emo birthday bash
birthday poster featuring a picture of me at thirteen, taken on halloween in 2009. “stg” stands for sandy the great!
in 2022, i was living in zambales working in my family’s resort business. i wanted to invite my friends over, but the idea of a normal beach trip sounded painfully boring.
One morning at the gym, I had a random and completely unnecessary idea: an emo beach party. This made absolutely no aesthetic sense because Why the fuck would anyone wear black, jeans, chains, eyeliner, and black nail polish by the sea?
there’s no good reason, and that’s exactly why i went for it.
I started planning everything: the invitation, playlist, program, games, and decorations. I bought shades and sex bands. I stuffed cigarettes with rolled-up 2005 magazine prints and convinced a new friend to DJ and host the weekend in exchange for a free stay at our resort.
The first night was a limbo contest followed by a planking contest, which was entirely my dad's idea. I don't know if fourteen minutes qualifies as a record, but three of my guy friends somehow held a plank for fourteen straight minutes.
The second day was devoted to glorified elementary-school Pinoy games, tug-of-war, and whatever else made the weekend feel like high school intramurals. It was exactly the level of cringe I was aiming for.
that evening was emo night. i was secretly worried my friends would half-ass their outfits. but they showed up looking like band members from my chemical romance, and really committed to the bit. so much so that locals kept passing by our resort to peep at us. With fifteen emotionally unstable-looking adults wearing eyeliner by the beach, i’m not sure if they were witnessing a party or a cult gathering.
there was a costume contest, but not the lame kind. Everyone had to walk a runway and model their outfit before the judges (a.k.a. my dad, my titas, my titos, and a handful of confused family friends)
Then we spent the rest of the night partying and pretending we were the long-lost descendants of fall out boy.
