Last Ride

She died.

She was crossing an empty street when she was hit by a speeding bus. Her body flew in such a slow motion, she seemed to fly. But then the impact with the ground was inevitable. Her body crashed. Blood spilled on the asphalt.

It was a spectacular performance, and I was her only audience. I was the omniscient god that created her world- yes, the empty street, the need to cross it to reach the emptiness on the other side, the empty bus that crashed through her body, the blood. Her world was only these things.

She was lost. She jut saw the street and the fog on the other side. I gave her will. Cross it, I whispered. She didn't know what to do but to follow the only sound she could hear. She took a ginger step forward, and seeing nothing happened, followed it with another. Then another. And soon she was on the middle of the street, eager to reach the other side.

Then the bus came. It was empty of any soul to drive it but it came so fast. There wasn't even time to react. I couldn't stop it. I created the bus so he could ride it when he crossed the street, but something went wrong. Very wrong.

She didn't even see it coming.

I tried to stop the time. I guess that’s why her body reached the ground so slowly. I was master of her world but I couldn't stop is death. Like it was inevitable no matter how much in control I was.

There was no sound when she hit the road. Her body didn't even rebound. She just lay there in the middle of a pool of red. But- wait, she wasn't dead yet. She was alive!

I descended from the clouds and flew to his frail body. I ran as fast as I could. When I reached her I put her head on my lap and caressed her face. My dress was filled with his blood. I couldn't care less.

She opened her eyes and looked at me. She had such wonderful eyes. So playful, like she had the mind to suddenly jump up and shout "Just joking!", and then she would run from me and of course I would chase her, giggling and laughing until our bliss brings us on the other side of the street. Then we would ride the bus- that’s what it was supposed to be for- to heaven while making passionate love.

But she never did jump up.

She just looked at me. And then her eyes filled with tears. But...the tears never did fall. Because she closed her eyes before they had the chance.

She died.

And I woke up.

In tears- because now I know even if I was god, she still wouldn't be mine.

Mush at the time of cholera

I am jaded.

Not long ago, I found my true north. My existence suddenly gained essence. I was finally living not just for myself but for someone elses as well. Each day was total bliss. The world surprisingly changed its hue. There was peace… even just for a moment.

I was jaded.

We were star-crossed lovers one time or the other. My life used to revolve around my paramour. Used to.

Two months and still counting…

Parting is such sweet sorrow. So true. It’s like having a major hangover after the intoxication wears off from last night’s party. You feel nauseous, dehydrated, wasted, and dry. Mush suddenly loses meaning. Sweet-nothings translate into one word—crap. And like crap, you simply flush it down the drain. You are left with nothing but disillusionment. The world ain’t that great after all. Everything becomes gray.

Fast cars and rubber duckies…

I have mastered the art of watching cars go by, without rational goal or purpose of course. I just love to let my mind wander. Every car carries my thoughts with it. All memory of my long lost paramour. Wishful thinking. No matter how much I try to wash off the pain and misery, I am faced with the fact that baths are now to be shared with rubber duckies. Lifeless rubber duckies.

Ramblings of a jilted lover.

You promised me the stars… it seems that the clouds have hidden them from sight. You said forever… all you gave is just a moment. I guess forever is too long. You said you would stay. Stay with whom? You said, “I love you.” I love you for now? Well, screw love.

Mush at its finest

I have done everything to cope with my loss—from watching cars to bathing alone, from downing alcohol to gazing at an overcast sky, from wishing to hoping, from rambling to writing… At the end of the day, all I have is mush, and no one to share it with.

A line from a popular song says, “You bleed just to know you’re alive…” I feel so alive right now. It must have been death when I was with my paramour for I didn’t know pain. To see the world through the eyes of the jaded was the biggest illusion of all. To love and to be loved for a while was the sweetest thing, even for a cynic.

One express ticket to hell

Do you have a minute or two? I know you’re probably busy with your heavenly and religious affairs, over pricing, maybe even Survivor: Palau, but I really think we should talk.

I, a dot in the cosmos, and you, the so-called creator of whatever was, is, and will be. That is, of course, assuming you exist... Nah, forget my asking for permission. I’d say what I have to say, whether you listen or not. Blame four years of high school Christian Living; it taught me that you gave every human being free will -- a gift I’d be more than happy to exercise now.

How would you like to start a religion business with me? Don’t worry, ownership is entirely yours. All I want is to be CEO.

Our company will sell products designed to meet every Catholic’s needs: The Complete Dummy’s Guides to Salvation, watches that recite one commandment every hour (which means you have to make two new commandments for 11 and 12 o’clock), God-approved contraceptives, cell phones with speed dialing features to heaven (press 1 for the Virgin Mother, press 2 for your favorite saint, press 3 for angelic assistance), Jesus-Mary-Joseph Christmas albums (first 1000 buyers get signed CDs), and a portable gadget that beeps every time a capital sin is committed by its owner’s special someone. Our product listing will have limitless possibilities; our market will include every living Catholic.

Since we can’t risk losing to piracy and we need to maximize profit, all merchandise will bear your official tamper-proof seal, a religion facts table (Recommended Daily Allowance, Moral Value per Serving) and a sticker that says “Hurry! Buy more products to accumulate more points! Every point you earn takes you one step closer to heaven!”

It is a religion company but it’s not religion per se that we’d be selling -- salvation is what your people are crazy about these days; it will thus be the focus of our marketing strategy. In the end, I’d be filthy rich, while you’d get all the good Catholic people from earth!

Now, before you send me straight to hell, relax. I was just kidding! Calm down, man. (Aww, sorry, for a second I forgot you’re a god!) Just trying to get your attention there.

Seriously though, I wouldn’t be shocked if one day I find myself walking into the religion (or should I say salvation?) section of a supermarket. I think my religion has today become too commercialized and too fanaticized to be believable.

For instance, I saw an almost full-page ad in the newspaper last month for Vatican ring tones, picture messages and logos. Since when did you endorse such pay-per-download services?

A church I pass by every weekend was demolished a couple of years ago to construct -- as the billboard says -- the “Church of the Millennium.” For some reason, the project was never finished and the church, in its present state, resembles a dilapidated marketplace. Tell me, what difference does it make if we pray to you in bahay-kubo chapels instead of in ornate basilicas?

Then there’s my high school teacher who reprimanded me for making the sign of the cross with my left hand, the same way my mother scolded me for removing the altar hanging on my bedroom wall. I cannot understand why. Perhaps they’re worried you might throw me into Satan’s den because of my heretical acts. Whoa! I’m scared.

Well, maybe I should be scared, unlike, say, the parishioners who spend thousands of pesos to dress-up their life-size Mama Mary images for the annual fiesta celebration; or the owners of the black Sto. Niño, of the doctor Sto. Niño, of the policeman Sto. Niño, of the sleeping Sto. Niño, of the beggar Sto. Niño and of the hamburger-addict Sto. Niño (Asereje Sto. Niño, anyone?); or the devout follower of the TV evangelist whose donation boxes are almost as tall as he is.

Things like these leave me with the question “What for?” Is it not enough that I believe in you? Frankly, I begin to doubt whether you really did create man or man created you so he could do whatever he wishes in life and yet be assured of a happy ending when he dies.

I realize I have no right to castigate others on how they worship you. After all, there’s no way of deciding whose right or wrong, is there? I’m just telling you these things because I want you to know that I’d like my salvation to ensue. If I would be praying, respecting my parents, abstaining from pre-marital sex, doing charity work or helping a stranger, it wouldn’t be because at the end of the day, I want my “good deeds” list to exceed my “bad deeds” list or because I want to get sure seats in heaven. It would simply be because I want to do these things.

Also, don’t be surprised if you see me skipping communion, if you find me confessing directly to you, or if you hear me omitting lines from the Apostle’s Creed. I’m getting tired of organized religion.

Your preachers taught me how to pray but you've showed me how to lie, can you blame me for not believing anymore?

