Author Archives: markie09

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About markie09

a music lover at heart, hopeless romantic, sports fan, frustrated DJ and photographer, workaholic-slash-homebody who spends most of his time pondering on when his time on the relationship ride will come; a quiet, yet equally loquacious individual who would rather be at the sidelines than hog the limelight, yet at times longs for his 15 minutes of fame; an imaginative and observant movie buff who most of the time watches movies or binge-watch TV series alone and considers professional wrestling as a real sport; a detail-oriented drummer wannabe who at times would change his mind at the last minute, yet determined and focused once his mind and heart is set on a goal; a taken-for-granted, dignity-trampled-on, emotionally-ignored individual who is easy to fall in love with, yet always being played a second fiddle by women whom he falls for; a Gemini in the true sense of the word who would think of the most obnoxious and dreadfully naughty things at one time, and preach of morality, righteousness and the good of mankind in another; a self-professed loner who takes on the world and the cruelties that go along with it, on the verge of giving up but for some unknown reason continues to press on and make people around him think better of who and what they think they are simply because he just damn cares.

A Letter to My 20-year Old Self

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Dear 20-year old Mark,

Hey there. You’re a day after entering the final year of your second decade, so happy birthday. It’s me 20-plus years into the future. You may be wondering why I’m writing you. Well, it’s nothing really; I remember that year so well and it being a significant point in life. You’re a few months after your very first break-up and I know it still hurts like hell, but by this time, you’re about to embark on living one of your–or should I say, “our”–dreams we had when “we” were kids: working for McDonald’s. That, in some way will take your mind off the pain. And yes, you’re going to enjoy every second of it.

No, I’m not going to go all Biff Tannen on you and hand you a Gray’s Sports Almanac of life and tell you what to do with it. Far from it. I do know you have lots of questions about how it is in the future. Much has indeed changed, but it’s not quite like how you’re imagining it right now. I look back at all the things I’ve done starting from where you are now, and I can proudly say that I don’t regret anything I did or didn’t do. Would I change some of those things if given the chance? Probably, but not at all likely.

Here’s the thing: your twenties will be a whole new learning experience for you after you finish college next year; and will really prepare you when you hit your thirties which will be a lot tougher. And I want you to see and experience it without any spoilers or expectations. You’ll feel the highest of highs, the lowest of lows, and everything in between. You’ll see and do things you’d never thought you would, and meet lots of people who will help shape, mold, and guide you. Some will have more impact than others, there are those who will hurt you (even break you), yet there will be a select few who will be for keeps.

Believe me, there’s no need to be anxious or afraid. Mom and Dad raised you–both of us–well. And our siblings are the best we can ever have. Having a tight-knit family is an excellent foundation, and more often than not, you’ll lean on those experiences growing up in most of the decisions you’ll be making. No, I’m not going to tell you what my current family situation is. Remember, no spoilers. I guess the main reason for this letter is somehow for me to try and get as close as I want to what you’re currently seeing and feeling right now at that age because that’s the launching point of living a life like no other. Knowing what I know now, it will be really nice to go back and have that feeling of excitement as new chapters in your life begin and end. And without giving away any significant information, all I can tell and advise you is, that from time to time, stop and take stock of what you have. Absorb and appreciate everything that happens to you. Whether you ultimately end up in my current situation or not, it doesn’t matter. As long as you don’t have any regrets.

But, if there’s only one thing that I can really tell you about the both of us that has never, ever waivered in the midst of all the things I experienced and what you’re about to experience, is that you’re a gentleman when it comes to women. A real one. Always have been. Never lose sight of that. Even if you’re hurt, or feel that your insides are ripped apart, tossed and turned, your dignity and sanity have been dragged face first through the asphalt and rolled over twice by a horde of tanks, your feelings are taken advantage of like a limitless ATM machine and incinerated many times over; still, be a gentleman. It’s one of the things you’ll never regret.

