however, that didn't work too.
don't ask me why. (",)
26.2.06
[j.s. promenade '06 correspondent's special report: part 1 of 2]
"mike, palinis naman ng sapatos, please!" "ayoko nga. ikaw naman gagamit eh."
fine... i muttered to myself, while looking up at our 17-year old wall clock. quarter to five. oh damn, i'll never cram again in deciding whether to participate on social gatherings.
then i rushed down the stairs, brush and rag in hand, where my pair of dirty school shoes lay. start scrubbing... i don't have a choice... dad's shoes must be size ten...
the next time i looked up, the pair still resembled school shoes, and the time was five minutes to five. i dropped the cleaning paraphernalia aside and went straight to the bathroom. they won't be expecting me because of my shoes, anyway...
ouch! why didn't i notice the heater set at 80 degrees celsius? maybe it's all part of growing up. just like the five o' clock matter that's close to making me freak out...
i emerged out of the shower room five-quarter. oh well, i'm already (in)famous for being like this, right? but dad better arrive here early or else i'm going to strangle myself with this tie, i said to myself. was this part of growing up too?
beep beep beeeeep!! dad just arrived, luckily just in time, because i was about to choke myself with my cravat. however, he really didn't fare better than i did... not until he reknotted it for the seventh time, when the clock read quarter to six. at least we were now ready to go... =======
six-thirty: a miracle happened. no, we didn't fly through commonwealth avenue, but it was definitely a surprise when i found out that the doors to the function room were still open.
"gab! ang aga mo!"
right there at the entrance of the function room stood two of my classmates whose first names started with the letter d: one wore fiery red, the other, periwinkle blue. i suspected that they were also victims of prom-cramming, so i gratefully escorted the one wearing red through the carpet.
upon fixing ourselves at the designated position, i heaved out a big (silent) sigh of relief. my partner, who held a rose, picked two petals... "itago mo yan ha. gusto kong makita yan sa monday."
gab! ba't naman may flowers ka dyan sa notebook mo??? ahh... ang ganda noh! hindi ko kakalimutan yung mga nagbigay nyan...
=======
"miles! pahiram ng salamin!" i mouthed to a girl wearing a black gown. she drew out of her bag a silver-framed pair.
wow. i reminisced last year's prom, when i wore exactly the same outer apparel, except for my red tie and the glasses.
what will be the difference between today's and last year's? as i pondered on the idea, i secretly picked a yellow daisy from the table vase decors.
ah, yes. the color of my "brooch". =======
promenade (n.): a social ball exhibiting formality and grandeur; held for a school class towards the end of the academic year; traditionally a coming-out event to adulthood.
the venue: celebrity sports club, capitol hills, quezon city. the first word makes it attractive. ambiance suited for a promenade. lights are way too blinding, however. ventilation is ok. somehow looks smaller compared to gazebo royale. sun cellular signal became a myth.
the program: just like what is expected on a prom: lengthly processions, rose and candle exchanges, dramatic speeches. too much dead space, and otherwise, worthless time spans. started late; in for a cramming session. and i nearly forgot: awardings and cotillion de honor. and the dance, of course.
teacher participation: alarmingly high. minor downside of the event.
student satisfaction: unsatisfactory.
the food: it turned out to be the same with our saturday dinner. the spaghetti and nachos were saviors.
the sound crew: major meltdown. i'll expound on that later.
g_b got tired of senseless ranting by 19:16. |
24.2.06
a glance at my watch told me that i was in for another late-night lambasting. the glow-in-the-dark hands formed a precise right angle pointing to the west and north. such has been the case for three straight days, so i can't blame them for being too worried.....
however, there were other things to worry about. for one, there's the empty stomach factor, and provided the money constraints, i ought to watch out... two, there's the occassional "kiko kid" that would search your pockets for a 2-peso cigarette minimum, and who knows what else.......
that in mind, i pulled out a favorite contraption of mine. i knew that its swiss army knife's blade was not sharpened or chiseled, but definitely enough for 10 minutes of security. i'd like to see them try, a small voice whispered inside... the thought made me smile for a split-second, but it was more of a worried smile, and it made me grip the utility object harder...
as i pursed my lips and shooed away such notions, i drew out my cellphone to notify my dad of my whereabouts... simultaneouly while crossing mindanao avenue that was under a yellow-light rule. i was accustomed to that habit, and i never had experienced any untowardly incident while doing so... until...
BEEEEEP! BEEEEEP!
THUD.
i felt the swiss knife drop from my hands and my bag swing with violence as a black Honda grazed my backside. not a bit terrified but quite shaken, i turned to face the vehicle, asking myself why is he speeding when the light is yellow? and why did he only start beeping when his side mirror had already crashed against my bag?... seeing that his window is down, i ran back to say a brief 'sorry' to the driver....
kaye, alam mo ba kung ano yung pinakamalaking takot ko? pwera sa pag-alis ko? iba pa dun! hindi eh... masagasaan yung katabi ko...
