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Sunbaked: 2011 Year in Blogging

I started the year with a lamentation on how dreary my blog has become. I have come a long way from the desolate landscape that once defined The Sunbaked King. Twelve months and 100 entries later, here I am, taking stock of all the thoughts that went through my head, traversed their way down to my fingers, and ended up in the screen in front of me. Let’s take a trip down memory lane, shall we?

January 2011,  ”Rhymists and Kerykes”

The Oracle had disclosed the name of the maiden to Hermes, and revealed the beauty that had set his heart aflame– but She had not allowed him to see their future. Not even the wings on his sandals could outpace the speed at which the sufferings were to come. Not even he, Hermes, keryx to the gods, could escape the maneuverings of a Muse.

February 2011, “White Horse”

A blanket of tense silence descended upon the crowd. When the music banished the silence and the star came out, we went wild. She was dazzling.

March 2011, “Return of the Other”

I’m back, you bitches.

April 2011, “A Lawyer on the Way”

I once wrote a short story using a twisted Little Red Riding Hood as my main character. I had my brother read it. At that time, I always let (forced) my brother to read my writings and play my games. I never really expected him to like any of it. But that story captured his imagination so much that he cited it as one of his most favorite short stories EVAH. It brings tears to my eyes to know that I influenced my brother into taking up writing and being the success that he currently is. Wait– what’s that little bro? No, no, no– thank YOU.

May 2011, “An Open Letter to the Sea”

You were just as lovely as the first time I set foot on your shores. As your swell made its way to my bare feet, I recalled how, once upon a November, a boy stood at this very spot, wishing that someone was beside him to share your solemn space.

June 2011, “125″

The old Fitness First philosophy no longer works. “Motivation gets you started, habit keeps you going” no longer cuts the fat from 145 to 125. What I need is something more interesting, something more unique. And so I come up with my new gym mantra: geisha. The ability to arrest people with a single glance. That should do the trick.

July 2011, “Memories of a Single Guy”

“Loneliness is a state best indulged in the rain. It makes perfect sense: the only other people you’ll see on the street are those bearing the same cross you’re bearing. The fact that you’re so few and far apart is a perfect manifestation of your loneliness, and it suits you just fine. No one to take your hand. No one to pull you close. Only the rain’s weight to comfort you. Only the rain’s beat to be your guide.”

August 2011, “Siem Reap Stories”

Was it the promise of a sunset? Was it the allure of the architecture? Whatever brought us here knew what our hearts’ desires were. Yes, we were strangers in a foreign land, but not once did we feel lost. Siem Reap had taken us in, made us her own. We had become children of the bloodshed that once plagued the land.

September 2011, “Duality”

The duality of the date did not escape me. For four years this day only reminded me of the single most painful heartbreak of my life. But the universe, ever so humorous, ever so fair, decides that four years is enough. What once was cause for depression is now a cause for celebration.

October 2011, “K+R”

We live in a world where people no longer believe in second chances. Pain has immunized us; heartbreaks have taught us to stay away. But at that moment, a few minutes shy of the 25th, with one of the happiest places on Earth as our backdrop, I did what everyone thought I shouldn’t be doing: I took a chance with you.

November 2011, “Music and Melancholia”

“You only hear the music when your heart begins to break.” It was one of the saddest lines I have ever read. If only things had not happened the way they did. If only hearts were spared the heartaches.

December 2011, “For He’s A Jolly Good Fellow”

And so I leave it all to Fate. I have done the best I can. It’s time to let go now.

(Makmak, thanks for letting me use this style. ^_^)

Fireworks: A 2010 Yearend Entry

In 2001, the mayor of Davao City declared the entire metropolis a no-firecracker no-fireworks zone. In the aftermath of that pronouncement, the city fell silent almost overnight. I did not mind the silence; in fact, I embraced it. I feared those sulfur-laden receptacles of destruction and despair. The din they caused did not drive away the spirits, but drove me to hide behind the nearest sturdiest furniture, instead.

