Maui had moved-on.

It happens sometimes without you consciously knowing it that you have to move on and look for yourself out there.

Who? The girl in the picture is who? Ah yes! Partly yes, since she had moved-on in someway or another, but I am not referring to her specifically in this article. Sorry guys, no scoop about her.

It is the apparel that had moved-on, so to speak. Unclear? Let me expound upon this theory.

Flashback!!!!!!!!!

High school, Junior year. The t-shirt brand was the coolest thing so far!! Good thing someone gave me a gift of it that’s why I’m very proud and happy. And I saw a couple of my friends; this was how the conversation went:

Oiey! Nice shirt!
Thanks (am smiling smugly).
Lemmi’ see that tag (he quickly went to the tag at the back of the collar of the shirt). Eih? (Something disappointed him, I wonder.).
How about your tag (the nosey one to the other friend)? He looked. Ooah! Very nice man!
And I also looked at it myself, he is right. The tag indicates that my friend's shirt is original.

The color, texture, and quality of textile, everything looks great. After the faux pax, I gave an inconspicuous glace to my shirt, suddenly it looked pale in comparison. Shucks! I was given a fake, (PEKE PALA!). I was very disappointed. I dunno’ which case is worse, wearing a fake, or not knowing it is a fake. Duh? Ashamed and defeated as I was, I slowly slipped out-of-reach, out-of-sight, and into the background.

Damn! I did not wear that shirt ever again.

Stop. Back to the Future!!!!!!

Here, in the land of sand and oil, after a number of years, I saw this brand of t-shirt again inside a mall. Hah! Payback time! Now I can buy 10 original shirts if I want to. Huh! We’ll see. This time, I would be wearing ORIGINALS! Bwahahaha!!!! Then I began to browse the shirts in display. The problem presented itself in an undeniable way. The designs are way-out-there and above me. Yani, the shirts could be too colorful; maybe the color scheme is “different”; I cannot finger it. The layout and also the arrangement does not speak to me, does not communicate to me. Lastly, the figures/drawings that I expected to see in this brand (a shark in tees and shorts holding a surf board) of shirt is not anymore present there. There is something huge missing, something lacking. I cannot believe it. I am holding the very same brand of t-shirt of high school days, here in my hands, but somehow it is not it, it has dissappeared. I had a feeling that I lost something forever. My nostalgia was dashed into smithereens!

Something had happened. And it hit me, hit me hard. Remember the theory I mentioned earlier? That Maui had moved-on. The answer is, maybe yes. But I recon, that I myself had moved-on also. Not in the same way more likely. And the world had moved-on.
Good grief! I’m getting older faster than I thought.

bow-tie bow!

I bought a printed blue bow-tie in the Mall of the Emirates ages ago. Not the clip-on stuff mind you, but the mature and dignified self-tie tie-type (pardon for the double redundancy, he3!). I used to fancy myself wearing that thing around my neck walking around the party, looking smart and preppy, just like suave actors in the movies. Wicked!

I tried to tie it once, but I was not satisfied with how the finish product looked like. Maybe I did a lousy job in doing-the-knot. Also, I am not used to it. Have you seen a Filipino wearing a bow-tie? Guess not. Another maybe is that it is cultural. I have no roots for it and most (99.5%) of all the “Kabayan” I know are not “in” with the bow-tie thing. So, what the H, I am different from the rest of the potatoes, and I will show it with my unique-”kamote” bow-tie. Bow!

The actual effort is an “extra challenge”. It is like Hercules wrestling Hydra’s heads. It was very difficult to manage and my arms were sore doing the loops-and-turns. Why is it here? Where is that A-Hole? It is supposed to be here. Even though I had instructional print-out sheets of How-to-tie-a-bow-tie-you-idiot, pasted on the wall near the mirror, I am “sotong” (confused) already. In spite of these, the end-result is not very encouraging (to put it lightly). But it looked more like shoe laces of a 4-year old that went awry. B@#$H! So, I decided to put-away the damn thing, well, at least for the time being.

Then suddenly, like a phoenix rising up from the ashes, I resurrected my bow-tie from the abyss of obscurity last night. Something mysterious happened. I cannot explain it, but with some serious effort, that gorgeous bow-tie is now nicely fastened around my neck, complementing my simple handsome self (note: adverse reactions are not permitted). Indeed, practice makes perfect.

Chill!!!!