of Eraserheads. I was not really much into it—financial matters of course, until Juned texted me that he could give us free invites. So I came with the gang of kiddies. We met there with the rest who also got the free invites. The anticipation to see Eraserheads on one stage was overwhelming.

When we got in the concert venue, the timer was already starting. It was 10 minutes prior to seeing Eraserheads playing together once again. The venue was devastatingly hot because fans, followers and those who grew up to their music filled up every corner of The Fort Open Area. I could feel the excitement, because everyone were so close to each other and their heartbeats were beating as one. Everyone wanted to see Eraserheads play. 

Until the timer striked zero…

The lights went out, then images of Eraserheads flashing on the screen as if they were the audience’s memories captured by the monitors, lights went wild on stage until a very familiar tone played; Alapaap. Hands were held up high with cellphones and cameras to capture that most prized moment. I heard everyone shouting and screaming as the legendary band appeared on stage. The crowd were singing to their song that reverberated all over the venue and as the rhythm moved faster the swaying of bodies went jumpy and dancing to the strums, drumrolls and vocals of the band. So was I, I was singing, jumping, swaying and dancing.

Eraserheads kept on playing for an hour. For an hour, I forgot the stresses my clients were giving me for the whole week. For an hour, I stopped complaining about the weather’s humidity. For an hour, I didn’t mind if my shoes were getting dirty. For an hour… fond memories came back to me.

The show only went for an hour. Ely couldn’t make it after the 20-minute break for the second set. He had to be hospitalized once again because of the exhaustion he suffered. Everybody’s enjoyment was cut short. The excitement transformed into a moment of empathy and concern. Nobody was disappointed even for some who saved their allowances and worked hard just to watch the much anticipated concert of the year. Everyone had a great time and all wished the best for the vocalist’s health.

Yes, I had fun. The crowd, the company, the music, the humidity, everything, I loved it. I had only been to a few concert and this one I would treasure the most. Unfortunately, I was disappointed. Not that because it was left unfinished—I didn’t even paid for it—because I may not able to watch it again LIVE if they decided to put up another concert.

I wish I was born earlier. So that I will know the stories behind every song. So that I can grow old with their music. So that I could have joined everyone reminiscing a much more meaningful memories. So that I’ll realize now how meaningful their songs are and how senseless of the most we have now. So that I know what Eraserheads is really like.

But I was born a little late. I was still young to get the messages of their songs. If I was born a little later, I wouldn’t have totally known them. Luckily, my memories of them are clearer than of those younger than me. And it’s not too late for me to realize that they are the coolest local band of the modern generation.

Metro Manila traffic. It’s hell! Wait, it’s not. It’s worse than hell. Not even Satan or Hades will enjoy the traffic we have here. If the Supreme Being will punish the sinfuls, He’ll just be bringing them to Metro Manila during rush hours. So if ever the punished will choose MRT or LRT, he will still perish.

I dunno why we suffer from heavy traffics everyday. We can’t use it as a valid reason anymore when we come late to our work or appointments. The only reason I see why the traffic is heavy in our major thoroughfares are those stubborn ginormous buses wanting to gather every passengers and pedestrians they see. Can we blame them? Of course not, both sides need to earn especially now when everything is soaring, except Mahal and the President. They can still fit inside Polly Pocket.

her eminence’s palace

Would you believe that getting out from our small town will already take me 15 to 20 minutes? It’s because the jeepney drivers wanted to get every passengers of our town. If only streetlamps are alive and halt them, they will get them. I am supposed to be just 15 minutes away from work—or maybe just 10—but it takes me 20 minutes to get there. It’s either I’ll be late or just a sec away from it.

Who knows when this will be diminished. I guess we have to wait until the drivers and the pedestrians be discipline. When will this happen? Nobody knows.

For now, it’s part of our urban lifestyle.

Have you seen superheroes movies lately? Have you noticed the similarities of all those movies?

I do. Most of our superheroes these days have issues. Maybe it’s the fad for most of our fictional iconic heroes. They are not just merely bland heroes who’ll save the earth from nasty super villains and global warming. Heroes should show their human side of them even if they came from another planet, say Krypton. These movies have character depth, in other words, heroes have issues too. In our term, emos.

Superhero + personal issues = character depth = EMO

I don’t know if its a pattern with these movies, or just a tried-and-tested formula of superhero movies. Superman’s weakness is not just kryptonite but also his unconditional obsession with Lois Lane, who is by the way, should suffer severe internal hemorrhage two years ago. Spiderman is a loser which everyone can relate, thus making him a badass and cool is intensely unacceptable. He is already cool being a loser. Ironman is a rich brat, in a positive way. Hancock is a drunk hero with a candid anti-hero attitude. The X-Men would have not been formed by Professor X if only they were accepted by the society. Hulk have problems with his pants getting torn apart over and over again. Batman’s villains, like Joker and Two-Face, have deeper issues than him. Even the legendary Beowulf turns out to be an egotistic maniac. Robots, cars, fishes, insects and monsters have issues too.

See, every hero should have humanistic appeal. Being them, being super is unacceptable especially to the critics. Though they are fictional characters, they should have flaws other than their weaknesses. This is just to show to the world that superheroes are not just for kids, they are for grown ups too. Heroes are corruptible, vulnerable and able to make mistakes. They are not gods who are absolute and pure.