If by living this way I’m buying myself an express ticket to hell, then so be it. Maybe hell isn’t such a bad place at all. Maybe they need me there.

I guess that’s all I have to say. Thanks for your time, God. You’d better get back to work.

Ah, wait a minute, there’s one last thing: on the day I die, give St. Peter and his rooster a day off. I wouldn’t want to meet him at the gates; I want to see you there. Before you send me to my final destination -- wherever that is -- I’d like to hear what you have to say. That should be interesting.

Langit, Lupa, Impyerno

Mga boses na sintinis ng sirena ng pulis ang gumising sa kanya. “Langit! Lupa! Impiyerno!” Paulit-ulit ang pagkanta. “Im-im-impiyerno! Saksak puso! Tulo ang dugo!” Palakas nang palakas. “Patay! Buhay! Aaaa-lis!” Tumagilid siya at nagtakip ng unan sa tenga para muling makatulog, pero saka napili ng mga naglalaro ang taya; lalo lamang nagsigawan ang mga bata nang magsimula na silang maghabulan.

Punyeta. Sa dami ng kalye kung saan pwedeng maglaro, sa tapat pa ng bintana ng kwarto niya. Bumalikwas siya ng higa. Itinapon ang unan sa paanan. Kumapit sa magkabilang gilid ng kutson at itinulak ang sarili para makabangon. Umupo sa kama. Nilamukos ng kanang kamay ang mga mata habang kinakapa ng mga paa ang tsinelas sa sahig. Hindi pala siya nakapagpalit ng damit; naka-itim na polo at pantalong maong pa rin siya.

Alas-otso y medya, sabi ng alarm clock sa computer table sa kabilang dulo ng kwarto. Alas-dos siya dumating, anong oras ba siya nakatulog? Hindi niya alam. Hindi nga siya makapaniwalang nakatulog siya. Ang mahalaga, nagising pa rin siya sa sariling kama.

May dilaw na post-it sa monitor ng computer. Maski nagmumuta pa siya, basang-basa niya ang kanyang pangalan (RJ, itim na pentel pen at kalahati agad ng papel). Galing iyon sa tatay niya; ugali na nitong mag-iwan ng post-it kapag may kailangang sabihin at hindi sila magkikita. “Tumawag si Lucy, tulog ka na. Magkita na lang daw kayo bukas.” " Maglinis ka ng kwarto.” “Sa labas ka na kumain mamaya, gagabihin ako ng uwi.” Ganoon ang mga mensahe. Walang I lo-I love you anak; hindi sila mahilig sa kasentihan. Na OK lang naman. Nangilabot nga siya nang minsang makakita ng “Ingat” sa text nito sa kanya.

Tinatamad pa siyang lumapit para basahin ang nakasulat sa post-it. Kaliwang gilid na lang nito ang nakalapat sa monitor, halatang nagmamadali ang nagdikit. Baka iniwan bago pumasok sa opisina kanina.

Shit. Pumasok ang tatay niya sa kwarto kanina.

Hinagilap ng mga mata niya ang susi ng kotse. Sa mesa sa gilid ng kama. Sa harap ng CPU. Sa ashtray na katabi ng radyo. Sa sabitan ng belt sa likod ng pinto. Sa takip ng basket ng labahang damit. Wala.

Bakit nga ba iniwan pa niya sa glove compartment ang trapong ipinanlinis niya ng kotse?

Katangahan. Tanga kasi siya.

Iyon lang ang naiisip niyang dahilan. Ayaw na niyang mag-isip pa ng iba; daragdag lang sa sakit ng ulo niya. Kulang siya sa tulog, nakaririndi pa ang mga bata sa labas. “Taya! Taya!” sigaw ng isang bata. “Hindi ah! Ang dugas-dugas mo kasi!” agad na sagot ng nataya. “Anong madaya? Neknek mo!”

Hindi minamartilyo sa sakit ang nararamdaman niya sa ulo. Mas malala. Parang may isang nilalang na nakakulong sa kanyang bungo, nagpupumiglas at gustong lumabas.

Isang batang babae. Lampayatot, hanggang balikat ang buhok, nakasuot ng PE t-shirt at puting shorts. Nagdadabog. Naghuhuramentada sa kanyang utak. Dumadagundong ang mga yabag. Pilit itinutulak ang kanyang mga mata paalis mula sa kanilang mga butas. Handang wasakin ang bungo niya kung kinakailangan. Gusto nitong maglaro. Sa kalye.

Tumayo siya mula sa kama. Pinulot ang rubber shoes na nakakalat sa sahig, saka naalalang itinago niya ang susi sa loob ng kahon ng sapatos sa ilalim ng kanyang higaan.

Tama, doon, kasama ng puting panyong napuno ng pinaghalong pawis at dugo.

Isa pang katangahan. Makahihinga na sana siya nang maluwag.

Sinigurado muna niyang nasa kahon pa rin ang susi at panyo (kulay lupa na ang mga mantsa ng dugo), saka siya lumapit sa bintana. Natanaw agad niya ang mga naglalaro: limang batang nakapaikot sa isang naka-ponytail. Umiiyak ang batang nasa gitna. Malamang iyon ang nataya. Wala pang isang minuto, tatahan din iyon sa tantiya niya. Magso-sorry ang nandayang taya. Pagkatapos, laro na naman.

May mga bata pa palang naglalaro sa kalye.

Akala niya, lahat ng bata ngayon, kung hindi nakababad sa TV, nasa tapat ng computer. Akala niya, extinct na ang taguan, monkey-monkey at Pepsi/7-Up. Walong taon siguro siya nang huling maglaro ng mataya-taya sa tapat ng bahay nila. Third year college na siya.

Expert siya sa dayaan noong bata. Kapag langit lupa ang laro, kaya niyang pahabain ang kanta huwag lang siya ang mapiling taya (“…Patay! Buhay! A-lis ka na di-yan sa pu-wes-to mo!”). Kahit kapirasong patpat ay nagiging langit kapag siya ang nakatuntong. At maliban sa isang nakipagsuntukan, lahat ng naging kalarong babae ay napaiyak niya. Siya ang hari ng kalye.

Pero hindi na siya bata; wala na siyang karapatang mandaya.

Matagal din siyang nakatitig sa kisame kaninang madaling-araw, nag-isip habang nakahilata sa kama. Gaya ng ginagawa niya ngayon habang pinagmamasdan ang mga batang sumira ng umaga niya.

Matanda na siya; may isip na dapat siya.

Sa ayaw niya’t sa gusto, meron pang mga batang mahilig maglaro sa kalye, maski mag-aalas-dose na ng gabi at nagkalat ang mga gagong nagmamaneho ng kotse. Sa ayaw niya’t sa gusto, lasing siya nang umuwi galing sa isang birthday party kagabi, at hindi kanya ang kalye.

“Langit! Lupa! Impiyerno…”

Napupunta kaya sa langit ang lahat ng batang namamatay? Sana. E siya? Asa pa. Alam niyang wala siyang lugar sa langit. Ang problema, ayaw niyang mabulok sa isang kulungan sa lupa.

“Im-im-impiyerno…”

May pagpipilian pa ba siya? Kung nagkataong walang nakakita sa kanya kagabi, hindi siguro siya namumroblema ngayon. Pero bangag sa alkohol ang kukote niya. Bumaba pa siya ng kotse para tingnan kung ano ang kumalabog nang bigla siyang lumiko sa isang shortcut. Kung nagdire-diretso lang siya sa pagmamaneho, siguradong walang nakatanda sa kotse niya.

“Saksak puso! Tulo ang dugo…”

Tumili ang mga kalaro ng batang babae. Tatlo o apat na matitining na boses na sinabayan ng magkakasunod na pagtatahulan ng mga aso sa kalye. Isa-isang nagbukasan ang mga ilaw at may ilang naglabasan ng kanilang mga bahay. Saka lang siya natauhan.

