Entries for May, 2008
May 7th, 2008
Popcorn and Iced Tea
For nine years nine months and four days … I have watched you grow up to the boy you are now.
For nine years nine months and four days … I have enjoyed your company, laughing at the most mundane jokes … and crying at the tear-jerking segments of animated films …
For nine years nine months and four days … I have cherished our father-son Sundays … and lately watching big-screen movies with oversized popcorn bags and biggie iced tea …
For nine years nine months and four days … you have been my best buddy … when my soul was about to collapse, your smile was the pillar that gave me strength …
For nine years nine months and four days … you have been my life … the very air that I breathe ...
Since I left last February … I used to wonder how I would be, this May 7th … now I know …
Happy birthday, son … I miss you … everyday …
... z ...
Posted by tuliro at 07:55 PM |
May 14th, 2008
Death Take Me
Sleep, z … it is 4:30 am … why don’t you fucking sleep …?
Work … yes … work till your fingers bleed and that so-called precious lifeblood seeps into the spaces in your keyboard … death by Dell …
Death … death take me, damnit! Take this wretched creature from this hell … his absence wont matter … collect this waste of life into your cold embrace as you prematurely did his mother so many years ago … he would have been better off in her place that 20th of January …
Stupid … man is, by nature not good, but stupid. He challenges fate when he knows for a fucking fact that life is bullshit. Spurts of happiness thrown your way makes you believe that life is good … wishful thinking.
Death take this man … a being crazy enough to think he can actually mean anything. It won’t work, z … that blood on your arm is just another sign that you are nothing but a coward. Why didn’t you just use the knife to stab yourself instead… save yourself from anymore pain. Some people will miss you … probably … but as time winds away … they will forget. Everybody does … they’ll forget the way you smile … the way you laugh … the hue of brown in your eyes … and finally your name. You’ll just be another lump of fertilizer buried somewhere.
Andre … what about Andre? … Dear Lord … please … please make him a better man than me … please, please don’t let him stray … I love that little tike so much more than I can say … again … the tears … does the prospect of leaving him distress you, z? hahahahahaha … fool!
Andre is smarter than you … he will make it … maybe even farther if you weren’t around …
Death take me … take this mangled heart and keep it. It is worth nothing to a dead man. You have always been known that you were creative in your ways … will it be any different when you claim me?
I have always believed in heaven … despite my conscious efforts to disbelieve … do I deserve to even go there? …
Take me … reaper of souls … I will wait …
… z …
Posted by tuliro at 01:17 PM |
SOFIA
My dear Sofi …you turned one year old when I left for Qatar … just two days after your first birthday. Sofia Rafaelle … do you know that it was your brother who gave you your name?
I miss you, my little angel … the same name my mother gave Andre’ before she passed away. I hardly even know you … for I have missed the best times of your life … I am truly sorry, my sweetling …
My heart breaks to even think of not being able to meet you again … to hold you near me …
If my call for death to claim me is answered … all I ask from you is for you to be good … to be a good sister to Andre’ … a good daughter to your mother …
Fate has torn us away from each other … and if, by chance I am still able to survive this crossroad in my life, then perhaps we will get to know each other better …
I love you Sofi …
Dad
Posted by tuliro at 01:25 PM |
May 20th, 2008
Breathing
I watched a movie the other night … The Bucket List … about two old men stricken with cancer and how they created a list of the things they wanted to do before they “kicked the bucket.” They say there are five stages of grief … in their conversation, five stages before suicide – denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. In retrospect, I went through a deep depression a few nights ago … enough to almost, just almost end it all. It didn’t work … and until today, I still wonder what the missing ingredient was, to ultimately push me over the edge.
Bargaining … I don’t remember having wanted to bargain for anything. I was in and out of anger, denial, depression and acceptance so fast, my head was practically spinning … my mind was dead to the world. It was insane and it still chills me to realize how deep I had fallen into my own emotional chasm. Lucidity does not guarantee sanity … in the scraps of clarity that I recall … not one thought was rational.
Needless to say … I have survived that storm … my arm still stinging from another act of stupidity … emotions still reeling from the tempest that has come and gone with viciousness I have never witnessed before. As I stumble forward away from the aftermath, I look behind to see minimal collateral damage … just the now-torn and ragged flag of hope I raised the day I came here.
As it flutters wildly in the tailwinds of the storm, I realize that I am still lucky … although my hope of succeeding in this harsh land seems all too unlikely … and that I may have verily wasted a year in my life … at least … I am still breathing.
...z...
Posted by tuliro at 01:10 PM |
May 26th, 2008
Eight Ways to Sunday
It is not in my nature to remain in one single state of emotion for a very long time. For those who have aged as ungracefully as I have … where shit falls all around you and still remain clueless of which divine ass it fell from, I have learned to be elusive. I am not a bad person … deep in my heart, I know this. Why fate taunts me and screws me eight ways to Sunday, I have no fucking idea. Regardless, I have developed a rather impressive sense of “fixing” things.
I fix my emotional traumas by either clamming up and become oblivious to everything and everyone around me … or I immerse myself in work and hobby to shrug off any further burdens … I become a recluse. I punch a small hole on this dark velvet blanket … enough to breathe … to heal from my poignant thoughts that fast become only memories.
Andre’ is both my elixir and my kryptonite in these times. Just as much as he still gives me strength despite our immense distance apart, my thoughts of his misery seeps into my soul and I am once again, the lonely father.
I am now trying to raise myself from my self-dug grave … to make the most of what I have, which is almost close to nothing. My family is a gazillion miles away, my pride is shattered and money? … yeah right … don’t even get me started on that topic. Nevertheless, my gloom and close self-destruction seems to have uncovered one realization … that I “fix” things and could probably still keep my bat swinging.
Let the crap fall … surely, it can’t last forever.
… z …
Posted by tuliro at 04:06 PM |