#PrayForParis

Shoutout to the peepz at the Facebook page on my desktop monitor! You guys rock!

I am not good with words,

So forgive me for being too silent.

Thoughts that I have

About me

About you

About how things ought to be,

I’ve been meaning to say.

If not for the fear of you catching

The tremble in my voice

Each time I say your name.

But somehow, someway

I know I have to take a chance;

Before this day is done

Let me say my piece

And my heart can be at peace.

Tonight,

While the world fades to sleep

Let me drive you home,

So we can be alone,

Even for just a little while

Before we go back to the reality of our lives

Be with me and listen

For I may not have this chance again.

Be it under the moonlight or under a storm

My precious, please-

Let me drive you home

For a little while this space has been my favorite confidante. It has given me a place to share my most intimate thoughts, my most personal views. I have relied on it to get me through the days when I am teeming with the excitement, the inspiration, the passion that I have for this modern-day TV fairy tale. It’s been quite interesting, to say the least. The blog has now been visited more than half a million times. No tags, no keywords, and never monetized.

But I will never take credit for something that is not my sole doing. If not for the phenomenon that is Aldub, the traffic to the site would have been as clear as an old town dirt road. The most brilliant writers all over the world can write the best literary pieces known to men, but without the right subject and the right audience they will remain obscure, indistinct.

After Tamang Panahon I realized that I have been stuck on a chapter’s end for a bit too long. To see what lies ahead, to know how my own story will progress along, I felt the need to finally turn the page over. So I busied myself with things I normally got myself busy with before my madness- studying, competition shooting, HTPC building, Islands of Adventure- Orlando, Netflix, Xbox One, Steam. That’s a lotta stuff to be excited about, right?

Wrong.

I find myself each and every night staring at my blank laptop screen. It has become a burden trying to find the words I need to articulate what I want to say. Every letter seems out of place, every sentence incongruous, every line is losing all meaning. It is not for a lack of insights nor of thoughts. I have so much inside that I am dying to tell the world- but woefully I no longer seem to know how to get them down into words.

Then I regress back into watching replays of Kalyeserye.

Maybe I am melodramatic, but even though I find these episodes a bit cyclic and more deliberate I still find myself captivated. I laugh, I smile, I tear up every once in a while. It does not help that Alden seems to be showing real sincerity nowadays, the big change screaming the evident reversal of character between him and Maine. And it does not help that Meng has bloomed a whole lot since! Can I make it any more obvious?

Oh well.

I know someday I can get over you guys. Today may not be the day, but someday.

Balang araw, magbabalik-tanaw ako sa mga sandaling ako’y inyong napaluha at ako’y mapapangiti. Balang araw, magbabalik-tanaw ako sa mga sandaling ako’y inyong napangiti at ako’y mapapaluha.

But right now, I just can’t.

I give up.

I give in. ~ Vilo

The more you flaunt your creepy masks, the more you un-mask your true ipseity- self-righteous, hypocritical, disorganized anarchists!

You claimed responsibility for the first act then absolve yourself from the copycats that it spurred? You are quick to find excuses now that everybody knows you have no control over your ranks?

Excuse me, but your apology is as pathetic as your self-defined ethics! ~ Vilo

Now that Ang Tamang Panahon has come and gone I have decided to impart one last message for you Ms. Maine Mendoza.

First and foremost, I tip my hat to Eat Bulaga and its production team for that epic glorification of your professional, social and, in a lot of sense, personal relationship with Alden. I will never forget how it affected me emotionally and spiritually. I did fail my poor heart, like I tweeted. Alden has mastered the performance that will make even the hardest of hearts mellow and you, the genial, jovial, silly you- never fails to amaze. I still have goosebumps just thinking about all that came to pass and I still marvel at the thought of how thousands of people in the arena as well as millions of people around the world were able to witness as grand a gala as Ang Tamang Panahon. Poets will fashion ballads, minstrels will sing songs, writers will write stories, and raconteurs will tell tales for hundreds of years. They will remember your names. They will remember your story. They will remember that day.

But as much as it was a celebration of the whole show, it was more of a tribute for you. The story of your life was bared in a way that made us the spectators realize that as much as we think we know almost everything about you, we are still practically begging for more of you. Alden was there to fill in a very important part- to complete you, to guide you in the journey towards your place in history, where you are fatefully ordained to be. His role in all these made everything right- because it also tells a story about him, who he is, what he is about and how he has become the quintessential archetype of how a true gentleman is supposed to conduct himself. The chivalry, the gallantry, the romantic valiance that is imbued in that young man’s heart is ostensive, genuine, pure.

Hold on to Alden, Ms. Maine. He will take you to places you never knew you’d see!

So, back to where I was.

I have been writing pieces of thoughts these past few weeks. I purposely remained semi-anonymous, not because I have something in my personal life that I have to hide but because I find no real benefit in revealing my real self- none for me nor for my readers. I am not a writer. I never was, I never wanted to be. It is not my bread and butter nor will it give me the financial rewards I need to sustain my real life. This web space will remain here and outlive me. I can just disappear and leave all these behind because nothing and no one can hold back the faceless me.I am not seeking the attention from you or from anybody else, I just write with the hope that those who are able to read them, hopefully including you, will remember this little nook of a blog, when all of these things have already passed.