Kitang-kita niya ang duguang batang napailalim sa unahang gulong ng kotse niya. Kumaripas siya pabalik sa driver's seat. Muntik pa siyang masubsob sa aspalto sa pagmamadali; mabuti na lamang at nakakapit siya sa pinto bago tuluyang madapa. Pinaharurot niya ang sasakyan (kung nakaladkad ang bata, hindi na niya napansin) at dalawang oras siyang nagmaneho sa kung saan-saan para matiyak na walang sumunod sa kanya.

“Patay! Buhay! Aaaa-lis!”

Agad niyang nilinis ang bumper, headlight at gulong pagkagarahe sa bahay. Sa katarantahan, panyo pa ang una niyang ginamit na pamunas bago naisip humanap ng basahan. Ngayon, gusto niyang tawanan ang sarili. Wala naman kasing silbi ang ginawa niyang paglilinis ng kotse kaninang madaling-araw.

Iniumpog niya ang kanyang ulo sa bakal ng bintana. Paulit-ulit ("Tanga, tanga, tanga..."), saka tumalikod at naglakad patungo sa pintuan.

Hindi na kailangang idikta ng utak kung saan siya pupunta: sa CR. Nandoon ang medicine cabinet. Kay Satanas din naman ang bagsak niya, uunahan na niya si Kamatayan; kesa sa lupa pa niya unang matikman ang impiyerno. Mga imahe pa lang ng posas, rehas na bakal, barberong kalbo at tatong agila, sinusunog na ang pakiramdam niya. Maswerte na siya dahil wala pang mga pulis na kumakatok sa kanila.

Dahan-dahan siyang dinala palabas ng kanyang mga paa, habang ang muling pagsisigawan ng mga naglalaro ay nilunod ng mga hiyaw ng batang nagwawala sa kanyang ulo.

Lost Generation

Im a part of a Lost generation

and i refuse to believe

that i can save the world

I realize this may be a shock but

"happiness comes from within"

is a lie and

"money will make me happy"

so in 30 years i will tell my children

they are not the most important thing in my life

my employer will know that

I have priorities straight because

work

is more important than

family

i tell you this,

Once upon a time

families stayed together

but this is not true in my era

This is a quick fix society.

Experts tell me

30 years from now i will be celebrating the 10th anniversary of my divorce

i do not concede that

i will live in a country of my own making

in the future,

environmental destruction will be the norm

no longer can it be said

that my peers and i care about the earth

it will be evident that

my generation is apathetic and lethargic

it is foolish to presume that

there is hope.


AND IT WILL HAPPEN IF WE DIDN'T REVERSE IT.

The poet i never was

This is my way of moving on, of saying goodbye to a love that was never meant to be and was never mine to begin with.

You know, I've never really understood what happened between us...how and why we came to this - not seeing each other for months at a time, barely talking, barely even on speaking terms. But then again, was there ever an us to begin with? We were just friends who kidded about having a relationship. It made us laugh to see others' reactions every time we'd tell them we've gotten together and that we call each other Hugs and Kisses. You always referred to me as "bolt ko" but we both know there's really nothing to it, or at least that was what we owed up to the rest of the world. Even now it would make me smile to think how fast and how far things have gone from there.

Thank you for everything...for taking away my insecurities; for showing me that people do love me for who I am; for making me understand that people I love will hurt me but it doesn't necessarily mean they love me any less, and that when they do hurt me, it is possible to forgive, forget and move on with life; for making me realize it is possible to trust again after getting hurt. Thank you too for giving me the most painful lesson in my life thus far "LOVING SOMEONE WHO HAS ALREADY HAD SOMEONE"...that the moment you love someone you have given her the capacity to hurt you, that how much you hurt is equal to how much you have loved, that getting hurt is proportionate to having too many expectations. Thank you for accepting me and allowing me enough room to grow at the same time...for inspiring me and making me want to become a better person. Thank you for being there when I needed you - for the silly and the serious moments; for making me laugh, smile and cry all at the same time; for holding my hand at PULP summerslam; for giving me a hug and wiping away my tears when I'm sad or confused; for never failing to make me feel better no matter how down or how depressed I've become; for unselfishly sharing my joys and my happiness. Most of all, thank you for making me feel special, for making me feel loved, even if it was so ambiguous and so fleeting I was hardly conscious about it.

I'm sorry things had to come to this - I wasn't supposed to fall in love with you after all, and I wasn't supposed to expect anything to come out of our playing pretend either. But even if everything got so painful, I'm still glad to have known you, to have had you in my life even for just a short while. I've heard people say that while some good things never last others don't even start - I guess that fits us exactly...we could have been good together...good for each other, but then since we never really gave ourselves a chance, things had ended before they even began.
I also want to apologize to your BF, sorry that i have fallen for your girl, i didnt mean it, neither did i want to took her away from you, it just happened, in an instant; unexpected.

The moment you read this letter, im already leaving all the stupid thoughts of you and me walking in the beach looking at the sunset, you and me playing with kids, you and me together with bryce and karen giggling around. Because at the end of the day, there's no really you and me.

The second time around (?)

I don’t know what to make of you. The past weekend was just too overwhelming for me. With one moment of mutual boredom and a series of friendster messages and text messages, you were back in my life.

Or maybe you just brought me back to the past. To the white walls and red-tiled floors of our common computer shop. To our afternoon strolls and orange sunsets. To the ATM machine and the National Bookstore that witnessed our story. To numerous poems, first dances, and young love.

I always felt that high school, being one of the best parts of my life, went by too fast. In that fleeting world, we met each other. The usual weird boy started to like the usual famous girl. Eventually, the glances lingered. Eventually, the smiles lingered as well. Eventually, he started to like her too.

She was his inspiration. He was her welcome distraction. They exchanged stories, ideas and poems. They were friends and wished each other good luck before exams. They shared notes, laughs and jokes. He started to ace his subjects with the inspiration. She started to fail because of the distraction.

He really like her a lot that he even know all the stuffs about her. With his young heart he loved the first feeling of love. It was more than romantic. It was magical.

Now, it’s nostalgic. I can’t believe I still remember all this. They were stashed away for years at the back of my mind.

Now, getting to know you once again, I can say that you’ve changed yet still stayed the same. You’re a mere projection of the fifteen-year-old you. You’ve grown from a good girl to a rebel lady. You’ve matured and took one step towards your dreams. You still value your friends alot. Maybe you still have the same stride and the same look. Maybe you still excel in the things you give your heart to… Maybe…

The truth is, I don’t know you anymore. I just pretend I do. We’ve both obviously grown since high school, and all I know of you is a fifteen-year-old girl. And you know me as a fifteen-year-old boy. Some things stay the same, but most things change. We’re not fifteen anymore. There’s no romance. No magic. Just reality.

I was in rage when i discovered what you've done to me. Our supposed to be Perfect Relationship were just broken by just one weakness, falling in the idea of falling for someone. That hurts me alot. I dont even know why im still talking to you. I really dont know

Some believe in rekindling old flames. Some say that once there’s a spark, the flame will never die out. I believe that old flames can be blown out just as easily as they can be rekindled. I know, because that’s what I did.

GOD, You're FIRED!

God is a bad sales man.

He shows you this product you couldn't have cared less about if He hadn't intervened. So there's this product, right? And yeah, you admit, it looks okay. You nod--it looks okay. But you shake your head right after--you don't need that right now. So God throws you His salesman smile.

That's when you get stuck with the sales talk.

God begins showing you everything this product can do. And man, it can do a lot. It can make your life so easier, provide you with entertainment, make you feel a little more secure, increase your confidence, have you smiling a bit more even. And you nod--yeah that's great. Then you shake your head right after--you already have other things performing those tasks for you right now. So God throws you another smile, bigger this time.

And He shows you how different this is from everything that you have. And how you're one of the special ones He so importantly chose to even just check out the product. Then He gets into further details about how this is like nothing you've ever seen before He tells you how it's only a limited offer and it's for a very low price right now. All you need to do is to say you want it--no commitments.