That’s it. I don’t want to take up much of your time reading this. And thank you for doing so. If I could only go back and look at you and the enormous potential you have in your eyes, it would be totally worth it. And maybe it would make me feel more validated about everything I experienced up to this point. Like the saying goes, “the world is your oyster.” Live it, enjoy it. Final parting words for you that we constantly say here in the future: stay safe.

Happy 20th.

Connections

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Sometimes, ideas come easily. Other times, you’re trying to shake your brain to come up with something… anything. This unfortunately, is one of the latter ones. Yet as hard as I may try, I still end up typing on the keyboard what naturally–or maybe desperately–comes to mind. One would think that after two straight weekends of finally having new material written, I’d be back in the groove. But I guess, I’m more rusty than I thought.

I did have one topic in mind, but I feel that the timing isn’t appropriate (yet) to pen it down. Maybe in a couple of weeks. To think that after seeing Yasuke on Netflix, WW84 on HBO Go, and continuing my Friends marathon (also on Netflix), my mind would have fresh material to play around with. Still, I can’t quite get the creative gears going (even after having two beers and three shots of whisky–going on a fourth).

So I tried looking back at what happened the past week. It was actually quite a work week, with two early and long days, a bunch of interviews and meetings, and a couple of presentations. Well, not necessarily presentations per se, but I would probably say speaking engagements I had to be part of. In any case, it was a long, drawn out week. But what stood out during that week was a group call I received late Friday shift (early Saturday morning).

My shift was winding down, and it was about an hour after I finished the last of my meetings for the week. I was in the middle of finishing whatever emails I had to send out when my Messenger app rang. I saw that it’s a group call and was quite surprised that they’d call at that hour, but there wasn’t any hesitation on my part as I answered. They opened with the usual inside jokes they used to crack from time to time, and I responded with some of my own; and in no time, it was like we just physically saw each other yesterday.

Before we knew it, we’ve already been talking for more than an hour. We talked about what’s currently going on in our lives, shared stories, asked and answered questions about whatever came to mind, ranted about this damned virus and how we can’t go out like we used to, and one of them even tried to play matchmaker (seriously). But the common thing we did in the midst of all those things, was to laugh. It’s one thing to laugh when you’re watching a classic comedy TV series or even a funny movie; but to have that laughter shared among people you’ve grown to admire and respect, it’s somehow become more meaningful. And with a lot less things to laugh about these days, it was something that we all badly needed.

After the call ended, I was still smiling as I resumed to finish the remaining work tasks I had. Suddenly, instead of feeling absolutely relieved and thankful that the difficult work week was about to end, I somehow felt different. That work week was no longer defined by all the things I had to do and complete, or how my body clock was messed up, or even the number of mugs of coffee and gummi bears I consumed just to keep my sanity. It will forever be known as having that group call that made everything that week worth it.

And it also made me realize the value of checking in with people, whether they are your friends, colleagues, or even family. We constantly get reminders of looking after our own well-being, or taking personal time off, that we sometimes forget the one important thing that this virus and pandemic has taken away aside from health: our personal interactions and physical connections with people. More so, with those who we care about. Granted, there are those who will slowly or suddenly turn cold on you despite your best efforts (some, without any reason at all); but as long as you did your part, you can most likely sleep well at night. Take it from someone who’s no stranger from being left high and dry often (and used to it).

So to the group who made that surprise call, I can’t personally thank you enough. You drastically lifted my spirits up when all I was already thinking about that time was to probably hibernate all weekend. You’re all aces in my book, and I’m really looking forward to seeing–and laughing–with you personally again when it’s safe to do so. I wish you and your families safety and protection from this virus. Until we meet again.

Have a good week and month, everyone.

Places

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A cool breeze gently touched his face as he stepped out. He stopped, bottle in hand, and closed his eyes for a bit to savor the crisp, soothing flow. A voice breaks the quick, serene moment: “Nice night for a drink, eh?” He lets out a sarcastic chuckle. “It’s always a nice night for a drink,” he retorts back. “It’s what you drink and who’s with you that matters,” he continued as he walks over and takes a seat. It was another quiet weekend, far from the usual ones he had weeks before. Yet somehow, this felt quite different. Maybe a bit uneasy.

