IT'S a fact. I’m a mushy person. Top 3 in the list of 100 Things You Need to Know about Me (nah, I still have to make that list yet.) I tend to cling on memories especially when they indelibly etched a great impact in my life. Yeah. Sometimes when these memories dawn on me, I get encumbered by over sentimentality to the point that nothing matters in the world except those events and people whom I shared those memories with. I always have this quirk feeling like my existence in this world will never be complete if I let go of them. Now that’s mushy, right? Or insanity. Whatever.
I am writing this entry out of sheer ennui because I know, as my good friend leaves for Ireland, everything gets boring. I mean, my world becomes boring. For almost five years, Piet has been a great part of my friendship portrait (if there is such a word, well then, I coin it first.) Since he “stormed” in the Publications Office apologizing for arriving late, he somehow marked a (forgive me for being harsh, but I’ll just enclose it in quotation mark) “condescending” impression on me (and on the rest of the staff, I guess). Why “condescending?” The major reason why I say so is that, Pietros is Greek. And now I come to realize, that he’s really Greek in the true sense of the word. Partly because he appeared like Hades… no, not Hades… Apollo, when he entered the Pub Office and everyone was asking like, “Is he the one from Greece?” The fact is, Piet is a true-blooded Filipino. He and his family, his mom being a consul at the Philippine Embassy, lived in Greece and in Germany. As for me, having a friend who had been living in Greece, is total ambiguity. Ever heard of the term, “sounds Greek”? Well, Piet really sounds Greek (at least to me), figuratively, that is. Because when we talk or spend time together with the gang, there are times when I don’t understand what he is trying to point out. And more often than not, this results to verbal intellectual fallout. Admittedly, Piet is brilliant and quite adamant in regards to expressing his political spectrum (he’s a Political Science grad, by the way). The manner he speaks and articulates his stance seem like he is ready to die for what he believes in. Mind you, he will never stop talking and repeating until your eardrum explodes.
Growing up in his own Olympus, Pietros is still very much human. His heart gets bruised sometimes. Bruising himself up of worthless stuff. There are moments when I have to pound his head with a hammer or implore Zeus that he’d be struck down by a lightning. This guy is the most sensitive person I know especially when he tends to measure his worth as a person according to what other people say about him. And no matter how we tell him about his significance as a person and as our friend, it still resurfaces and he keeps repeating the same thing and we just have to leave the table. Kidding. Piet knows that we are and we will always be there to listen to his “ranting.”
Time swiftly flies away. We know that Piet has to leave just what the other Greek gods do. His sojourn is over. He may not return to Olympus, but I guess, Ireland is just as celestial as the mountain of the gods. I’m pretty sure, he will be happy since he will be reunited with his family he has long been yearning for. But then again, how about us? How about the sit-down discussion over certain issues and gossips? How about the Booksale invasion every afternoon? How about the early dinner, even the late dinner at Green Mango? How about our evening critique session with the MPG?
It’s a fact. I’m a mushy person. And I’m glad, this time, I’m not writing about myself. Piet poked first, so to say. And I’m just retaliating. I remember one issue of The Augustinian Mirror, when he kind of “chronicled” my life. This entry is one way of thanking him, among other things which I should be grateful about—the friendship, the camaraderie, the brotherhood—which I guess mean the same. Bon voyage, my friend. Hasta la vista. Oh, what’s that in Greek?