FEDERER and the Essence of LOSING

When you're down and out, you just want to get pumped up and leer towards potential sources of inspiration – in any possible place where you can find it – and I mean EVERYTHING – from your favorite childhood fictional character to your mom or dad or to your ultimate crush or lover.

Looking unto this, after a series of consecutive working days, I found myself going home without any hint of expedient provenance of enthusiasm. As I gander across the television, the world seems to recapitulate itself towards a vicious cycle of work and depression. Although the latter seems to maximize most of this revolutionary existentialism.

Then somehow, in a weird twist of fate, something struck me rather haltingly – WHAT THE F*CK! This would not be another one of those repressive nights where I attempt to dupe myself with alcohol or sex and the city DVD reruns. I need to overturn another series of my manic-depressive mood disorders.

I panicked. I choked. I recovered.

One thought. One person. One legend.

Name – ROGER FEDERER. A source of inspiration. Always been.

Having 16 grand slam titles under his belt, he is hailed as the greatest tennis player in history after breaking all records and vanquish achievements previously set by Pete Sampras and Bjorn Borg. Although he is currently ranked at no. 3, I reckon that this is his way on being modest on giving Nadal and Djokovic the chance to experience the top spot. Ooops! I just heard a series of scream from die-hard Nadal and Djokovic fans. Sorry. Kanya-kanya lang po yan!

But nonetheless, much more than his well-documented elegance and exquisite form on court (those backhand and service stance!), it is his demeanor and disposition off court which never fails to enthrall me. It is not confounding then that he is well-liked in every tournament and grand slam events. But in a larger scale, he is also revered for his exemplary contributions not only to his native Switzerland but also to his support to charitable and humanitarian events.

But what else is so endearing to Federer? The answer – I dont know. Maybe those hairy chest or those unusually large aquiline nose. Maybe the fact that he is damn good and knows how to hold his nerves under pressure.

Or maybe.. because he is capable of LOSING. Just like any other tennis player. Just like any of us. Just like you or me. He's not a demi-god.

He fails on some matches. But he proves again and again that he is still capable of producing marvellous and flawless tennis. He could still reign in Wimbledon or the tennis world at that matter.

I AM A LOSER. It took me a while to accept this. But I know I am. But I am also certain that I needed to stand up. I needed to brave the crucifying crowd in my midst and to rise above adversity.

I AM A LOSER. And somehow I am proud because life is continuous series of learning and taking risks. What breaks you makes you stronger.

I FELL. I STUMBLED. I CRASHED. I STAND ONCE MORE. ALWAYS ONCE MORE.

MR O .. THANKS FOR RUINING MY LIFE!

I gave up a good life for you.

I lost my good reputation

My friends have turn their backs

And the rest of the world have lost its faith on me.

I did not adhere to people's voice,

coz my heart speaks louder than anyone else's.

But you broke my trust.

I wasn't enough for you.

You were busy looking for something else.

I was disheartened like any rational man would.

Then, it happened.

I broke it off.

My mind overruled.

But you started to denigrate.

You told me I was your biggest failure.

And your regret was the sole fact

That you have met me at all..

Less than a week was at all it took.

To have your heart turned into charcoal.

So don't you dare say that I messed up your life.

Coz you have no idea what Im going through now.

And that everywhere, people have been lambasting me with gossips and defamations..

I moved out and found myself in the lowest of the low – apart from everyone

Apart from my family and the people I truly care about.

So think twice, Mr O....

Coz in reality mister, you ruined my life!

Let me say this out loud! F*CK YOU!

RIGODON sa LONDON ...

Disclaimer: This was written not to offend anyone. What I wrote here was purely based on observations and was a product of my sheer melancholic tendencies. I'm no angel. Actually, I'm the complete opposite. Open your mind, people.

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Sa bawat araw na lumilipas, walang kahit na mumunting buhay o sigla ang mababanaagan sa aking katauhan. WALANG INSPIRASYON. Ang bawat araw ay hindi naiiba mula sa kahapon. At ang kahapon ay magsisimula at magtatapos kahalintulad ng magaganap sa kinabukasan.

Magsisimula ang araw na papasok sa ospital, magtatatrabaho, kakain, at makikisalamuha sa mga katulong sa industriya ng panangalaga sa mga may pinakakritikal na karamdaman sa aming pagamutan. Kailangan suotin sa lahat ng panahon ang huwad na mga ngiti dahil hindi maaaring mabanaagan ng kahit ninuman ang bigat ng aking mga dalahin. Sa kabila nito, kailangan magpatuloy ang buhay. Kailangan mag-impok at itaguyod ang sarili. Kahit wala ng pag-asang namumuo sa aking puso at isipan, wala din naman ibang patutunguhan kung isaisantabi ko na lamang ang aking propesyon dulot ng malalim at sadyang mapanubok na pinagdadaanan.

Ano nga ba ang naghihintay sa kinabukasan – kung ang bawat bukas ay tulad ng ngayon, at hindi rin naman naiiba sa kahapon?

