Friday, June 12, 2009


I don't drive so I don't know how it feels to park a car. I've observed drivers do it and couldn't help but feel impressed by how they manage to make it look easy. I guess since parking is one of those frequent things that a lot of people do everyday, it would be fairly easy to overlook the fact that it's one of those ordinary things that are not so ordinary after all. It's one of those routines that don't get much notice, unless the car gets wrecked in the process.

I'm sort of parking several things I've been "driving" for years now. It's like leaving beloved cars in a parking lot for an undetermined amount of time while I'm off on a trip someplace else. It's like leaving fragments of myself and hope that somewhere along the way, wounds where the parts were ripped off would stop bleeding.

It's sad, actually. As I'm nearing parking time, I couldn't help but wonder when I'll be able to drive them again. There's that IOC-Olympic Solidarity ASMC-MOSO course I've been learning so much from, my position and responsibilities as secretary-general of ARAP, the FISA jury/umpiring tasks and seminars, sports and environment advocacy, team lakay, sanshou training, friends, sisses and brods, and nineteen years worth of life carved where I am now.

Decisive action and tough choices suck. But I believe with all of my heart that I'll be coming back for those that need to be parked. In the meantime, this is like a long, slow goodbye.

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