So believe me when I say I am not at all surprised that you haven’t really noticed these musings of a forlorn stranger. As one of the obscure and nameless members of the greatest fandom this Filipino generation has ever seen, I write in behalf of myself, and all the others who find it in their hearts to understand, connect to, and relate with what I am about to say.

If you do get to read all of these in the future, you might observe how I try too hard at delving into Richard’s psyche to get my message across. Not this time, though. But there is a reason to my methods- because there is a little bit of Alden Richards inside each one of us, your faithful followers.

Like Alden, you were revealed to all of us in the most fortuitous of circumstances. Like Alden, we fed our interest in you, in what you do, in who you are. Like Alden, we watched you grow in beauty and saw your delightful transformations. We were all enchanted by your innocence, your simplicity and stood in awe of your creative complexity.

We were there when you smiled. We were there when you laughed. We were there when you cried. We were there when you gaffed. Where Alden was, we were. What Alden saw, we saw. How Alden felt, we felt. And over time we realized that more than just a pretty face, you are, without a doubt, a truly beautiful soul.

So, whenever I write about the emotion that Alden was supposed to be feeling, whenever I write about the thought that Alden is supposed to be thinking, whenever I write about an act that Alden is supposed to be doing- I am actually writing about all things me. I am actually writing about all things we, your fans, are going through everyday.

Because like Alden, we fell in love with you, Ms. Maine. We fell madly in love with you. ~ Vilo

Meng,

Dumating na Ang Tamang Panahon.

Tisoy has been waiting for this day. He woke up with the early morning sun wiggling through the middle crack in the window curtain. It was a dreamless sleep, and for the first time in a long time, he felt a sense of giddy enthusiasm. He saw his reflection on the mirror against the wall- a bright smiling face, in the still-dark room. “Wish I may”, he whispered to himself. The melody played out in his head. The words unable to escape his thoughts:

“Wish that I could say these words tonight,
Wish I have the courage, wish I might;
Have the chance to show you, speak what’s on my mind,
While you’re right next to me, I’ve loved you from the start.”

Words can never express what he wants to say to you, Meng, but they have to make do because they are all that he has. He can no longer count the times he tried to stop himself from just picking up the phone, dial your number and tell you how much you really meant to him.

He never knew you would ensnare his hardened heart. He has kept it hidden, buried under his numbed up reticence, his self-imposed restraint. He tried to dispense with what he was feeling and told himself it was just an infatuation, ephemeral, fleeting- you would never have what it takes to make him fall!

But he was wrong. Dead wrong.

Because the longer this thing went on, the more he felt that he truly did care. He just wishes he had the courage to accept the realization that what he was looking for was right there all this time, across that screen, where his kisses bore witness to the longings of his heart.

And yes, he really does miss you. Sometimes he wishes he was with you every time you go to bed- to watch you fall asleep, to gently kiss you goodnight. He melts at the sound of your voice. He finds himself weeping at random little things as silly as a simple thought of you. He dreams of you! Not about you, but about him and you, together, holding hands on the beach, watching the sunset, silhouettes fading into the night.

He has found his place in the world, Meng. Right there, by your side.

He doesn’t really know what he did in his life to deserve you. Maybe the Lolas are fairy godmothers after all and you are his one sweet granted wish- the miracle he’s been waiting for all his life. He has never been so stoked as he is right now knowing from this moment on he will have more time to be with you everyday- to sing sweet love songs together, to laugh together, to listen to your stories, to hold you close.

The wide-eyed gaze, the sheepish, shy smile, the really cute way you tried to hide your delight. That was the start of something wonderful for him and you. He was just sitting there, waiting for something, anything. Then came you, the unexpected you- with your eyes glowing, your pretty little face blushing. That’s when he realized he has truly fallen in love.

Not along the way. Not just today.

But right from the start.

Exactly 100 days ago. ~ Vilo

Who says you’re not perfect?

There will always be people that find fulfillment in pointing out the faults of others. They thrive in the idea that they know better. Where the truly great stumbled, there they lounge and pat themselves on the back. Where the talented and skillful flopped, there they bask in the hubristic admiration of themselves, proud of their exceptional wisdom to have seen what others failed to see all the while.

Faultfinders. They call themselves critics. The few that have never even risked out to get their feet wet but whine endlessly about the rain.

Well, they don’t matter.

You have proven, beyond all doubt, that you belong up there. All glory belongs to the player, not the spectator. Your doubts and uncertainties are all part of your greatness- they do not deter you, they encourage you to be better at everything you do! Your failures- they propel you to carry on and persist in the fight to make all your dreams come true!

Because after all is said and done, it was all you. Where they did not have the guts for, you charged in. Where they did not have the nerves to venture into, you dared.