“What’s on your mind?” The voice asked. He took a sip, looked up at the starry sky, his eyes wandering the vastness of the flickering dots. He took another sip then bowed his head down.

“What, you don’t know or you don’t want to tell me?” The voice prodded.

“I don’t know… a lot… some of this, some of that,” he replied, struggling. He then continued, “like it’s either I’m heading towards a crossroad, or maybe I’m already there and can’t figure out which path to take.”

There was a pause, and all he heard next was, “huh.”

“Like you know any better, right?” He snapped as he took another sip. “You obviously can’t comprehend what I’m dealing with,” he continued with a sigh.

“Oh, I know alright. It may not look like much, but believe me, whatever you’re going through right now is not as bad as what I had.”

“Really. How so?” He asked.

“Listen, the worst thing you can do is get all stressed and riled up about things that haven’t happened yet. I know it’s in your nature to look ahead, and that’s fine. What isn’t is your constant back-and-forth over the same outcomes despite having different approaches. I’m telling you, that’s getting old and boring.”

He stood up in frustration as he quickly downs another shot. “Maybe replaying those situations in my head can help me prepare or understand what happens when I get there. Can’t you see that?,” he fires back.

“Dude, at what point does that become thinking too much and losing sense of reality and what’s happening in the here and now? That’s called thinking too much.”

He sits back down and slouches in a defeated-like manner. “I’ve done all I can, man,” he sighs. “I looked back at all the places I’ve been and learned all that I can so I make sure that I don’t end up right back there. It all seems like I’m going in circles and I’m headed back to that point and it will all be the same.”

“Hey,” came the quick reply. “Let me tell you something about what I’ve gone through. I’m guessing I’ve made quite the same mistakes a normal guy makes in life. But what I’ve learned is, you only have 50% control of your life. The other 50, are or will be the effects of how you manage your half. And that, you cannot control. It goes right back to zero the moment you get to where you steered yourself into. Or in other words, when what happens, happens. You’re an experienced guy. You’ve gone up and down the road a few times and seen a fair share of triumph and loss. Control what you can control, and let fate decide afterwards.”

He sniffed as a tear ran down his cheek. The silence was deafening after what was said. He tried to make light of the somewhat tense moment by saying, “nah, it’s more losses than triumphs,” and lets out a nervous chuckle.

“I know, I know…” came the reassuring response. And added, “but who’s counting?” They both laughed.

“But there’s one where I don’t like going back to,” he said, turning into a more serious tone as he finishes the bottle. “I’m quite lucky I haven’t returned there as much as I did. That place completely changes me to the point that people will notice it…” he trails off, staring at the tree as the breeze picks up. “And it’s something I completely don’t like,” he says as he finishes.

“Sometimes, we do go there. More often than not, we are pushed there against our will. But like I said, it’s the other 50%. Just make the most out of what you can control, alright?”

He nodded in agreement. He was about to take another sip when he realized that his bottle was empty. He stood up and headed to go inside to get another one. He was almost at the door when he was told, “but dude, seriously, you gotta tell her. I think it’s time.”

He stopped and bowed his head. He thought about her; the first time she managed to cross his mind the entire day. He suddenly felt how much he missed her, and it’s been a while since he last saw her. Their time together went like a quick flashback in his thoughts, and managed to pry a smile out of him. “Yeah, but no,” he said as the flashback ended. “I can’t. I want to, but I can’t. It’s not right. Not yet. And I don’t know when, or if it will ever be. Besides, she doesn’t even–“

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” came the interruption. “See, that makes you the guy or that guy. You often sacrifice what could give you happiness and continue to put their’s first,” added the reply.

“Story of my life, right?,” he asked sheepishly. “I’ve been hurt too much long enough and often. Another place I don’t wanna go back.”

“So, you try to steer yourself out of that; yet still care from the outside looking in. I feel you. Not that I agree, but I feel you. Those are some damn high walls you put up there, dude.”

“I have to. It’s the only way…,” was all he can say back.

