Lately, he had been known to take a swing at GMA every time he could. You could see it in his blog. He was a political animal that no PSG could have controlled him had he met La Gloria on the streets. He would have, uhmm, tripped her at the very least.
But his life could not really be defined by the past months or even years. Others have known him in various ways in the three decades that he lived.
Some knew him as the kid who read Mills & Boons, Harlequin and Silhouette Romance. Later in his life, he even shifted to Tagalog romance prose. Even much later, he was the fantasy and sci-fi reader who still rooted himself with reality.
Some knew him as the Mama’s Boy who was never afraid to be seen with his mother even in college. He had much love and respect for his mom. Had his father outlived him, he would have also loved to be called a Papa’s Girl.
Some knew him as the “plant” who never seemed to show libido or take notice of species of the opposite sex. If only they knew him later they would have known why.
Some knew him as that pretending-to-be-straight turned pretending-to-be-bi turned gay-with-no-pretension guy. Especially in the last years of his life, he finally left his comfortable closet and even ventured out of the room.
Some knew him as the guy who lived up to his star sign of the Virgin ... kidding!
Some knew him as that perennial joker who never seemed to stop making fun even of serious situations. Once, a friend forlornly told him that it was her dad’s nth death anniversary. He silently thought for a while then asked, “so should I say condolence or happy anniversary?”
Some knew him as the guy who couldn’t seem to get his stuffs in proper order. It usually took the highest level of tolerance to live with how he just put his things around. He lived a cluttered life. Literally.
Some knew him as the wannabe singer, wannabe lawyer, wannabe guitar player, wannabe photoshop guru, wannabe writer, wannabe lover. Indeed he had wanted many things. He might not have gotten most but for him, what he had was what mattered.
His life could not be defined by the past months or years. How the people around him knew him could sum up how his life had been. At different periods, indeed it was him.
Yes, lately he had been known for his activism and stand on GMA and her policies. To his last breath and his last post, he could not help it but take another swing at her.
He is dead. But GMA or the likes of her did not kill him. They never really could. Never in life and not even in death.
(Written on a dare of blogger friends to post a eulogy for myself. Morbid but it’s in the name of good ‘ole fun and friendship. Bruised my knuckles knocking on wood. Check this for others who bid themselves and the world goodbye.)