Entry Number One

I have been on the lookout everyday, for three days now, for special moments that I can write about. Those moments have not been elusive but rather my ability to seize those moments on camera is what elusively slips every time from my mind.

Like yesterday in another so and so drinking session at Rap’s house: It was a reunion of that alternative band that never took off no thanks to me, the disgruntled guitarist wannabe bassist who never showed up for concert auditions and gigs. I knew from the start we weren’t cut out for it.

Tista, you’re strumming fingers are too much for the tension on the guitar strings. The opposite applies to you Ralph and that you look horribly funny singing an emo song with your eyes closed. And Rap, I haven’t seen you perform with your new band but I swear to my foot …. errr bigyan mo nalang ako ng matinong advice sa love life ko.

As all inumans I go to, I had to leave early lest my dad locks the gate for me.

That morning’s afternnon I didn’t know what hit me but despite waking up feeling I could not walk much, I picked up my football and took freekicks on the street. My kid brother and I took turns shooting into a roughly one meter goal – our open small gate.

It’s not as easy as most people would think as we would position the ball at a 45 degree angle from the far post and made buwelo at the same angle albeit two meters or so from the ball.

The trick was to bend it like Beckham but for the most part we struck the ball wide into mom’s pots and plants instead. I finally got it after stubbing my toe on the ground a couple of times and when I tried the second time around, the ball went in hard just in time to thud on my (b)itchy sister’s stomach.

It would have been better caught on camera and so is a shot from behind of my brother taking aim out our gate, and those candid pics of the smiles and laughters of me and my bandmates which are the stuff that good times are made of.

But alas, they’re all freaking gone now, as elusive as they had come.