Engine break

I will never be a good driver...

Just as I will never be a good flirter....

Just as I will never be a good debater.....

Just as I will never be a good disaster......

For I will ever be, a far better disaster than any that came before me.

We often associate ourselves with the experience of driving. We somehow manage to find connections or explanations from the aformentioned act to our very own private lives.

I am one with you in this. I must admit, the only driving I did thus far was step on the accelerator pedal and moved an L300 FB for about a meter. My uncle, rather distraught by my terrified look after the short trip, tried to encourage me to put the pedal to the metal for at least some more meters.

I by the way was eleven. The issue was not that I could not reach the pedal, it was just I dared not to. The all the more disturbing, or shall I say humiliating truth then was that I was attempting to drive an L300(all power...dual aircom...real strong brute...)in an open unpaved road of stone and sand in our Zambales vacation outhouse lot with nothing to hit, except the house some thousand of steps away, a tree maybe 100 meters away and well, other stones than were the size of a marble. No cars, no trees, no crossing carabaos and I just could not move the damn thing.

My heart was pounding, the gear was rather more of a stick to my eye than a stick to move vehicles for miles.

I was afraid. My uncle took over, gave me a lesson or two, but I paid no attention.

The experience? Not really traumatic per se, something else. Humiliating? Not even. Humbling? Yes. I could have used a whooping or two back then. Well, Uncle Eddy was rather patient. So, he just gave the concerned look and took over the gear.

Now he's in the United States. I hear he is delivery department chief now. As for me? Haven't moved a car since. Once, yes, I backed off down our steep garage. It was a sedan, a low car, so guess what? I heard screeching sounds below me. Dad jokingly said I backed off too fast, so much that the chassis or the metal underneath was already hitting the concrete. I jokingly reacted, pressuring the brake pedal with my dear life, and said that scratching of the metal would not have happened if the garage wasn't so steep in the first place. Anyway, all things are cool with my dad. He just likes to keep things simple. Simply put, he watched me back off that poor car and see how much white paint was scraped off. I never want to look back on this again. O the agony! ;(

You may wonder as to why I am so fond of reminiscing my driving mishaps.

Was on another of them jeepney rides home. I have developed this cheeful side of me when inside a jeepney, or any public utility vehicle for that matter. I need not say, I love commuting! What is this cheeful habit? I love to pass the payment of fellow commuters to the driver or the one seated nearer to him. When on the move from UP towards home, I try to make myself happy by looking around for hands reaching out. I honestly love the sensation of the coins being put to your hand and coin's ridges gently rubbing against your skin fresh from alcohol application.

Alcohol and metal together smell good.

Going back, yeah I do take great pains to look around, strain my neck and find helpless passengers eagerly begging that someone submit their proofs of compliance to the fiscal laws. Another relatively good habit of mine is to sing with the radio at times to the point I get heard more than the speaker's output. It just happens that I do know the lyrics of the songs they play on the radio. Like a while back, The Day You Said Goodnight by Hale. Their lead singer Champ has this way of thickening his voice to the point that it sounds as if he's eating the words (listen to Broken Sonnet, the part where he does IN-SAYYRRRYYYD) something like that. When I pronounce the "S" parts or lines that begin or end with the letter S, I do it with a little emphasis. Most of us do...yeah I do think we pronounce the S with some funk.

The real bad part about my jeepney rides happens once in a blue moon, but are worth mentioning. See, some friends of mine from the office, alumni office, church, and extra-UP stuff to even some UP people love to miss call me to make a point or get my attention. The problem with me is that I do a quick draw on this. Remember cowboy gun draws? I snatch my phone from the pocket handle quicker than I solve math. Furthermore, I answer the phone. Thing with me is that I have no concept of engine break...the part when the car slows down by itself and makes the vroooooooom-boooom-boooom sound that slowly dies.

I have no concept of engine break...something just got to me.

So, as routine, I answer the phone. Of course, the person who miss calls...fearful of a seven peso loss far greater than Tony Blair fears his rebate in the EU, without hesitation presses the "put down the freakin phone" button. My mistake? I continue the conversation as if the person really did make a call with the same intention. Yes, I go on for two minutes doing "Ya, I'll be there, okay, what's the problem, oh dear, really?, how come? call my landline okay?, no problem" in random cycles PRETENDING that someone's on the other side.

I deliberately do this for two mintues, I think once or twice a month. But I like it.

Makes me feel better actually. Katipunan and Marcos Hi-way traffic jams are real evil.

So, as Mau wants to know by now, what is the moral of this blog?