And so you start thinking. Hmmm, no commitments aye? So all you need to do is to say you're interested? Well, yeah--God says, almost hesitantly. He begins to seem like the offer isn't available anymore so you look at Him with a quizzical expression on your face. God sighs--well, I have to see that you really want it, because of course I'm gonna give it to the one with the best offer. It's really in demand, He adds.

So you begin your own sales talk. You tell Him that ok, you're willing to shell out this much--and that's an amount well beyond what you can actually spend. You say that you're really intent in buying the thing you're willing to do probably some overtime so you can afford it. You say you're really going to make ways and move mountains if only you can have it. And that if He wants He can even check up on it after you've closed the sale to see how good you're taking care of it.

And He nods like He's convinced and you think that it's a done deal. But of course it's not. Because like I said, God is bad salesman. Why, you ask? It's out of stock, God shrugs and walks away. Sorry.

And you find yourself exacty the way you were when you got there, but disappointed. Because now you feel like you're lacking something. You feel incomplete because of this thing you never even had--something you got convinced could be good for you and make life a lot better and it just so turns out that however much you'd be willing to invest, it's just impossible to have.

But ok, I take it back. God isn't a bad salesman. He isn't bad at all. I mean, He almost made the sale had the product been available. So He's good. He just has a sick sense of humor.

Ako ba si Wolverine?

Napansin ko siya minsan, hindi ko maalala kung papa'no. Basta na lang, isang araw. Ayun.
Naramdaman ko. Naramdaman lang, hindi naiintindihan. Hindi rin pwedeng hawakan, laging nagpupumiglas.

Wala siyang tiwala kahit kanino. Ang angas! Parang lahat ng gaw'in ko, may itinatagong masamang layunin laban sa kanya. Kapag wala naman akong ginawa, pakiramdam niya nagpaplano pa lamang ako ng kung ano para maipahamak siya.

Talaga nga naman. Naalala ko pa, minsan kinausap ko. Masinsinan ba, para naman may makuha akong kahit konting impormasyon tungkol sa kanya. Aba, nagalit! Kaya daw ako nagtatanong ng mga bagay tungkol sa kasaysayan niya para pwede ko na siyang paalisin. Kasi nga naman, kung alam naman pala niya kung nasaan siya dapat, e di dapat nandun siya. Gusto kong magpaliwanag at sabihing totoo man yun, hindi naman ibigsabihing kapag nakita na niya ang nakatadha niyang kalulugaran e iiwanan ko na siya. Pinabayaan ba man lang ako magsalita? Hinde.

Kaya kung magsama kami ngayon, parang hindi kami magkakilala. Hindi kami nag-uusap, pwera na lamang kung kinakailangan talaga. Sa'kin naman, ayos lang 'yun. Hindi naman ako mahilig mamilit, e sa 'yun 'yung gusto niya e di pabayaan. Isa pa, parang mas marami pa akong nalalaman tungkol sa kanya kapag pinabayaan ko na lang siya mag-isa.

Halimbawa, napansin kong magaling siyang makiramdam sa paraang angat sa mga kauri niya. May alam siyang kung ako lang mag-isa, siguradong hindi ko man lang mapupuna. Ibang klase ang kanyang paningin, may mga nakikita siyang mga bagay na hindi ko maipaliwanag kung pa'no niya napansin. Isa pa, pakiramdam ko ang laki na ng itinanda ko mula nung panahong una ko siyang nakita, pero siya, parang hindi tumatanda. At hindi pa rin nagbabago. Ayaw pa ring magtiwala.

Nung una nga, hindi ko talaga maunawaan. Ang lakas-lakas niya kaya! Yun bang isang tingin mo pa lang sa kanya, alam mo nang hindi mo kayang kalabanin. Kaya kapag natatakot 'yun, talagang litung-lito ako. Minsan nga gusto ko nang sabihin, "Sa lakas mong yan, ang duwag duwag mo! E kayang-kaya mo naman! Kapag pa nasaktan ka, napakabilis mo din naman maghilom! Ano ba'ng problema mo?"

Buti na lang hindi ko tinanong. Dahil nalaman ko lang nitong mga huling araw kung saan niya nakuha ang paraan ng pagtatanggol sa kanyang sarili. Isang mahaba at masalimuot palang pagpapakasakit ang dinaanan niya para maging ganito. At ngayon ko rin lang napansin na sa bawat pagkakataong kinakailangan niyang lumaban para protektahan ang kanyang sarili nasasaktan pa rin siya. Mabilis nga namang gumaling yung mga sugat, pero kahit ako aaming wala nang mas nakakadala pa sa pilat ng pag-alaala.

Kaya ngayon, kung kailan tanggap na yata namin parehong hindi na namin malalaman kung sa'n siya nagmula, talagang hindi ko na siya pinapakialamanan. Kung may malaman man kami, eh kung baga, karagdagan na lamang 'yun. Alam naman niya kung ano ang ginagawa niya at marunong naman siyang alagaan ang kanyang sarili.

Ang tanging kahilingan ko na lang para sa kanya, sana dumating ang panahong matanggal na sa kanya ang mga pananggol niya. Alam kong hindi maaaring isa na namang mahaba at labis na paghihirap ang padaraanan niya para mangyari 'yon. Pero ang naiisip ko namang rason kung bakit kailangang mangyari ulit sa kanya yon ay dahil sa panalanging darating din ang araw, hindi na niya kailangan ipagtanggol ang kanyang sarili. Wala nang saysang pang hindi magtiwala. Wala nang rason upang matakot.

Crashed

It started with a crash.

I guess everything somehow starts out this way, that, as mortals with brains that can only grasp so much, we're just not aware of the complexities of nature and physics and everything that we know that influence the lives of men around this blue sphere we call Earth.

Things colliding with varying degrees of force, it is in the heart of everything. It is in the heart of both creation and destruction. (Though it is said that matter cannot be created or destroyed; only transformed from one form into another, or so states the Law of Conservation of Matter, yet one can only be skeptical about these "Laws". So in this piece, with your permission, I move to suspend this Law and thus I continue with my almost incoherent rambling.)

Everything in this world is borne out of things bumping and smashing into each other. Immense quantities of energy are produced by the swirling, chaotic dance of atomic particles crashing into one another. Lives are ended when bullets and shrapnel run into vital organs.

The universe is one big bumper car ride and more often than not, these collisions leave marks that would last us for the rest of our forsaken lives. (I'm not really bitter, just being borderline psychotic, neurotic, and manic-depressive but not bitter. No, Good heavens, NO.)

This epiphany happened when your existence first crashed into my reality. You are a bowling ball bringing disorder to the orderly group of ten pins that is my life. You suddenly appeared without warning, very much like Germany's blitzkrieg invasion of Europe, and there's no way in hell that your commanding presence could go unnoticed. And like a Frenchman caught with his drawers around his ankles, a muffled "Sacre bleu!" was all I can utter in the face of such inevitability.

Pretty much like introducing a bullfrog to an alien ecosystem, everything was thrown off balance. Every routine, every habit, schedule, every time table I've planned you turned conveniently to crap. Instead of being alarmed, I was drawn even more so to that magnificent source of distraction, destruction and pain.

My days were soon filled with the constant bickering (You always looked so cute whenever you're annoyed so I tried to piss you off as best as I can), the smug swagger you'd do after I've given up and surrendered to your whims, the shrill, ear-piercing shriek as you sang, and the way you playfully smack the back of my neck for no apparent reason. Curiously though, these are the high points of my day.

Despite the harrowing carnage that you've wrought, I started to rebuild around you. I made you the agora of my new metropolis, very much akin to how a tree's bark grows over a deeply-driven nail.

Oblivious to the painful fact that deeply-driven nails can be forcefully removed, leaving the bark disfigured, and dying.

As sudden as your arrival was your departure, effectively transforming everything in my world into one beautiful, putrid, decrepit, twisted and twitching mass of emotional trauma. Such was your power over me. Someone who didn't take bull from anybody, you turned into a sniveling little boy. Someone who defied authority, you made into an obedient machine. Yet something tells me that I wouldn't want it any other way.

