Adios, Mi Amigo Asero-je

In a weird tale of tables being turned, we bade adieu to one of the newest additional to the Marketing family. In the exact time that I should be planning my own despidida, I ended up planning for HIS.

Truth to tell, Mark became one of my silver linings. Together with his cohorts (you know who you are) they helped me forget what I’ve been through or what I’m going through. They helped restore my faith in a lot of things. Like the classic quote from one of my fave movies (sshhh...it’s OMC)...maybe the reason we lose some things...is because we can find something better.

Alas...some good things are not meant to last. Although it seemed like he just passed us by, he did leave us with the proverbial smile on our faces.

Ten Things We Will Miss About Mark

1. The booming laugh. Not to mention that he can’t stop himself from laughing at even the most trivial of things. Be warned: this is proven to be contagious.

2. The Bottomless Reservoir of Jokes and Wisecracks. Everything from the politically incorrect to the Benby-colored (read: green jokes) and the pa-simple personal attacks (mukha syang nasobrahan ng Pantene!). Whenever I feel down, I just think about his jokes (most especially the cono girl with a camote) and soon I will be laughing by myself.

3. His Colloquial Terms. He brought a lot of words to our ever-growing Marketing lexicon/jargon. Most notably: Juicekoh! (exclaimed in his own plaintive tone)... Sorry naman... Korny-kornykouva (for the low jokes)... na-Ethel (for the not-so-intelligent moments)...and who can forget... te quiero (used as thank you or for lack of something to say).

4. The High-School-Musical Moments. How he will just break into a song while we are all seriously doing our BR/presentations. And he has a great voice, mind you. The problem is that he is always at a loss for lyrics. He will then sing in his own brand of multilingual lyrics that never fails to catapult me in a laughing frenzy.

5. The Never-Ending Pop References. I seldom encounter a person who can match my brand of jologs pop references (from songs, movies, TV shows). Who can ever understand the Inay Magda look... the shower scene moments... the “lahaaaat...lahat” exasperated expression...or “Abakada...Ina” moments. As Mark would say, it’s not being jologs, it’s being in touch with popular culture (whatever, Mark, you're such a loser).

6. His bloopers. Who can forget the “5-star” moment during a very tension-filled business review and his “shitzhu massage” comment in our meeting with Fitness First. Or that one time when he memorized all the crucial data before our BR presentation...only to be thrown a question that he has not prepared for. The look on his face...priceless. And what about that fateful day when he fell from his office chair.

7. The names we call him. Hagrid...because of his huge frame. While I am “Kuya”, he is “Big Big Brother.” Siopao because of his surname. Kuya Kim or Atienza because of his get-up. And of course, Asero-je (foh-hooor the first time!)

8. The fiesta meals he will always order...especially during lunchtime.

9. The funny faces he will make during group photos. And the priceless poses (the elevator FHM shot and the STI look, to name a few). And who can forget the Mark Opao smile.

10. The car/road trip moments. There is never a dull time when you are with Mark. Either we are playing our pop trivia games or we are engaged in a cerebral conversation. While he may seem child-like in a lot of things, he can be quite mature when the situation calls for it. He has this air of empathy that never fails to connect to you.

On a serious note, I wish you all the best, my friend (said in an "SS" tone). As I said during my despidida dedication...I now know why you are named such...you always leave a MARK. I will forever cherish the five months of stress (LOL) and unending laughter. I don’t need to tell you that someone of your calibre will go places...I just hope that you find your rightful place in the sun....sometime soon.

Many happy trails until we meet again. Ahi te quiero ver, Aseroje!

Tantrums To A Secret God

I want to tell you that your words still cut deep into the recesses of my cold, black heart. But like an empty echo, it just fades into nothingness. The champagne taste of your mediocrity and hypocrisy.

I want to resuscitate you as you bleed from the truth. But every time I summon that modicum of benevolence, I remember the multiple crosses that you bestowed upon these weathered shoulders.

I want to tell you I wince as you feel each painful breath. But short of being the insensitive waif that you are, I am too numbed by my sub-zero disposition. The absence of the sun and the ever so bleak panorama.

If being mature means I have to be moulded by the sad cookie cutter that spawned you, then I’d rather stagnate in my self-imposed regression.

Forgiveness is something I don’t pluck from the thin air that slowly dried me after I was stupefied by your betraying rains.

I am too blessed to be the eggshells that you walk upon. I am not buying your innocence...your know-it-all grin... your nonchalance.... more so your self-serving machinations. The irony is that I am too mature to be a victim of all that. I have mastered your game. I have learned to rise above the hand I was dealt with.

My faith in you has died a thousand deaths. I refuse to dance the same tantrum to your secret god.

In this rebel darkness, I discovered who you are. AND WHAT I CAN BE.

****

I can think of a million ways
You’ve proved you are not the one
To live inside your shades of grey
And never mind the sunshine that I find