Sunday, July 23, 2006

Escape Artists

es·cape [ i skáyp ] transitive verb avoid bad situation: to avoid danger, harm, or involvement in an unpleasant situation.

Just got home from a third party perspective trance.
Unlikely and unplanned, I came from controlling a loud shriek (bcoz Michelle-- convergys colleague-- got distracted from sharing a big secret resulting to her very first car dent) to being appointed as journey guide to six beautiful escape artists.

Early that night, everything seems to be going against me. I lost my aviators during the rainfall rush in front of Jaipur. And couldn't go to Embassy bcoz I'd rather die than expose my ugly hair (baseball caps are not allowed inside the club--- stupid rule). Michelle and I are then trapped into going inside Jaipur and hang out with our korean-american red hat Annabelle and the bastard also known as Sundried (name withheld). And just as i weirdly accepted that my outfit for the night fits perfectly in that hiphop club, i found the highlight of my day inside a nice little clean condo in Pasong Tamo (right after a typical druggie night in government).

I've heard several tales of drugs being used to escape the cruelty of reality. How the short trance it provides promises the ultimate escape to all the harm sanity provides. Some moved on after trying once, some tries it more often than not, some just kept on trying it. Some, die.
Growing up in Manila gave me the luxury to be exposed to all sorts of cheap thrills. From prostitution (with drugs involved) to children whose noses are buried inside plastic bags with rugby (defintely not the sport). When I grew up and started partying with the well-offs, it wasn't at all different. Only this time, they don't do it under the smelly bridges or the putrid clubs near the pier but the expensive clubs and the posh hotels in Makati and Ortigas. I realized that poverty or the extreme, leads to pretty much the same thing. The neverending wants and limitless attempts to escape.
In schools, churches, everywhere, everyone says its wrong. And I never questioned it. Not when I learned that my brother has started to use it. Not when I had my turn in Boracay when a good friend of mine died.
I dared only today to question it. But still uncourageous to answer it.
Most would probably get scared. But I was fine. A little worried, but, not really. It's not like it's my first time to see so many doped individuals.
So there I was, hardly able to maintain my balance on top of an airbed, I have the best view of the different exhibitions of escape. I watch them jump, dance, breathe heavily, roll their eyes, and speak about journeys to Japan and Germany. It was a weird situation, full of weird people. They went as far as swimming in a hardwood floor and doing a diorama of an african safari . Honestly I felt a little envious because I decided not to join them in that trip and It seemed like a lot of fun. Till I found myself getting into a different connection. I was caught in a role that many have had the opportunity but never enjoyed. I was an observer. Picture this... errr, on second thought, never mind. =)
Let's just meet the artists:
Adrian is a LaSalle graduate who went freelance from McCann and is having the time of his life in the world behind the cameras. He made seven thousand faces (some funny, some scary) and danced like a gorilla many many times.
Louie and John. In a relationship. Out of school, beautiful couple, young and can be seen on a typical Greenbelt Saturday Night. They have five or so more years to stay as headturners and crowd stoppers by simply dressing up and appearing on parties. John floated like a jellyfish, and Louie found himself lost finding the door of a 10 sqm room, and got confused whether he's pissing in the bathroom or on the couch.
Pepe is a former commercial model who is on sophomore year in college. He dreams of becoming a flight steward in 3 years and is like a brother to me. He has embarrased himself for the tenth time by squirming on the floor like a 6 ft catterpillar and mouthing a taboo relationship to the owner of the condo. But he didn't mean it.
Georgie is like a mother who takes care of us. Our not so typical fag-hag. She is about to become a certified nurse and join the rest of her family in the US. She was holding the glass plate and the crisp peso bill that funnels the ketamine.
Carlo is a brooding designer from UP and is one of the nicest guys I've ever met. He never moved from where he was the moment we arrived.
They're not any different from the ABS-CBN fashion consultant I once dated nor to my friend who was the first Asian Valedictorian in the University of San Francisco. Or the CEO of HSBC. Or the late Rico Yan. Or perhaps even my current boss.
A few hours later, we were sitting in the couch and the dining area. Everyone's talking about how much they've recalled. How stupid they looked, how cool they felt and how everyone had a great time. We parted ways with a good mix of worries and a new bond. Rain still pouring hard. I even had brunch with three of them whom I've never had the opportunity to share a meal with before. I also got to step inside Walter Mart for the first time.
Then, Adrian worries about his uneven pupils (eyes) and how he'll work on his editing job due after lunch. Louie and John, lethargic, and worries about the hours they'll spend commuting going home to fairview. Pepe sends an sms message about getting tired of drugs but not of friendships. And inside a cab somewhere in Edsa, 21-yr old Juan, still unable to let go about how cracked good-ol' Georgie and ice-queen Carlo looked, as he also remained sober and dozed off during the entire trance adventure (he was next to me in the airbed).
I thought about dropping by the office and getting a haircut. And how both will not be accomplished again. Past an hour later, I can only guess where everyone is right now. Back to where they thought they got away from. Just as they've expected.


superman says:
Stop the prejudice due to ignorance. Visit http://ecstasy.org

2 Comments:

At 5:22 AM GMT+8, Blogger Jethro said...

You forgot the master teacher that day who in juxtaposition, since i wasn't sober, was also observing the entire scene...I watched a beginning which I once had and hoped it would never continue like mine...

 
At 8:50 AM GMT+8, Blogger superman said...

i'm reserving a chapter all for you, honey...

 

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