Chapter 1 (Part 1) rough draft (Patreon)

Let me give you a glimpse of my life now.

It’s exactly 3:30am on May 10, 2025, two days before elections. I just got home from an advocacy gig where I played 5 original songs with the band, and encouraged the audience to vote wisely and with hope. I missed some notes and spoke somewhat nervously, but that didn’t dampen the excitement of the crowd. Now, I’m sitting on the couch of my living room at the house I’m renting from Sofia’s family. All bills are paid. I’ve just finished drinking beer and eating McDonald’s chicken nuggets, watching Welcome to Wrexham on the TV, relaxing because a 45-minute performance, short as it may be, is exhausting for reasons I will talk about more in this video. (Or, at least I tell myself. Don’t we all come up with reasons to feel like we deserve pleasures in life?)

It’s in these moments that I echo one of the songs of King David where he says to God, “Who am I and what is my family [that You brought me this far]?” Who am I, Lord, and what did I do to deserve this good life?

Of course, I revel in this pleasure now — a hungry, tired introvert’s paradise. But now I recall the challenges I faced the past few months: Dad’s first hospitalization, Lola Sally’s passing, Dad’s second hospitalization and bypass surgery, my own private moments of darkness, the silent tears that no one ever saw, etc. Life really is a series of ups and downs.

Full disclosure: I’m the son of a lawyer. I’m the only son of a lawyer. My first guitars came from my dad. My first car came from my dad. A lot of the things I own now came from my dad. You be the judge if I’m filthy rich or not; I will simply be honest about the advantages I had growing up.

My lawyer dad, though, did not grownup rich. In fact, in his adult life, a sizable portion of his income goes to supporting my homemaker morher, paying off his late father’s debts, supporting a few of his 8 siblings for their dailt expenses. He was so selfless that he never even talked to me about his work; I had to learn that information by doing a quick Google seafch of bis name.

My dad would have been happy if I pursued a course similar to his; that’s why he chose BA Psychology, which I thought was the closest thing to a liberal arts degree in UP Diliman. Though he never explicitly said it, I felt that my dad wanted me to be a lawyer or academician.

My mother had simpler plans for me. She waned, simply, to be a man after God’s own heart.

-to be continued