As I sat on the backseat of your sister's car,
I knew.
I knew then that it would be the last
Of the unknown that I
Have cherished and loathed
For the longest time.

As I closed my eyes I
Wondered then,
Which one of them was going to fill me in
On what has been going on on
The other side
After all these years?

Father, you left me when I was five
But I couldn't do anything.
You seemed to forget that you had a daughter
But I couldn't do anything.
I searched for you through Friendster
through Facebook
even MySpace
But you wouldn't do anything.
I couldn't do anything.

As I sat on the backseat of your sister's car
About to meet you finally after all these long years
I couldn't do anything.

Had you rejected me
It would have been better
I could have gone crazy and screamed and thrashed and left
But you didn't do that sort of thing.

You hugged me
Along with everyone in the family
Even GrandMama cried as she hugged me
Twas as if the hugs could make up for the years
That went on by
Without you.

I did not grow up on hugs and
Kisses.
I seemed content in the berth of personal space
****** upon me at birth.

But then
Each and everyone of you was a
Hugger. And
I couldn't do anything.

I am not an angry mass of hate
And malevolence.
Gone were the days when
I had wished for your demise.

If anything,
I feared that I wasn't strong enough
For this. But
I couldn't do anything.

Translation follows

mahal kong tequila,
iniibig kita.
ako'y pinakamaligaya
kapag kasama ka.

at sa 'yong piling
ako'y nahuhumaling
walang ibang hinihiling,
wala ring nagsisinungaling.

mahal kong tequila,
mahal ka ngang talaga.
kung ika'y naging mura,
pagkain ka ng masa.

dahil sa 'yong piling
wala nang problema
calamansi at asin
ang tanging kasama.

masarap pa siguro
kung boyfriend kita.
aba, Jose Cuervo..
ang ganda pa sa mata!

Rough translation:

My beloved tequila
I love you.
I am happiest
In your company.

In your embrace
I find extreme closeness appealing
No more requests,
No one lies.

My beloved tequila
I've paid for so dear.
If you'd have been cheaper,
The masses would cheer.

Because in your embrace
Problems are no more
Lime and salt
Are our only companions.

It would be a treat
If you'd be my boyfriend.
Hmm, Jose Cuervo..
The name fits!

I know I'm kind of odd
And weird and
Out of place sometimes.
But that doesn't give you
The right to tell me
That I'm wrong
Or stupid
Or ask what the hell
Am I doing
With a face that struggles
To keep itself straight.

Try not to laugh
At my antics
Or scoff at my freedom.
My pain is real
And profound
But that doesn't
Make you ideal.

I've always had
This free-spirited
Carefree
Out-of-control
Personality
That masks itself
In charms and
Childish grins.

What is it about me
That bothers you so?
Why do you pull
Faces at me
When I try to be me?