Way to go, Meng. ~ Vilo

He first saw her one beautiful day in July. She was being her usual self- silly, giddy, childish. He’s been watching her for sometime, but never really that close. He could never understand why she caught his eye. Maybe she was just too pretty to look at. Maybe there was something that made her stood out in that crowd. Or maybe he was alone and lonely for far too long.

His gaze lingered a bit too much, he realized, because the next thing he knew, she was looking right back at him. With those big brown eyes, she was staring right through him. He could’ve sworn there’s something utterly captivating about her- hypnotic, astounding, mystifying. Whatever it was, he was drawn to her like sunset on the water, like dandelions on the wind.

But he was not ready. Not yet.

The fascination is a bit too quick it’s reckless. He of all people should know this. Experience is a ruthless teacher- it does not forgive, it does not falter. His lost youth is a testimony to the menace of a hurried passion. He was too quick to love but too slow to let go. He dallied too long and missed his chance to make proud the one that he most cared about. So this time around, he will take his time. Too much is at stake, he can never be too careless. The pursuit to his calling comes first and all others must line up and wait.

Or so he thought.

¬————

It was business as usual for her on that fateful day. A couple of weeks ago, she was just another wandering soul- optimistic about new beginnings but fearful of the all too familiar endings. If only prequels can be relived, but no, the past has fashioned her into what she has become today and there is no turning back. So far, life has been sunny- at least for the most part. There always were some growing pains: friendships, puberty, heartbreaks; yeah, growing pains.

But indeed, she is a free spirit.

Life has taught her to take risks, to inspire and be inspired. She personifies Princess Jasmine- spontaneous, sure of herself, born with a silver spoon but enjoys the simplest of things. She embraces authenticity, secured in her thoughts and very comfortable in her skin. Her creativity knows no bounds. She can make it on her own, no doubt, and now she is chasing that ultimate dream beyond her fifteen minutes of fame. She is on her way towards immortality.

And like Jasmine, she found her Alladin- the guy with the big dreams- while disguised as a peasant. Kismet! Destiny found its way into her heart. She lost track of what she was or where she’s at the moment she realized he was right there, peering, staring, acknowledging her very presence. And before it was over and done, she felt herself letting her guard down and embracing the reality of what was to come. She was so sure it was going to be the start of a beautiful thing.

Or so she thought.

————

He is now basking in the limelight. The big dream is finally real!

The crowd cheers for him, screams his name, and the sound is music to his very soul. This is what it’s all about right here, the realization of dreams he worked so hard for all these years. He keeps himself busy with what matter the most in the grand scheme of things. Strike while the iron is hot, they say. Someday all of these will come to an end, but when that time comes he will have proven to the world that he triumphed. At the end of each day, he reminisces on the sweetness that fate has now offered him- oh if only his Mom was there to celebrate this blissful life with.

This was her dream for him. This was what got away when he chose heart over reason. He must not commit the same mistake again!

Because this right here is his second chance, and oh how sweet second chances are for him. So he is going to enjoy every minute, every second of it. He has come this far he can’t stop now! All of his life’s adversities, all of his burdens, this is his ultimate reward. He deserves all these, and more!

Yet in the wee hours of the morning, when he readies himself to sleep, when he lies down to marvel about all of the things that made his day, he finds himself pondering: “Why does the room still feel so empty? Why is the other side of the bed so agonizingly lonely?”

————

His absence does not shake her resolve. She has grown familiar with his ways, so now she will not expect. She found herself just trying to enjoy the moment. There were times when he looked so sincere that she assumed too much, only to be woken up to the realization the next day that not everything is what it really seemed. But he does seem pretty nice these past few days, she can feel the odd change in him. “What are you trying to say?”, she thought. Still, its better to stay on guard. Her heart is now too fragile- she doesn’t know if she can handle heartbreaks anymore.

Because everything is still very surreal. She cannot but be amazed at how she got to the top too quick. Luck of the draw? Millions of people all over the world would kill and die to be in her position. Millions of people all over the world worked so hard, spent too much and sacrificed practically their way of lives and still fell short to get to where she’s at right now.

Her life was already a joy before all these but she can’t complain for wasn’t this her secret ultimate dream? Fame comes at a steep price: under the bright lights is a feisty woman, trying too hard to appear tough, headstrong, resilient but beyond the dazzles is a young girl once free now captive in the standards that she is expected to sustain. The pessimist in her is slowly creeping up again. But she knows she will survive.

The distinction between the real and the reel is now a haze. “Are you really interested in me, or are you just interested in what I can do for you?” This is a perennial question. She dreads the thought. She is not like this! Once upon a time, she gives her trust openly and freely. Now, everybody is all praise- but who are sincere and who are merely patronizing? Oh how lonely fame can be.

Yes fame, she thought. Funny how people crave for it in the beginning, dread it halfway there, then long for it again in the end.

She longs for the time when she can just go away, be lost in humanity. She misses her friends, her family. She has long lost her privacy. She might have even already lost herself.

————

From the Author: Every now and then, as we struggle through the humdrum of ordinary existence, life throws us a fairy tale.

Will there be a happy ever after? Maybe.

So, stay tuned. ~ Vilo

Game Night!  

Ole Miss Rebels @ Florida Gators