Now I believe, neurotic as it may seem, our time together was really brief, almost a split of a split second in a cosmic time scale of the universe. As instant as the moment of contact a bullet shares with a wall before ricocheting away. (Though some walls are lucky enough that some bullets get stuck). Our encounter was so brief and quick and instant that it shouldn't really matter. To further dwell on it is just a waste of time, oxygen and brain cells.

Why the title then? Why all the talk about crashes, collisions and impacts?

You are a 460mm shell fired off the massive guns of the legendary WWII battleship Yamato.

I am a wall of the first little pig's flimsy straw house.

And while you have decimated and obliterated me completely,

I wasn't able to manage even the slightest dent on you.

Ang love story na hindi

"Kailangan ko na umuwi eh."

Sumimangot ako at tinignan ka na tila kinakabisa ang iyong mukha. Ayokong pang umalis ka, kadarating mo lang kasi. Ito iyong isa sa mga kakaunting panahon na nagkaroon ka ng oras upang bumisita sa akin. Gusto ko sana, kung maaari ay tumigil ang oras para sa ating dalawa.

"Sandali na lang, pwede ba?"

Ayoko sanang magsalita ngunit hindi ko napigilan ang sarili ko. Sanay ka na rin naman sa mga pakiusap ko, madalas ang mga ito'y dumadaan sa iyo nang hindi napagbibigyan. Ngunit iba ngayon. Nararamdaman ko ito, dumating ka, hindi ba? Kahit na ba alas-tres na ng umaga, dumating ka pa rin at iyon ang mahalaga.

Ang buong paligid ay tahimik, wala na ngang dumadaang sasakyan sa kalsada at tayo'y nagbubulungan na sa takot na makagising ng mga tao o di kaya'y mabulabog ang aso ng kapitbahay. Pinagpatuloy ko ang pagtingin sa 'yo. Nakita ko sa iyong mga mata ang paghati ng iyong damdamin kung tatagal ka pa sandali upang makipagtitigan sa akin o uuwi na upang matigil na ang pag-aalala ng iyong ermats. Kilalang-kilala na kita, alam ko na lagi ang ikikilos mo, ang iyong sasabihin, at ang takbo ng isip mo.

Mahal kita.

Ilang taon na din kitang minamahal na hindi mo namamalayan. At kahit gaano katagal pa kitang patuloy na mahalin, hindi mo ito mapapansin.

"Aalis na nga 'ko, dinalhan lang naman kita ng pagkain RJ eh."

Napangiti na lamang ako at sabay nilunok lahat ng pagnanasang yakapin ka ng mahigpit at sabihin sayo ang nararamdaman ko. Hindi mo dapat malaman dahil hindi mo rin naman maiintindihan.

"Gago. Ingat ka."

Tumawa ka at saka niyakap ako.

Pumasok ka na sa iyong kotse at pagka-andar ng makina, binaba mo ang salamin ng bintana at kumaway.

"Sige, bes. Goodnight!"

Napabuntong-hininga na lang ako at sabay pumasok sa loob.


_____________________________________________
Oo, isa ito sa mga kwentong parang kayo pero hindi kayo at kahit baliktarin mo man ang mundo, hindi magiging kayo.

Kainosentehan

Bukas ang bintana ng bahay namin, nanonood kami ng TV, nung bigla ka nalang sumigaw, "Huy!" sabay tago mo. Napalingon pati si Mommy sa'yo. Siyempre ako, umakyat na ng sopa at ginalaw ang jalusis pababa para makita kung sino yung nagtatagong bata. Alam ko na'ng ikaw yun pero kailangan kong makumpirma.

Tumawa ka nung nakita kita. Lagi naman eh. Tuwang tuwa ka parati kapag nakikita mo ako. Napapangiti tuloy ako. Matagal bago tayo nagsalita pareho, pero di tulad ng matatanda, hindi tayo nahihiya. Walang awkward moment kapag bata. Nagtitigan lang tayo, may mga ngiti sa labi -- kitang-kita ang mga ngiping malapit na'ng malaglag at ang mga nagsisitubong pamalit sa mga nauna na.

"Laro tayo" sabi mo sa wakas. Nakabuka na ang bibig ko para tanungin kung anong laro ang lalaruin natin nung nagsalita si Mommy

"Hindi ka pwedeng lumabas ha."

Napatungo ka ng konti at medyo nabawasan ang ngiti nung marinig mo yung Mommy ko. Nakita ko yun kaya para maibsan, ngumiti ako ng mas malaki. Lumabas ang maliit mong tawa. May lumabas ding kaunting laway kaya natawa na tayo ng tuluyan.

"Hindi daw ako pwedeng lumabas eh."

Sayang, gusto ko pa naman sana makasama ka. Ang taba mo kasi eh! Ang sarap mo tuloy pisilin. Madalas, ‘pag naglalaro, sumasagi ang braso ko sa balat mo. Ang sarap kasi malambot. Sayang hindi ko mararanasan yun ngayon...

"O sige, bukas nalang."

Umalis ka na agad pagkasabi mo nun. Bitin. Gusto pa kitang kausapin eh. Para sana masaya. Sinara ko nalang yung jalusis para hindi ko kayo marinig ng yaya mo sa labas. Alam ko maiinggit lang ako eh. Tuloy nalang sa panonood ng Batibot. Di bale, bukas, may laruan akong injection, ipapakita ko sa’yo. Sana lang hindi makita ni Mommy na ilalabas ko yun, naisip ko.

Kinabukasan, maaga akong nagising. Naisip kong tulog pa si Mommy at hindi niya malalaman yung tungkol sa inje-injeksyunan. Pagkalabas ko, tumapat agad ako sa bahay ninyo, nag-ingay ng konti para malaman mong nandoon ako.Dumungaw ka sa terrace ninyo. Tulad ng dati, tumawa ka nung nakita mo ako. Dalawang itim na linya nalang ang mga mata mo. Ako naman, Pilipinong-pilipino, lumaki ang mga mata sa kakatingala sa maputi mong mukha. Pinakita ko sa'yo yung laruan ko. Dali-dali kang pumasok sa kwarto mo. Akala ko magbibihis ka kasi nakapantulog ka pa. Hindi na pala. Dire-diretso ka na papalabas. Papunta sa akin.

Naglaro tayo. Matagal. Masaya.

Lumabas ang yaya mo, sabi mag-almusal ka na daw at maligo kasi malapit na kayong umalis ng Papa mo.

"Sa'n kayo pupunta?"

"Pupuntahan namin si Mama sa Canada."

"Ah."

"Sige ah. Pasok na ako."

"Sige."

Nung pumasok ka sa inyo, tinawag na rin ako ni Mommy. Pinagalitan pa ako kasi ang aga-aga nasa labas na raw ako.

"Ma, pupunta daw sina Mae sa Canada."

"Ah, talaga?! Wow, mabuti pa sila!"

Hindi ko alam, hindi na pala kita makikita.Gabi-gabi umaasa pa rin akong kinabukasan may dudungaw uli sa bintana ng TV room namin para magsabing “Laro tayo.”


___________________________________________________
For the child within uswhom we've lost (far too early) and never mourned for.

just somr random stupid thoughts

if the sky is the limit, then what is space, over the limit?

Who was the first person to look at a cow and say, “I think I’ll squeeze these dangly things here and drink what comes out”?

Who was the first person to say, “See that chicken over there … I’m gonna eat the first thing that comes out if its butt”?

What happens if you put “this side up” face down while popping microwave popcorn?

How do they get the air inside the bubble wrap?

If a criminal turns himself in shouldn’t he get the reward money?

Why is it that people say they “slept like a baby” when babies wake up like every two hours?

If the weather man says “it’s a 50% chance of rain” does that mean he has no idea if its going to rain or not?

If Sunday is the holy day of rest why do we have to get up early for church?

Don’t you find it weird we teach our kids: scrub a dub dub, three men in a tub?

