on the road (of midsalip)

with nothing much to entertain me in midsalip except for some books and magazines, i was able to fill up more pages of my journal than i ever did the last two years.

some excerpts (edited):

10-04-06, 4:27 PM

Just done with Jack Kerouac's "On the Road." Strangely enough, I had trouble reading it at the start. But some friends have recommended it, so I tried my darnedest to plod through it.

The first few pages were difficult to go through. I couldn't read it when there were other books of my interest around me. I decided then to take it along with me when i was 'on the road' instead. When I get utterly bored, I would have to read it.

You might get the impression that it's boring. On the contrary. It's just the stream of consciousness method of writing can sometimes make it difficult to absorb for my puny mind. But the hedonistic journey of Sal Paradise and Dean Moriarty throughout America is actually a very interesting one.

At the beginning, I thought I could easily relate, being always on the road myself. But theirs was an entirely different journey. Seemingly purposeless. On the surface, it seemed to be about the booze, the drugs, the girls. But once I got deeper into the story, I got to admire Sal's loyalty to Dean. Though a wordly man, I admire the depth of Dean's understanding of the souls they encounter as they travel America, despite his madness.

Honestly, I could barely remeber details of the book. There were just too many for everything to truly register. Though it was Mexico that was the hardest to forget. Because it was somewhat similar to my own road trips.

At the end of the book, I asked myself, "when was the last time I've gone mad like that?" Quite a long time ago really. Most of it compressed during my years as a Jesuit Volunteer and as JVP staff. Davao has tempered me. Or maybe, as I am more inclined to believe, spending time with my mom has.

When there are people to think about, you just can't be crazy all the time.

Back in Pangantucan, I used to spend my Sunday afternoons at a rock by the roadside farther out from the main poblacion. From there, it faced a rice field vibrantly green and presented a majestic view of Kalatungan. For some reason, it alarmed the principal of my school and some of my co-teachers. More weird, I got called to the office the next day to be questioned about it. Somehow, hanging out that way was not a common thing, and was alarming to them.

I was 21. I couldn't care less. I was invincible. Getting called did not deter me, but just to avoid future meetings with the principal, I would bring either my partner along, or one of my eager students to enjoy the view with me.

And there were numerous instances that would have given the old fogeys of our school a heart attack had they found out what I was doing. Getting wet in the rain with the graduating class while walking back to town from a hike. Going to a batchmates area without any idea where it was (since JVPs were quite popular, I always find my way. Not without a few glitches here and there though. hehe!).

After reading the book, I wondered if I regret not being as insane as I was.

Not really.

Though I come from a generation when insanity is a prized possession, a badge of coolness to be flashed like a black man's bling-bling. No, I don't regret so.

I'm not disappointed with who I've become. My life's book of stories are brimming with tales of my madness. And there are occassions (not as many as before, but still quite a few) that I allow myself to break free from my mom's and my self-imposed constraints. I would go delirous with my friends during our own version of 'on the road.'

No, not really. No regrets.

Just this morning, I was trekking up and down through three hills to get to our school. Through gooey mud, little springs in the middle of a brewing storm. We were on top of the second hill when the wind blew strong, strong enough to push me a few inches had I not anchored myself on time.

Amidst all that, my heart was singing. I knew I would be safe since my guardian angel has always been reliable. And two, I rejoiced at the thought, how many of my friends go through adventures like this on a regular basis? Not a lot. :)

It may not have been my own madness that brought me to the hill, but rather my job, but I got that job at a time when I was crazy enough to do anything and be anything.

And at that moment, on the second hill, I was not only on the road. I was on top of the world.