Sa maliit na mundong ginagalawan ng mga Pilipino sa Inglatera, mapait na katotohanan na palasak na lamang ang pagkakasiraan ng bawat magandang pagtitinginan – bawat relasyon ay nauuwi sa hiwalayan at bawat hiwalayan ay nagdudulot ng mapait na karanasan. Tila nagkakaroon ng “Rigodon” ang bawat Pilipino sa nagaganap na pagpapalitan ng kasintahan. Ang sa iyo ngayon ay akin bukas. At ang akin ngayon ay maaaring nasa piling na ng iba bukas. Sa kapaligiran na malayo sa mga pinakamalalapit na kapamilya, ang bawat isa ay naghahanap ng pagkalinga, pagmamahal at pagtanggap mula sa isa't isa.

Rigodon – isang sayaw na ipanasa sa atin ng mga Kastila kung saan ang bawat isa ay nagpapalit palit ng kapareha. Ang bawat mananayaw ay magkakaroon ng pagkakataon na makasayaw ang iba pang mananayaw. Kahalintulad ng sayaw na ito ang mga kalidad ng relasyon dito sa London. Nakakagulat na lamang na ang iyong kakilala na si Juan ay dating kasintahan ni Pedro, at si Pedro ay kasalukuyang kasintahan ni Pablo, na dati rin naman kasintahan ni Juan...

NAKAKAKALITO .. NAKAKALOKO... NAKAKAPANLUMO..

Pagod na ako sa mga laro.. Pagod na ako sa Rigodon.. Pagod na ako sa mga panunutya at panghuhusga.. Mas mainam pa nga siguro ang mag-isa. Walang kumplikasyon. Walang pananagutan.. --- Wala nga lang din tunay na kasiyahan at kaganapan ang buhay..

NAKAKAPAGOD NA..

Kaya kung gusto mo pa, sige makisayaw lang.. Hanggang sa sumakit ang iyong mga paa.. At madapa sa mga panganib ng rigodon...

HANGGANG KAILAN KAYA..

ALONE AND OUT

I am now shedding a thousand tears,

But I know I made you weep for like a million years...

I kept on grumbling about the pain,

But it was me who have hurt you in vain..

Sorry and atonement would never be enough,

For all the indecisions based in gruff..

Encumbrance might have made you tough,

But my insolence have made your life rough...

Thankfulness should have been my retaliation,

For your love which have never gone into stagnation...

But what I gave were fallout of my aberrations,

Now everyone's giving their best shot on sending me to condemnation...

Try as I may but I could never go back,

What we have is on a wrack..

Alone, alone and alone,

Its the best three words from here and on...

Book Review: Eat, Pray and Love by Elizabeth Gilbert

For the past few weeks, books have been my only confidante, my best friend and my soulmate. Amidst the chaotic ramblings of my mind, they have offered a sense of companionship no other man can offer. They have been non-judgmental despite my shortcomings and misdemeanors. They stayed with me through every tube journeys, drudging night shifts in the hospital, and moments of occasional psychosis. These manuscripts have been a source of inspiration and in the vein, it has kept my sanity intact. Without which, I might have lost it altogether. Uncunningly, every trip to the bookstore has proved worthwhile. The smell of a new book thrills me like a young child awaiting to get his balloon after a Sunday Mass. It has taken me to new heights – away from everyone. I felt safe again – under every letter from A to Z of every book's hologram.

Eat, Pray and Love has started this addiction. Serving as a platform for the Julia Robert's movie, I am a fan of anything that tackles the subject of self-discovery or go-isolate-and-f*ck-yourself-until-you-know-what-you-want kind of story. The book has outshined the actual Hollywood movie. The tongue-in-cheek details of the E. Gilbert's life story never fails to enthrall and fascinate the avid reader. After a few pages, I began to regard it as a travel blog and love story merged into one. Towards the middle, I found myself humming words like “Attraversiamo” which translates “Let's cross over” in Italian. I was mumbling these foreign phrases whilst I was in the tube that other passengers might have thought that a severely attention-seeking psychopath was in their midst. I couldn't care less. I couldn't care any lesser. After all, I was transcended into another world – the author's that is – a world of infinite realm of possibilities in the phase of travelling in deep thought and realization.

By the end of it, she lets herself get carried away by her older but wiser Brazilian lover. She hesitated for one moment but helplessly conceded in the process. She adhered to her heart's desire. She gave in to love. I acquise to her compelling life-changing decision. And so will I. Then there's only one thing to do – Attraversiamo... Let's cross over!

27, 28, 29, TURKEY!

2am and amidst the equanimity of my Rhodes hotel room, this entry is being woven into shape with ingenuous details and an extra push of Turkish delights. Having just sailed off from an hour and ten minutes ferry (Catamaran as they call it here!) ride from Marmaris to Rhodes, it is safe to assume that I will be dead tired as of this time from strolling around the southwestern-most point of Turkey. But nope, I'm wide awake as an angry bird raring to destroy multiple blocks to the very core and much to the amusement and addiction of its iphone user (where did that come from?!?!?).