Did you know there is a page 666 in The Bible?

If your named Will and you are in the army do you get worried when people say fire at will?

What does the T in T-Shirt really mean?

If a picture is worth a thousand words, what is a picture of a thousand words worth?

Why do we feel blue? and what color does a smurf feel when they are down?

If Barbie is so popular, why do you have to buy her friends?

When everything’s coming your way, you’re in the wrong lane.

I used to have an open mind but my brains kept falling out.

Everyone has a photographic memory. Some just don’t have film.

Join The Army, Visit exotic places, meet strange people, and then kill them.

Evening news is where they begin with ‘Good evening’, and then proceeds to tell you why it isn’t.

Death is hereditary.

There are three sides to any argument: your side, my side and the right side.

Never argue with a fool. People might not know the difference.

When you’re right, no one remembers. When you’re wrong, no one forgets.

Always remember that you are absolutely unique. Just like everyone else.

Everyone makes mistakes. The trick is to make mistakes when nobody is looking.

On the keyboard of life, always keep one finger on the Escape key.

You’re slower than a herd of turtles stampeding through peanut butter.

Never argue with an idiot. They drag you down to their level.

Children: You spend the first 2 years of their life teachingthem to walk and talk. Then you spend the next 16 yearstelling them to sit down and shut-up.

SOngs

so many requested for the lyrics of these songs...

so here it goes

an unreleased song for a lost love

i swear
i'll run faster than you
so you wont catch me..

but if i fall
use me,
take me,
break me,
baby

coz to you i am nothing
to me you were everything
to me you were everything

Refrain:
and you bring on
more pain than
i could ever bring
and you sing the saddest song
anyone could ever sing

and its time to crush this things

Chorus:
there goes our story
the writer's a sinner
the end came too soon
she's got nothing left in her

there goes our story
the writer's a sinner
the end came too soon
she's got nothing left in her
nothing left in her

i swore
id run faster than you
so you would'nt catch me
but i fell and you broke me
baby

lately
to you i am nothing
to me you were everything
to me you were everything

and you brought on more pain
than i could ever bring
and you made me sing
the saddest song that i could
ever sing

and its time to crush this thing

there goes our story
the writer's a sinner
the end came too soon
she's got nothing left in her

there goes our story
the writer's a sinner
the end came too soon
she's got nothing left in her
nothing left in her

lets throw it on the ground
and never pick it up again

lets throw it on the ground
and never pick it up again

lets throw it on the ground
and never pick it up again

again..

never pick it up again

there goes our story
the writer's a sinner
the end came too soon
she's got nothing left in her

there goes our story
the writter's a sinner
she crushed this thing
******
our first song, about hoping for someone to love you


Walang masulat pinipilit ang sariling mag isip
kung tama ba
Ayoko man aminin 'to
pero wala naman talaga akong pagasa sa iyo

Paulit ulit sa'king isip ang iyong mga sinabing wala na,
akong magagawa
may ngiti sa iyong labi na bumubulong sa aking wag ko nang,
ipagpatuloy pa

Refrain:
pero sabi ko sa sarili ko kahit na anong sabihin mo
pipilitin ko pa rin ang gusto ko
kahit na magmukhang gago sa harap ng mga tao

Chorus:
Dahil ayoko na sanang umasa pa
pero kung yun lang ang tanging paraan
para mapasaakin ka ay gagawin wag ka lamang mapunta sa iba

hindi mapigil ang sariling maluha kapag nakikita kitang
kasa-kasama siya
kung meron man akong gustong gawin
ito ay ang lumapit at yakapin ka kahit nandyan pa siya

Bridge: hindi ko naman pinipilit ang sarili ko sa iyo
hindi ko naman hinahangad maging yakap yakap mo
ang sakin lang naman sana'y tanggapin mo ang pag-ibig kong ito
ito lang ang tanging hinihiling ko sayo

Dingding

Isang mahinang tawa ng babae ang narinig niya mula sa kabilang kuwarto. Napatigil ang lalaki sa kanyang ginagawang pagbabasa. Ilang linggo na rin siyang umuukupa sa kuwartong iyon ngunit ngayon lamang niya napansin ang bagong lipat sa kabilang silid. Madalas itong tahimik. Sa kanyang pagkakaalam, siya lamang ang umuupa sa palapag na iyon. Maaring dahil sa isturktura ng gusali, lumang-luma na at amoy amag. Ngunit maaari ng pagtiyagaan lalo na kung ganito kamura ang upa.

Nakatapos ang lalaki ng isang buong kabanata sa libro ngunit hindi na muli niya naulinigan ang boses.

Babae ang bagong lipat, sigurado niya sa sarili.

Dingding lamang ang pagitan nila. Isang mahinang istruktura na gawa sa mumurahing tisa na maaring pagtagusan ng anumang uri ng tunog. Walang pwedeng mailihim maging ang pinakamahinang bulong.

Nagtaka ang lalaki sa katahimikang naramdaman kaya’t nagpasya siyang ipagpaliban ang pagbabasa. Ibinaba ang libro saka humikab. Pinagmasdan niya ang nababakbak na pintura sa kisame. Gusto niyang tungkabin ito isa-isa. Alisin ang mga nakausling animo mapuputing balakubak sa sahig, kiskisin, at muling pakintabin. Ngunit hindi pumayag ang kanyang isip. Masisira ang nakagawian na niyang disenyo ng silid na animo’y napag-iwanan ng panahon.
Umayos siya ng upo sa kama na tila ba may kung anong bagay na paparating siyang inaasahan. Kinapa ng kanyang mga paa ang tsinelas na goma sa ilalim ng kama at saka muling inayos ang sarili.

“Hayan na siya.” Mahina niyang bulong.

Sa pangalawang pagkakataon ay naulinigan niya ang mahinang tawa ng babae. Tumayo ang lalaki at agad na idinikit ang pisngi sa dingding, di alintana ang magaspang na haplos ng nababakbak nitong pintura. Naghintay siya. Bigla uling sumaklot ang labis na katahimikan. Bigla siyang kinabahan. Tila malapit lamang ang babaeng hinahangad. Walang dingding, walang pagitan.

Bumalik ang lalaki sa pagkakaupo sa kama. Ingit lamang nito ang maririning sa buong silid. Bigla ay nanginig ang buo niyang kalamnan. May gusto siyang gawin ngunit tila napako siya sa puwesto. May kung anong bagay ang pumipigil sa kanya.

Inapuhap niya ang kaha ng sigarilyo sa lumang tukador, ang kanyang tanging sagot sa mga ganitong pagkakataon. Mula sa madilim na kuwarto ay gumuhit ang sindi ng dilaw na liwanag mula sa posporo. Agad niya itong inilapit sa sigarilyo na nakasuksok sa kanyang bibig at saka humithit.

Hindi ito miminsang nangyari sa kanya. Hindi lang sa lumang gusali gaya ng kinaroroonan niya ngayon. Kahit saan. Hindi lamang miminsan.

Limang beses siyang humithit bago nagpasyang iangat ang kanyang mukha sa kinaroroonan ng bagong dating. Kanina pa niya naramdaman ang pagpasok nito. At kanina pa siya hinihintay. Pagka-angat na pagka-angat ng mukha ay nasalubong niya ang mata ng bagong bisita.
Seryoso itong nakatunghay sa kanya. Tila masusing pinag-aaralan ang kanyang mukha, ang kanyang buong pagkatao.

Ang liwanag mula sa malamlam na buwan lamang ang nagsisilbing ilaw sa silid. Siya at ang babae na kanina lamang ay naulinigan niya sa kabilang silid.
Nag-alangan ang lalaki. Muli siyang humithit sa sigarilyo at saka matamang pinagmasdan ang kaharap.