“You know what can match those walls toe-to-toe? Time,” came the reply. “You can continue to build those walls, but time is the greatest equalizer. But, you’re a good guy. Fate will smile upon you again someday and you’ll get to where you want to go. But until then, go be a good guy to me and get me a drink, will ‘ya?”

He looked at the bottle in his hand. “Listen, I have this, or something by the glass, which one do you want?,” he asked.

He turned around to get an answer, but all he saw was an empty porch.

Hello, old friend

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Some say that in revisiting an old hobby, you’d never know what to expect. It could be scary, especially if you haven’t done it for quite a while and you’re afraid to mess it up or not follow through; it could be therapeutic, if you’re undergoing a lot of stress lately. It could also be overwhelming, if you’re trying too much or too hard; or it could be a re-discovery of yourself when you think or realize you don’t know where you’re headed.

When I was a kid, I loved reading. From the 15 volumes of “Charlie Brown’s ‘Cyclopedia” and the entire 1988 edition of World Book Encyclopedia, to Norton Juster’s “The Phantom Tollbooth” and the “Choose Your Own Adventure” series, reading fueled my imagination. which is as vivid today as it was back then. But as I grew older, reading stories told by other people started to lose its luster. The excitement is still there; but for some reason, reading for me had become more of a way to pass the time idly. I still do read from time to time, but not as much as way back then. I tried to revive reading some years ago. I got the first four books of “Game of Thrones” but never got halfway through the first one. Same with Roland Lazenby’s “Michael Jordan: The Life” (which was actually a gift). It just wasn’t the same.

As I slowly started to lose interest in reading, I tried to find something else to fill the void. By then, I was in college but had no idea where to start. I was always shy around other people during my growing up years (and sometimes, even up until now). I remember one time during an English class when I was called to recite about how we spent our semestral break, I couldn’t get a single word out. I mean, I knew what to say, I just couldn’t put together the words. We were then told to write it down, and I was able to fill an entire sheet of yellow pad paper in minutes. Since then, in answering questions on tests and exams that require an essay, I would almost always lack space in writing them; not to mention running out of time. I then initially thought that I found something I may be good at: writing a paper based on research and explaining material we were asked to read. And that slowly became something I was looking forward to.

I never thought of doing creative writing… until I fell in love. I started writing poems. Of course they were disgustingly cheesy since I was exploring putting unabashed, flying-on-cloud-nine emotions into a literary piece that was trying to make her heart flutter. Yet ironically, what kicked my creative writing into overdrive was when I got my heart broken for the first time, I wrote poem after poem about how I loved her, and the misery I felt in losing her. Some of my friends were able to read those, and the feedback I got was surprisingly positive. They never thought I was capable of poetry. So I continued to write and write. Some of those are immortalized on this blog, you just have to dig deep and find them. But there are those that may have been entirely lost since I wasn’t able to keep a copy of them, especially the first few ones (ugh, damn it).

As I started my professional career, my poetry-writing started to decline. Although I’d still write here and there, I then thought, “what’s next?” The idea of having a journal wasn’t really that appealing to me since at that time, it was an unwritten rule or requirement that you have to write something on a daily basis if you do decide to have one (plus the fact that having a physical journal at home containing your unguarded feelings is not entirely safe from your parents). The internet age was just starting at that time, and little did I know what that had in store for me. It was around early 2004 when the notion of having an online journal hit me. I didn’t know much about going online (okay, except for Friendster), but having a personal computer at home suddenly made me realize that I can digitally save whatever I write since the folks don’t know much about accessing files on a computer. So I started to write based on what I felt at that time. I almost always had no drafts, nor made edits along the way or before I published them; I wrote about topics and subjects free flowingly as they came to mind. I also wrote poems, trying to see if I still can do so. Again, some of them–if not most–are published here.