The quiet has descended on the city for a decade now, and the celebrations have been mostly serene for ten years. At one point during the past decade, however, I decided, for the first time in my life, to spend the holidays in Manila with my younger brother. And it was during that break in 2006 that I discovered what I was missing.

Fireworks.

A few minutes before midnight, my brother and I went up the rooftop to witness the spectacle. As bursts of color and flashes of light spread across the night sky, we found ourselves transported back to our childhood, back to that time when the smallest show of brilliance made our hearts jump with glee. We stood, awestruck, at the presence of reds, blues, and greens; at comets, crossettes, and chrysanthemums. If we held hands that time, as innocent kids do, then the scenery would have been picture-perfect.

Fireworks are magic. Unlike firecrackers, they showcase color and light, not sound. They do not serve to shock and scare, but to stun you into mesmerized silence. While the solemn celebrations in Davao have become quite therapeutic, the dazzling display of fire in the sky is a cathartic event in itself. There is nothing like the show before us to expunge ourselves of the negativity of the year that has passed.

In 2010, there have been too many firecrackers and too few fireworks. I started the blogging year with a bang and found myself ending it with a whimper. The promise of a spectacle vanished as careerism and emotional turmoil took over. It wasn’t an easy year to deal with– I got burned in more ways than one– and this could not be more apparent than the empty digital slate that you see before you. I choked, and the words died alongside everything else.

Hence:

This yearend, there will be no elaborate yearend entries. No music lists, no movie reviews, no retrospective look at the year that was. No glossy slideshows and no glistening mosaics, either. Perhaps by keeping it simple, the scenery will eventually become more spectacular, the fireworks eventually more stunning.

Now all I need is that one little spark.

When Blogs Take Flight

When I was in high school, I juggled mathematics and writing effortlessly. I solved some algebra questions in the evenings and in between classes, while on weekends, I sat in front of my Windows 95-powered PC and created– feverishly, fervently– my next literary masterpiece. Those days, writing never felt like a chore. Sure, I discarded more stories than I could care to count, but my resolve never wavered. When one short story felt a bit too much for me to take, I took a break (or solved that trigonometric exercise that I’ve been itching to get my hands on). Then I moved on.

It seemed like I had to choose between two great loves when I stepped into college. The choice was an easy one eventually– my contract with my high school dictated that I choose BS Mathematics over BS English Literature. Good thing Ateneo loves its English as much as it loves its Mathematics; I never found myself wanting. While taking up a mathematics course forced me to accept the bitter fact that I’m not all that when it came to the realm of numbers, it also provided me with the realization that I could actually commit to this writing gig, after all. There was a wonderfully positive chance of me not sucking.

Welcome to The Sunbaked King 3.0.

And for the most part, I didn’t. Thanks to some very talented professors and the multitude of avenues in which I could write, I was able to hone my “craft.” The experience was mind-draining, but invigorating; challenging, but exhilarating; humbling, but ultimately fulfilling. Since that time, I have made people laugh. Since that time, I have made people cry. The power of words can truly be great when written down (or in this case, typed) with a focused mind and a sincere heart.

My high school and college years have already passed me by. I no longer solve algebra questions in the evenings and in between classes– I no longer have classes to speak of, and the only solving I do happens in Excel spreadsheets. I no longer sit in front of my Windows 95-powered PC to type my next literary masterpiece– I now own a Vista-powered laptop, and my short story and soap opera-writing days are already behind me. I no longer have professors to teach me the way. I no longer have the multitude of avenues I once had at my disposal. Slowly, my two great loves took a back seat to the necessities of corporate living. Surely, the need to solve and the need to write got replaced with the need to pay the rent and the need to watch my weight.

But beneath the noise and clamor of deadlines and duties, there’s a hunger that wants to be fed.

Blogging has provided sustenance during all these years when I no longer think of myself as a student. When all the lessons of the academe have apparently slipped away, all that’s left with me is my passion for writing and this nifty little site called WordPress. When I think long and hard about it, it seems like these are enough. When stripped down to its barest essentials, these are the only things I need for this blog to take flight.

Welcome to The Sunbaked King 3.0, people. May you find sunshine in every bite.