UTL-541. The Devil's Honda Civic, i muttered to myself.
after picking up the army knife (which miraculously remained intact) i proceeded to the other side, this time ensuring that i wasn't looking in my cellphone before crossing, and thankful that the Devil knows that he didn't act according to the universal timing...
g_b got tired of senseless ranting by 10:31. |
21.2.06
i wish i could cheerfully await the coming of spring... but, oh, that's impossible. the month of february proves just that.
why? because everything seems to be a matter of randomized realizations flurrying around in my overworked psyche... like these... hey, look, it's the month of february! happy valent- oh, i'm rushing... happy birthday to you, snoopy! for your 16th birthday, i give you... the cold shoulder! ain't it lovely? but... do you even know me? by the way, you ought not feel special - you're not the first recipient of such, believe me. so might as well forget me and the silver accessory and the piggy hotdog pillow and august twenty-three and forevermore....... huh? prom? that's ages away! why the fuss? date? oh, no, no date! better if no dance too! i'd rather be with my friends... friends? who are my friends? oh yeah, the usual - those who pound me with knuckles and jackhammers during break time, they who love to make assumptions without any strong bases, and they who give away cold shoulders! who are you to dictate my influx of emotions and thoughts? bah.... as senseless as st. valentine's death anniversary! who is he and why do we commemorate his death when his presence is nowhere to be found? why do guys give flowers on this day? why not on january twelve? man, this world is nuts?... which reminds me... i spent sixty-five pesos for low-quality roses, only to give them to a girl who administers the cold shoulder on me and only cares about the gift and not the giver! isn't one year of absolute pain, idiosyncratic melancholy and martyr-like stupidity enough? why did i let such go down the drain when the freak drowned me with sweet meaningless words? and then i think... and think... and assume... no, that's not right... oh man, she's banging my head over and over to my threshold point of internal hemorrhage! why can't she tell me that i'm a good-for-nothing bloke and that i would be simply of no use to her? vanity, oh yes, all is meaningless, all is nothing, nothing but vanity!!!! next thing i know, i find myself on asteroid b612, watering a rose that i picked up from the rosebushes. it was then i looked at my palm, and exclaimed... how could if forget that roses had thorns? look, i have a scar to nurse, produced by the rose that had the sharpest thorns... but how could i love such a rose? how?!?! then i realize that something painful is bound to happen to me whenever i do something right. why so? because pain is a wonderful gift of God... that's why... maybe i should keep that in mind whenever i plan to do things in the near future... oh... my future! just now that i remembered... hey, i'm a senior! i've got approximately one month left before being upgraded to alumni status... so where does my future lie, after quesci? everyone's freaking about, searching for evasive signs of the first week of february upcat results! and that's including me. for a fact, i have a correspondent at the palma hall annex who calls me on a regular basis... but i'd still call her, upcat or no upcat, no matter... haha! but seriously, i dream of being in the european lowlands, sitting in front of the basilica, admiring the way the doves chase the red sunset, holding hands with the damsel i'll love for the rest of my days... oops! you caught me daydreaming... ahh.. where was i? oh yes, the near future, when there will be dancing, weeping, gnashing of teeth, and last-minute cramming for a bunch of tests... wait... dancing, did i say? well, you ought to know about our j.s. prom, right? so do tell me - what is safer to miss, prom or gradball? i told you, february felt so boring, i'm not even looking forward to our promenade... i haven't even listed myself as one of the attendees... that will be a last minute decision, i suppose... date, you ask? no way. no date! or better, i'm dating all my friends, in a sense... last dance? who cares? let things happen the way they are supposed to come to pass, and learn to keep our noses away! that's the ultimate secret to happiness, because happiness is merely a state of mind! and so is boredom...
conclusion: february might be that boring because we know that march is at hand, and we know what march '06 means to seniors like me. ciao! (",)
p.s. happy birthday to ma. abigail moreno (16), pebbles sanchez (17), jay barcelona (21) and ronnie miguel besas (22)!!!
g_b got tired of senseless ranting by 22:30. |
it was just about now when i noticed that people write things about themselves in the profile section of their online diaries. then i looked at my former blog sites, and, it was like... whoa, am i really that weird?
so maybe it's time for a bit of change, a touch of conventionalism. for once, at least.
well, you see the guy in the picture? yeah, that spectacled boy running in haste? that's supposed to be me, j. gabriel de leon y limpin... what does j stand for, you ask? it's for me to know and for you to find out if you still don't know.
i'm a 16-year old boy who wears a pair of glasses, sports unkempt hair, and usually dons loose clothes. i might look a bit plump in the drawing, but in actuality i'm a tall, dark, skinny, frail guy who always forgets to drink his milk and take his breakfast. up to know i still wonder how come i stand at five-feet-eight-inches but weigh only 102 pounds...
way back then, i was a small, plump kid who showed a lot of promise. during parties, my mom and dad would usually strut around and boast of how intelligent, how healthy, how handsome i was. for eight or so years, that had been the case. i got my share of respect, like this little prince...
then came a heartbreak, and high school.
inexplicably, i suddenly became a complacent and idle guy who fell in love with my personal computer too much, even to the point of forgetting if i already had dinner. i was transformed into a student ridiculously full of potential but never getting to use the stuff. i developed a very healthy sleeping habit that made me garner the honorable distinction of being the student earliest for the nth class.
high school went on, heartbreaks pursued at will, and down to oblivion went that once promising young kid. so much for the pride of my parents.
today, i still look back to him. in fact, i'm trying to revive him, after four years of dormancy, or something more like stagnation. impossible, yes, but it's worth a try. too late, maybe, but i'll prove that it's not.