Since then, I’ve had several incarnations of my blog. Twitter and Facebook introduced me to micro-blogging which then became more effective for me, so I found myself slowly ditching the long-form of blogging. I became so active in Facebook posting whatever comes to mind. From politics, to what I was doing at that moment; to interview (horror) stories and current events. I “quit” Facebook in 2016 after another heartbreak, and, looking back at it now, I’m thankful I did. What started as a social media break eventually turned to a sabbatical, in which stepping away made me see how the world has changed dramatically since that year. And though I had several dances and skirmishes with so-called affairs of the heart since then, it never really rekindled my passion for writing. The few entries I’ve had over the last five years are testament to an attempt to reignite that old passion I had. Some of them are really bad, but I prefer not to delete them just to make me see where I was during those times. I have no regrets posting them (nor have any regrets about anything in my life), since they still came from deep inside. And for me, that’s the most important thing in expressing yourself. Being brutally honest, if need be.

So here I am again. Full circle. Again. I’ve said on previous entries that I’d be posting more often, but end up not doing so. I won’t make that same promise; but the one thing I can do is, whenever I can, to post from the heart… or whatever you call this thing that’s pumping blood through my veins. All I know is that I’m currently going through something. And writing about it may be a form of therapy. When you’re caught in between something you know and something you feel and they are on the opposite sides of the spectrum, but they’re both right, you have one big clusterfuck on your hands. Or maybe it’s just me being a Gemini: having that little angel and devil on my shoulder constantly arguing about who and what’s right. At least I’m writing about it. Or at least some semblance of it. For now, this would have to do.

And as I down my final shot of whisky in concluding this journal entry, I raise this toast that I heard being said somewhere before: “to unspoken words of affection that continue to keep you anchored down, may they one day be set free to discover the possibilities of happiness, or forever be chained in the name of keeping the peace.” Whatever that means.

Good to see you, old friend. Let’s try to make this a regular thing, shall we? Starting with this one.

Happy Easter, everyone.

a whimpering and sputtering finish… with a glimmer of hope

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It’s ironic that my entry before this was all about faith, or my leap from it. And just a few weeks after posting that entry, the entire world was plunged into a tailspin unseen or unheard of, that even faith couldn’t make a dent on an invisible enemy. And as we celebrate this year’s holiday season, taking stock of what we still have now means more than ever before… maybe in our entire lives.

Who would’ve thought that a virus would literally shut down the world and our modern way of life? I mean, we’ve had outbreaks before; from SARS to Avian Flu, Mad Cow disease to Ebola. Yet mankind has managed to render them under control. It makes one wonder: does progress always have inherent consequences? Is this mother nature’s way of fighting back man’s continued disdain and wanton abuse of Earth’s natural resources?

That may be the bigger picture. But this pandemic touched every single one of us. It forced us to throw out the current life playbook we have and made us stand still… literally and figuratively. And with that, jobs were lost, livelihoods were halted, families were torn apart, sanities went haywire, wheels stopped turning, and every healthcare system in the world was stretched to breaking points again and again.

But amidst all that, adversity breeds resourcefulness and most importantly, resilience. And as the world slowly starts to receive the first doses of the Covid19 vaccine, we end 2020 with a small sliver of light coming from 2021 which all of us are fervently hoping is the year we start to recover. It’s by no means a sure thing that we’ll go back to how things were before all this went down, but it’s better to be up on one knee than our faces planted flat on the ground.

Just like everyone else, this year has tested me in ways I couldn’t have imagined. Physically, emotionally, psychologically, and emotionally. Yet I’m extremely thankful for a select few people outside my family for helping me keep things in perspective, for being an inspiration, and providing a relief from the doldrums of living alone. I’ll be forever grateful for them being in my life during this time.

If you’re asking where my faith has been throughout all of this, well, it’s right where it should be. Refer to my previous entry if you’re still confused. In any case, I’m as grateful and thankful as can be for surviving this year. I probably couldn’t have made it without certain people in my life, so they’re a huge part of my 2020 chapter. And as I turn the next pages in 2021, I’ll continue to stand by them as they stood by me. No matter what happens.

This year’s Christmas may be the most different, difficult, and subdued one we’ll ever have. But nonetheless, it’s always good to take stock of what we still have, what we’ve accomplished, and look forward to what’s in store; no matter how the pandemic affected us.

Merry Christmas, everyone.