Bagamat maputla ang itsura ng babae, walang duda sa angkin nitong kagandahan. Tila isang aparisyon. Kamukha niya si Audrey Hepburn, yun agad ang unang rumihistro sa utak niya.
Hindi niya mawari ang reaksyon ng babae, gaya niya, nakatunghay din ito sa kanya. Dati, sa isang tingin pa lamang niya ay alam na niya agad ang pinanggalingan ng mga katulad nila. Isang tingin pa lamang ay nababasa na niya ang nakaraang buhay nito. Ang nakaraan, dating estado sa buhay, ang pinagmulan, maging ang trahedya na pinagdaanan. Ngunit hindi ngayon. Nahirapan siyang basahin ang kaharap. Tila may makapal na ulap na nakaharang sa kanya. Nagsisilbing proteksyon laban sa mga katulad niya. Mahirap sisirin.

“Hindi kita gusto.” Mahina ngunit malinaw na usal ng babae. Hindi pa rin nito inaalis ang pagtitig sa lalaki.

Hindi agad nakuha ng lalaki ang binitiwang salita ng kausap. Napakunot siya ng noo.

“Maaari akong manggulo kapag hindi ka umalis dito. Marami akong pwedeng gawin. Nauna ako sayo kaya dapat na iakw ang umalis.”

Nakuha na ng lalaki ang ibig nito. Hindi na ito bago sa kanya. Sa dami ng gusali na tinirhan at nilapaatan niya, hindi iisang beses siyang napalayas. Hindi iisang beses siyang nakipagtuos.
Nagtiim ng bagang ang lalaki at tumayo mula sa kinauupuang kama. Tumalikod siya sa may bintana kung saan naroon ang buwan upang tanging ang madilim na pigura lamang niya ang makikita.

Nagbago din ng posisyon ang babae. Umupo ito sa sahig, na tila ba hindi alintana ang tama sa solidong materyales. Nilaro-laro nito ang nakatihayang ipis sa sulok. Tila naghihitay sa pasya ng lalaki.

“Hindi ako aalis dito.” Sa huli ay turan ng lalaki.

Biglang nagbago ang reaksyon ng babae. Tumayo ito at lumapit sa lalaki. Lumulutang ang magaan niyang katawan sa hangin. Akmang sasaktan ang kaharap. Ngunit sa halip na sampal ay dumapo ang malamig na hangin sa kanyang pisngi. Lamig na nagdulot ng labis na kilabot sa kanyang buong katawan. Sapol ang tiyan, napaluhod ang lalaki. Parang bigla siyang nahulog sa isang napakalalim na bangin at nauubusan siya ng hininga.

Humakbang ang babae papalayo, patungo sa tahimik at malamig na dingding. Sa gayong anyo ay alam na ng lalaki ang mangyayari.

“Muli na naman akong makikipagtunggali,” usal niya sa sarili.

Ako, Loofah at relasyon

Nung bata ako naalala ko nung pinapaliguan ako may bimpo silang ginagamit, pangkuskos. Tapos nagtagal, labakara naman kasi nakalakihan ko na yung bimpo. Pero nang tuluyang tumanda at nagkabuhok na sa iba't ibang parte ng katawan syempre ako na lang mag-isa nagpapaligo sa akin. Simula nun natuto akong mag-eksperimento sa katawan ko.

Naisip ko ayoko ng maglabakara pang kuskos. Gusto ko sabon na lang. Nakakatamad kasi. Kaya sabon lang ng sabon wala ng kuskos. Oks lang naman ang pakiramdam. Medyo may natitirang libag, pero at lis mabilis ang paligo ko. At ganun nga ang aking naging prakits. Ngunit nagbago to nung isang araw nakitira yung tito ko sa amin sandali.

Isang hapon nakita ko syang parang may hinahanap sa bakuran. Linapitan ko at tinanong kung ano ang hinahanap nya. Naghahanap daw sya ng panghilod. Isang batong magaspang. Medyo nandiri ako nung una sa sinasabi nya. E may mga tae ng aso dun tapos mga kung anu-anong bulate sa lupa tapos ikikiskis mo sa katawan mo. Sabi naman nya, pakukuluan nya naman daw muna. Makakatulong daw yun para magpantay yung kulay ng balat. At ayun, dalawa na kaming naghahanap ng mahiwagang bato.

Ngunit isang araw nung maliligo na ako, hindi ko mahanap ang aking panghilod. Hinanap ko sa buong bahay ngunit wala. Habang ako'y nagmumukmok sa isang tabi, nilapitan ako ng nanay ko. Sabi nya, "Anak, yung bato ba ang hinahanap mo?" Tumango ako ng konti. "Itinapon na ng tatay mo. Hindi daw nararapat sa katawan mo ang bato." sabi nya. Tumayo ako na para bang nagdadabog. "Anak, unawain mo ang tatay mo. Ang gusto nya lang ay ang makabubuti sa yo.

May mahahanap ka pang ibang mas tama para sa iyo." malumanay nyang sinabi sa akin. Simula nun parang may napakalaking kulang na sa buhay ko na pilit kong hinahanap.

Isang araw, napadaan kami sa isang beauty shop na pang mayaman. Di sana ako papasok dun kasi di ko naman lebel ang mga ganung shop. Ngunit ninakaw ang pansin ko ng isang napakagandang loofah na nakadisplay. Tinanong ko sa saleslady kung magkano. Sobrang mahal ng presyo. Ngunit kailangan kong makuha ito. Kaya't nangutang ako at inubos ang mga naipon ko para makuha ko ang loofahng ito. Sabi ng mga kaibigan ko hindi daw tama ito para sa kin. Pang mayaman lang daw, high maintainance. Pero di nila ko mapipigil.

At buong giliw kong ginamit ang bago kong loofah pang exfoliate sa aking balat tuwing naliligo. Nung mga unang araw masarap sya sa katawan. Ngunit nang tumagal, gumagasgas na sa balat. Binasa ko ang instrakyon manwal, at ayun. Kailangan pala mamahaling liquid soap lang ang gamitin. Wala na kong pera pambili. Tama ang mga kaibigan ko. Nang lumaon, nasira ng tuluyan ang mahal kong loofah at nagkagalos-galos ang balat ko.

Nakitira ako sandali sa bahay ng kaibigan ko. Nung maliligo na ako, napansin ko ang isang napakagandang loofah na nakasampay sa banyo. Nung una, ayokong paunlakan ang temtasyon. Ngunit hindi ko talaga napigilan at ginamit ko ang loofah. At ang sarap gamitin ng loofahng iyon. Wala na kong ibang naisip na mas tatama pa sa loofahng yun. Ngunit alam ko na ibang tao ang may-ari nun. At darating at darating ang araw na malalaman nya na ginagamit ko ang pag-aari nya. Kaya masakit man sa damdamin, itinigil ko ang paggamit sa loofah at tuluyang lumipat ng matitirhan.

Natuto akong mamuhay ng walang loofah. Mahirap nung una. Pero naging ayos naman nung tumagal. Nang isang araw, sa paborito kong tindahan, ayun ang isang loofah. Hindi kamahalan, pero hindi rin ganun ka-cheap. Nung una naisip ko parang ayaw ko na. Ayoko nang masaktan. Masaktan ang balat. Ngunit ganun talaga, eventually binili ko rin at ginamit. At sa wakas naramdaman ko na ito na talaga ang tama para sa akin. Pati ang magulang ko natuwa para sa akin. Alam nila na nahanap ko na ang loofahng para sa akin.

Isang umaga pagkatapos ng isa't kalahating taon, nang ako'y maliligo na. Pagbukas ko ng banyo. Nawawala ang loofah ko.

If you received this in your email, its just copied from me

Nakakatawa talaga ang love. Isa siyang napakalaking oxymoron. Lahat ng pwede mong masabi sa kanya, baliktarin mo at totoo pa rin. Ang labo di ba? Pero ang linaw.

Masaya magmahal. Malungkot magmahal. Di mo naiintindihan pero naiintindihan mo. Walang rason. Maraming rason. Di mo na kaya, pero kaya mo pa rin. Masakit magmahal. Pero okey lang. Leche, ano ba talaga?!

