Defying Normz

Just thinking about how I would entitle my blog entry makes me snigger. And I could imagine the person who is the very core reason why I am writing this making a face now. If he could still manage to smile, that would be an indication of defeat -- like he can still do something to avert my decisive writing. Lawsuit? Hah! Hopeless. You need not worry at all. I mean no harm. Exploitation of another person's character is not my kind of game. Relax. There's more to the experience of reading this than your precursory restlessness.

*****

Five years back, I came upon a thin and tan teenager. Good-natured at first sight and coy like a puppy most of the time. I was freshly out of college and career was far from my mind then. It was summer! I was having a terrific time mingling with my fellow youth, and yes, kids I would consider my little brothers, should they permit. Norman Paul, or Normz -- for the sake of sounding hip maybe, was one of these select kids around I instantly grew fond of. And like I have a choice, he was part of the group I came to share with my frustrations and negativities about my life. He was one of the few I get to shed a tear and blow my nose with, all heart out and no pretense. I was glad to have known him too then -- a minor seminarian on the loose. But he was more to me (as his other peers appeared to be) like someone kidnapped and dragged to the camp; only that the kidnappers realized too late he was not someone ransom-able so they left them there. Poor kids. Amazingly and gratefully, the acquaintance did not end at the Surip camp. Barely a month after, I crossed paths with him (and the others too) again at another camp. And even if there was an extra baggage to our meeting the first time and the next (I meant his brother), the joy of seeing him every time was like seeing women eager to share gossips. No, he is not a gossiper. But I could be at ease around him. Be myself, so to speak. With his presence, jumping like a kid was never too hard when I get thrilled. It gets more thrilling. (Hahaha.) Most of all, the best thing about establishing my friendship with him (and all the others) is the opportunity to be an 'ate' to him (them). A dream come true.

I think to this point that playing the role of a [surrogate] 'ate' to Normz (and all the others) is all-perks to me. Even if it means having to disagree with his point of views most of the time. It doesn't really matter. It helps to have someone I think has marred perspective about certain things -- like love (ulk, I'm throwing up), and who thinks similarly that I have clouded principles too. And that makes us both, hmmm, stupid. We can only laugh at ourselves.

He maybe an epitome of the typical seminarian these days: prayerful, still good-natured, cool, calm and collected. (Let me add a note to that: with Father Rector and the pack of priests around.) But just like a typical seminarian, and a natural human (half moon, half man?) not withstanding, he has his adventures too. Need I mention them? I don't think so. Just by the thought of doing that paints a hilarious picture of Normz' fuming ears. I have more than one of defying ways than writing about him like this.

Still with a snigger, I would close this entry grateful that no matter the distance, no matter the conflicting standpoints, I would keep you as a brother Normz. I heart you much Bebi Bro (and so to the others too)!