The idea to start this new chronicle came to me while I was sitting - melting - in Bside, a bar in the bowels of what is known as The Collective Malugay Street. The place is very Bugis meets Lan Kwai Fong meets Cubao X. I was with Claire and Peachy: two people who represent my polar sides. (Claire has been a friend since high school. Bred in exclusive schools, my high school barkada would travel from Katipunan Avenue all the way to Burger King Galleria to meet up with her high school barkada. It was the era of RL shirts, A/X jeans and DMs. Peachy, on the other hand, is a friend from the college literary folio. Discussing Sartre and Elliot and Salinger was something we did when we had nothing more mind-blowing to busy ourselves with. A flask of Tanduay always made sure the conversation went down smoothly.)
Ang Panday was being played as Radio Active Sago project performed their usual funky songs. As I jokingly whispered to July who was seated beside me: "my leather shoes disagree with me being here." My peachy side was in awe while my claire side wanted to fish my mobile phone out of my pocket to surf the net.
As I was stepping out to smoke, a pretty face greeted me: "Snabero ka." It was Sarah whom I've known since college.
* * *
A lot has happened this past month. Or should I say, they have stopped happening. Rockeoke had its last session as Mag:net High Street shut its doors. I just feel that Rockeoke was a blessing. Not only did it indulge my delusions of being a rockstar, but the people of Rockeoke also gave me a home during restless Monday nights. But as my Singapore-based best friend says: God giveth, God taketh away.
Encore closed down. Encore, the echo left by Embassy, the party club that defined a genertion. My generation. Along with it, Suite (Cuisine). I had my share of sanctimoniousness within its wallpapered interiors. Images of the Philip Starck plastic chair still occupies a well-lit wall in my gallery of memories. I will miss stuffing myself with Spamaki at 3am, and then mistakenly picking up the freakin candle instead of the mojito. Just last week, a friend who is now based in New York City came home for a short visit. Yvette is very much a mainstay in that season of my nighlife that was shot on location at Cuisine. As a manner of embracing the future, we hit Members Only and drowned our nostalgia with scotch and vodka. We were all so senti, it was scary.
Now, I heard that the last Fluxxe will be mounted on the last Thursday of July.
* * *
I am not saying goodbye to the recklessness of youth. Rather, I am saying hello to the indulgence of adulthood. It is, after all, the day after Independence Day.