Enough being said, Turkey is not exactly assonant to its Greek neighbor. Although my first instinct would tell me otherwise in regard to its proximity between the two Mediterranean countries, I began regarding Marmaris (or Turkey for that matter, sorry for the generalization) solely as a tourist hub for impervious and express holidays. Every corner resonates typical British holidays – enjoying the sun and not withstanding anything else. I reckon that more square meters had been allocated to self-catering villas and two and three star hotels in contrast with local houses and establishments. Not that I have an aversion to this apartments but it simply overshadowed the supposed Turkish charm that I was expecting to unravel at that point in time.

Nothing was sort of spectacular. It would have been a welcome change to see a coalesce of Moorish and Modern Architecture but instead I was greeted by the Marmaris Castle who looks more like an abandoned crack house rather than a prime tourist attraction. It was more of a viewing deck of the Marmaris harbor rather than a historical site. That 3 euros entrance fee was definitely not justifiable. To add insult to injury, the guy in the tourist information center totally snubbed me when I was inside in my attempt to ask for directions to the castle. He was deeply submerged into a telephone conversation. Nothing else mattered. It felt like I was wearing Harry Potter's cloak – invisible.

The bazaar was also synonymous to Turkey's despairing inuendo to save their ailing economy. Pushy sellers will rub you of any feasible euros/Turkish Liras (TL) – down to its last bit. A typical turkish lamp, for instance, will initially sell at 65 TL where in fact you could grab them at 40 TL or even less (my bargaining skills worked somehow). The bazaar and hundreds of restaurants resonates a Turkish desert and character – destitute and empty. But then again, I have never been to Istanbul or Ankra so this might just be an early and unfledged judgment.

I never, for one second, ascertained that I was in a safe place. The glances and accession of every local dweller will put Bin Laden's forces to shame. I was branded and called a “Jackie Chan of Marmaris” or greeted “Ni Hao” by merchants and residents alike. Evidently, Asians seldomly sojourned the place. Quite unsurprisingly, I found a sense of isolation and desolation in no time and I was hasting to go to back to Greece – where a more welcoming hand awaits me.

Overall, Turkey fails to deliver to the discerning tourist. And if I have ever been asked if I wanted to go back to Turkey, let's just say that I will just buy those lovely Turkish delights elsewhere in Mediterannean shops in London. In that case, I never really needed to waste 3 hours flying time – harsh but ardently true.

Rhodes: Mia Thési̱ Ston Ilio (A Place in the Sun)

When I think of Greece, I only think of two places to go: Athens and Santorini. Athens, being the capital will surely enamour every traveller with its ancient monuments and traditions. Having been known as a melting pot of civilization, it will satisfy anyone's penchant for Greek Mythology or anything Greek for that matter – from Greek food (the eat-until-you-feel-like-vomitting experience) to Greek luxury package holidays (read:all inclusive) to Greek “sizzling hot” men/women with aquiline noses and bodies that will surely guarantee not just a second but a third look.

On the other hand, Santorini is famed for its picturesque views that are jaw-dropping (Tagalog term: tulo-laway). Notable as the location for the Filipino movie “For the First Time” (yep, I watched this and im definitely jologs!), everyone who realized that I'm heading to Greece felt thwarted that I'm not goin' to Santorini (my twitter account can testify to this!).

Why Rhodes then? Well, I just came across the website at onthebeach.co.uk which really offered all-inclusive cheap holidays abroad and they suggested Rhodes. Being tired of city tours, I opted for a real vacation without the pressures of having to roam around the city with your limited time schedule. So like a lottery-type overturn of fortunes, Rhodes seemed to be reasonable and enticing enough to be the next leisure loco-motion. Unsurprisingly, they said its a second-rate island holiday for anyone who can't afford the more renown island of Santorini.

I despise this.

It exceeded my expectations. First, the Greek foods are to die for. I'm telling you that I absolutely hated vegetables or anythin healthy for that matter. But Greek foods are the only exception - just don't take off the feta cheese. In addition, gluttony is the name of the game with all-inclusive holidays where you get buffet meals three times a day (not to mention unlimited drinks/snacks/cocktails/booze).

And whoever thought that Asian hospitality is the best seriously needs to re-learn what that word really meant. Those smiles and welcoming/assisting hands are definitely not simulated. Add together the fact that they're down-to-earth good-looking (I hate people who know they're attractive and flaunt it!), it's a win-win situation.

Lastly, the combination of the Old Town's charm and New Town's ultramodern twist will give you that feel-good impression that will leave you coming back every afternoon for more (just hanging around the old-town plaza is gratifying in an unexplainable kind of way). In line with this, this place is just a hop, skip and ride away from all the great beaches and nearby islands (did I mention that I'm going to see Turkey tom?!?)

In the vein, this unassuming island ticks all the right boxes. Currently, I'm just writing this blog in the patio of our hotel room with great views of the mountain and the seaside, relaxing at 11pm with the most ideal weather you could ever imagine. There was an old emblem which states “The Glory that was Greece”. And then it hit me, whoever quoted this would have been in the same exact position that I am.