Moviegoers are becoming more intelligent these days. They won’t waste their moneys on badly written movies. Even comedies should have depth too. Comedy should be witty now. A mental smile is better than a dumb laugh. We also forget that being dumb and mindless is already funny by itself. Where’s the fun in analyzing and interpreting parallelism anyway?

The creative license for movies are now restricted. Critics have gained control over the scripts and the directors’ creativity. Artists desire to achieve positive reviews and win awards. Producers uses formula to earn more money and be accepted by judgmental minds. Even porn movies have critics and award-giving bodies. This is how we kill our freedom, our creativity. This is how we put the “out-of-the-box” in to the box.

Is it because people are getting smarter now? Or are we just fond of over-analyzing everything?

Sometimes, it’s better going back to the basic.

Guess who’s back. I’ve decided to return here after a very short stint with my other account. Indeed, there’s no place like home. And I’m writing this while on my only boxer shorts feeling my balls on my hips.

When was the last time I posted in this account. Marimar was the fad then. Now, it’s Dyesebel. I don’t give a damn with those uberpredictable telenovelas, I care about Marian Rivera when she’s wearing her Dyesebel costume with her obvious wig covering her… chest.

Workload is still heavy at the office and blogging is the least of my priorities there. I have to plurk work, right? Of course, I have to show off my expertise and exercise professionalism to offset all my tardiness.

Now, I have the opportunity to write my journals here at home. I said before that my PC at home got busted, so how the hell in the world I got that chance? I haven’t fixed my old PC. I just had a rare chance of buying a laptop. No, I didn’t rob a bank. My dad’s company offered a promo salary loan. It’s somehow like a partnership deal from BDO and Neo. So now we have this Neo élan, which is to be paid for two years. For those who know that I’m a Mac fanatic, I know you’ll ask “Why not get a Mac?” It’s a promo deal, and we have not received the loan as cash. We had it as the actual product, okay? If we had it as cash or if I had a credit card, I certainly would get a MacBook. Enough said.

What I’m lacking now at home is an internet connection. I already applied for PLDT MyDSL, but apparently, our area was yet to be verified. It is mind-boggling since there are already internet café within our street which says they are powered with PLDT MyDSL. Fortunately, there’s a neighbor who seems to be a net savvy and owns a WiFi router… which doesn’t have a password yet. Yes, I’m stealing an internet from him, though the signal strength is so poor and my connection is intermittent. Now, methinks of hunting him and befriend him.

Plurking and blogging is now accessible at home. Will I signup as Agent Grey on plurk? I don’t think so. Just had enough handling too many accounts so I’ll let my other account do the plurking.

So there, now off to porn… no, maybe later. I’m wearing a boxer short remember?

My job for more than two years here is finally over. Now, I’m moving to a better place. No, it’s not heaven yet, I’m not dying ok? If it’s like hell living on earth, I still love it. Better place means a better job in a quite bigger office… and better computer. And yes, I will be rich. Hell yeah!

At least the internet there is not restricted, unlike here which I still have to use a proxy just to make a post or use my email to blog in my blogspot account. Of course too, I still have to know my limitations which I always tend to abuse. Especially for the first months and years, I want a stable career, do I? So Agent Grey, behave and KNOW YOUR LIMITS!

Two years is very long. Within those two years, I’ve been to many aspects of my life. Joy, stresses, fun and experiences. I’ve been an active blogger/writer and broaden my horizon through cyberspace at the heydays of stagnation and boredom. I’ve met different personalities and friends online, attended parties and get drunk with them. I’ve gained pounds and shed them off to show muscle definition. I also experienced restriction from the net and prohibited watching in youtube but not xtube. My two years here have come to an end, and those years I have stayed here will always retain in my memory and with all these writings. So shall it be cherished forever. I do hope with this new beginning I’m having as a professional can make me more productive… and give me a girlfriend for crap’s sake.

I am actually working there as a part-timer, I work there after my work here. So I can actually call it a two-timer than a part-timer. But hey, we need to earn. Today is a payday, it means I’ll be doubling my cheques. I’m a thousand peso richer than before. Well, it’s just now because by Monday, I will be full-time in my new office. One more thing, Holy Week is coming and I’ll be spending much of my cash vacationing with my friends.

Oh the vacation, yeah…

My gang, the Adbertaysers, will have it’s annual holy week vacation again. I didn’t join them last year because some of my hullabaloos but this time I will—if my budget permits me. The gang initially puts my mom’s hometown, Aparri, into the list of where we can stay for holy week. Unfortunately, we can’t go there for now because no one will assist us. My aunt there gets sick whenever she gets stressed. Maybe we’ll be there next time, when my mom will be there to cook us those sumptuous comfort meals.

So the plan will be to Batangas this year. It will be the second time for them, and the first time for me. I badly need to reshape my abs and have that V-taper before the holy week vacation. In case you don’t know, I’ve lost a few pounds, a bit of my love handles, contoured my upper abs and bulked my pecs. Thanks to my program and instructors at my neighbor gym. But I have to double my efforts at the gym to get that sizzling hot body for the long weekend. Or maybe… I won’t eat for five days.

So there. I’ll start in a new work and have a grandiose vacation next week.

Now, to count my backpay… later, my part-time salary.