Well kids, there is none....joke! See, if you subscribe to the idealist framework of thinking, you tend to think better of yourself...far from those realists who stick their heads in the puddle of mud. Idealists stick their heads in the clouds. Which can be a good thing come trouble time.

A Christian bias also allows your idealism to shine. I think, we're more idealist than cynical. We are 90 percent idealist, 9 percent realist and a percent cynical. We just give more importance to the one percent. Friends, let us not underestimate our quality, or the quality of the one who made us. If this leads to death, then let it be. At least we understand beauty.

But at times, I wonder how far my idea of a better world and life can go.

I need to be humbled. Something Celine said couple of hours back did that to me. No, we did NOT fight. Just something she said that caught my attention...real good.

I have no concept of engine break. I am the guy who takes the blows of this world with a smile on my face. I am the one who'd rather sit it down than stand up fighting with anyone about nothing.

But of course, this makes noisy screeches, the machine that is my body is taking things too fast and too strong like me backing off that car. It will come to a point of breaking down.

We wonder what type of struggle awaits us...the one that will define us and give us the glory. We anticipate. We wait for that defining challenge. Jose Rizal got shot. Andres Bonifacio got betrayed and then shot. What happens to me? How shall I face my demons when they rise?

Will I triumph?
What will people say of me?

What will my UP friends think?

That I was the boy who took love matters so seriously he kept on searching but no one really was meant for him? That he was a loud mouth speaker good in word play, lacking in thought? That he tried to go for change, but his kind get nowhere?

Or rather, that though he knew love as not coming to him yet in the form of his woman, he'd work for it til the end knowing he has in the final analysis, something more meaningful than riches, cars, intelligence to offer! That he was some loud mouth but at least he did it out of pure emotion! And that no, people who go for change and revolution do end up shaking this earth!

I'd like to think better of myself, not because of pride...but because I have to. If this is what takes to feed my engine, so be it.

I have no concept of engine break. I go forth to the clashing of the tides and see what happens. My case with her, I'd like to leave unresolved. It was my fault. I took the ride. I felt my momentum was good enough for her to let me in. I think she was open. I think, it was me who was playing genius, while in reality I am, still, vulnerable. If there's anyone I should apologize to for the strain and trouble, it should be her. But I do not think my sorry is acceptable. My car has hit the wall. It is beyond repair in this regard. And that is why I thank her. I know when she comes back, she better slap me. I saw her chatterbox comments. God knows she doesn't even care whether or not this blog exists. I think she knows of it, but why visit this blog?

But deep inside, I have cut her by making her perceive I was all that, all prepared, all good.

As a man, I say...it is my fault. It was her call. I did not dial the number.

I felt the emotion, I bought the feeling, I drove to a fast end.

Thank you for keeping this friendship afloat. I am trying to make it up to you.

END of TRANSMISSION

I won't make the same mistake again, I told Celine. I've given burdens to women, my dear friends by making them worry if were alright or if I were good. To clarify things: I AM SO OKAY...NEVER BEEN BETTER.

I will not hit the wall again, I won't even talk about it. Whatever I feel inside, I'd reveal in the proper time and place.

Kaming mga torpe, all we could do is wish our girl friends the best, kahit masakit.

I reflect and wish the best for Marian, Arianne, Pau, Rania, Grai, Celine, Karen, April, sila Gayle, Tin, Tin2, Jessa, Bads, and Farrah (dami pa e, UP pa lang yan..ganyan ka-lonely ang mundo hahaha). Kidding aside, I even dream about them findng their match. Celine, aminin =) Mau, meron ka na uhum.

At kina Jason, Kristian, Dom (uhum), Ferdie, Neil, Jess at kahit ka na Torvix.

I wish you all that. That comes for free.

DI AKO MARTYR , NAGPAPAKA_MARTYR pa nga ....(with tears) AHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHA! JOKE, I AM HAPPY AND DAPPY SO LIKE ME!

NO Marian. NO Celine. I am not beating a new heart. I am not thinking of a new lady. I have dismissed the thought for sometime now. I will not allow my foolish desire get in the way of more important matters and people. Even if it means I have to pass this chance up because of circumstance. I will.

I have a fervent belief that if God intends for you two become one, He will allow it. And you will have to make that choice.

I have chosen to make a stand. A concrete wall to carefully collide with other cars out of control. This time, I'd be careful. That was my path at one time. Whay????

Is it because I'm redirecting my wishful thoughts?

I'd like to think of it as another of my better habits...this time...not on the highway, but the bi-ways of life...of the heart.


God fill your hearts will contentment, I am desperately trying to have.