May kaibigan ako, sabi niya dati "Love is only for stupid people." Nakakatawa kasi laude ang standing niya, pero dumating ang panahon, na-in-love din ang hunghang. At ayun, tanga na siya ngayon. Lahat kasi ng nahahawakan ng love nagiging oxymoron din. O kaya paminsan, nagiging moron lang.

Hindi lang kasi basta baliktaran ang pag-ibig. Lahat ng bagay nababaligtad din niya. Lahat ng malalakas na tao, humihina. Ang mayayabang, nagpapakumbaba. Ang mga walang pakialam, nagiging Mother Teresa. Ang mga henyo, nauubusan ng sagot. Ang malulungkot, sumasaya. Ang matitigas, lumalambot. (At tumitigas din ang mga bagay na madalas nama'y malambot.)

Nakakatawa talaga. Lalo na kapag dumadating siya sa mga taong ayaw na talaga magmahal. Napansin ko nga eh. Parang kung gusto mo lang ma-in-love ulit, sabihin mo lang ang magic words na "Ayoko na ma-inlove!" biglang WACHA! Ayan na siya. Nang-aasar. Magpapaasar ka naman.

Di ba nakakatawa rin na pagdating sa problema ng ibang tao, ang galing-galing mo? Pero 'pag problema mo na yung pinag-uusapan parang nawawalan ng saysay lahat ng ipinayo mo dun sa namomroblemang tao? Naiisip mong wala namang mali dun sa mga sinabi mo. Pero bakit parang wala ring tama?

Bali-baliktad din ang nasasabi ng mga taong tinamaan ng madugong pana ng pag-ibig. "Ngayon ko lang nalaman ganito pala. Sabi ko na eh!" "Ang sarap mabuhay. Pwede na 'ko mamatay. Now na!"

At hindi lang 'yon. Ang sarap din pagtawanan ng mga taong alam naman nilang masasaktan lang sila eh magpapatihulog pa rin sa bangin ng pag-ibig. Tapos 'pag luray-luray na yung puso nila, siyempre hindi sila yung may kasalanan. Siya! "Bakit niya 'ko sinaktan?" May kasama pang pagsuntok sa pader yon, at pagbabagsak ng pinto. Hayop talaga.

Mauubos ang buong magdamag ko kakasabi ng mga bagay na nakakatawa 'pag pag-ibig na ang pinag-usapan. Ang daming beses ko na kasi siyang nakasalubong kaya masasabi ko nang eksperto na 'ko. Pero wala pa rin akong alam.

Pero ang pinakanakakatawa sa lahat ay ang katotohanang kapag gusto magpatawa ng pag-ibig, ipusta na mo na lahat ng ari-arian mo dahil siguradong ikaw ang punchline.

Nakakatawa no?

Nakakaiyak.

Isa lang ako

Minsan ko nang sinubukang bilangin ang mga tala
At lakarin ang hantungan ng dalampasigang lupa

Masyadong malawak ang langit upang maglaman lamang ng iilang bituwin
At masasayang lang ang tabing-dagat sa isang butil ng buhangin

Mula sa kinatatayuan ko
Pareho lamang ang alon at ang ulapWalang pinagkaiba ang langit at lupa
Iisa lamang ang gabi
Iisa lang ang umaga

Nag-iisa lang ako.

Sa dagat, maraming hugis ang buwan
Pabago-bago ang mukha ng kalawakan
Doon nagtatago ang araw upang maghimlay
Sa gitna ng dilim at bukang-liwayway

Hindi na ako nasisilaw sa titig ng araw
O pilit naghahabol sa buntot ng bulalakaw

Dito sa kinatatayuan ko
Sa duyan ng alon at ng ulap
Sa anino ng langit at lupa
Isa lamang ang gabi
Isa lang ang umaga

Isa lang ako.

no one will believe me

No one would believe I touched the moon.

You are not one who would kiss the earth. Your life is spent dancing with the stars. And you know nothing but warmth in the cradle of the sky.

Hovering over the world
giving it light upon the night
always there yet never quite.

Long have I looked upon your face, one I never thought I would recognize. Mocked by the length of day, I would whisper lullabies to the wind, begging the world to fall asleep. So that you would return and I could once again serenade you with my gaze.

Even I was caught by surprise when finally you smiled back at me. For I am one used to the stifling solitude that is my destiny. So much that I find comfort in absolute stillness and only find my way in blinding darkness. That was how I fell in love with the night and come to know you.

And so it was that with a wicked twist of fate, or maybe it was just my strange fixation with pain, that I found myself yearning for nothing but a place in the heavens with you. It is a ridiculous impossibility only a recluse of my naive tolerance for tragedy could find absolute fascination in.

I therefore cannot blame the world, even with all my malice, for not being able to undersand. For I also can never come to terms with how they can fail to stumble in the dark because of your gentle light and never give you so much as simple acknowledgement of your presence. And I want to laugh for I was at least less occupied with my shadow to look to the reason it was cast.

No one will understand. And so it is no surprise that no one will find it less easier to believe that not only did I touch the moon but that you touched me back. And you did more than just that. You enfolded me with your passion and wooed me with poetry that would humble romance itself.

But the universe is as it would, and even Mother Nature will not find it in her heart to find me a spot in the infinite sky near you. So that the only way for us to be together is for you to leave your home in the heavens. But as much as I want to spend the rest of my waking moments with the whole of your being, I can never bear the thought of tearing you away from the sky. The world will never hear a word of it but I know you're ready to return all your light to the sun because you believe in the humility of my tiny glow. Nevertheless, we choose to stick it out where we are placed--tormentingly distant from each other.We both know that the world will blame me if you do step down to earth. And just like me, it pains you more to be the cause of that suffering than to have to wait for eternity to end just watching me from afar.

And so we wept our own goodbyes. I promise to keep singing love letters to the wind hoping the breeze of my heart will reach you. And you vow to always shower me with light enough to fill the world, knowing I'm there, awake in the slumber of our fate.

So it is that the world will end and they never would believe that everything is the way they all want it to be because of our great sacrifice. No one would ever believe because no one will ever know. They would hear my soulful songs and feel the footsteps of your light among them but they will never know that you are the notes of my melodies and I'm the reason you look upon the earth.

No one will ever believe I touched the moon.

Sabi ni LOLA

Ang sabi ng Lola lahat daw ng tao makasalanan, mapamatanda o kapapanganak na sanggol. Ang mga nakakapunta lang daw sa langit ay yong mga pinagpala ng Diyos at nagmimilagro sa lupa, samakatuwid, isang santo. Kapag hindi raw nagsisimba, nangungumpisal sa pari, hindi nagdarasal ng rosaryo, basta hindi pa nakakapatay ng tao lalo na’t katoliko’y sa purgatoryo mapupunta. Ang mga hindi naman katoliko, diretsong impyerno. Noon, naisip kong buti na lang katoliko ako.

Ang sabi ni lola, santo lang daw ang kapag namatay diretsong langit, lahat daw ng katoliko, pag namatay dadaan muna sa purgatoryo, kailangan pa kasing makaipon ng maraming dasal mula sa mga buhay para mapayagan ang isang kaluluwa na pumisan kasama ng Diyos. Naisip ko noon na kawawa naman ang mga taong kinalimutan na ng mga kamag-anak nila, matatagalan ang pasaporte nila patungong langit. Mabuti na lang marami akong kamag-anak na pwedeng manalangin sa akin.

Ang sabi ni lola, kapag namatay daw ako, sa purgatoryo ang punta ko. Ok lang daw yon dahil marami namang tao sa purgatoryo, para lang rin daw “earth”, halos walang pinagkaiba sa “lugar ng mga buhay”. Hindi nga lang daw ginto ang mga kalsada. Naisip ko na hindi kaya magkaroon ng over-population sa purgatoryo dahil andaming tao na napupunta doon, ang konti naman ng umaakyat sa langit. Ok lang daw yon, malawak naman ang purgatoryo.

Ang sabi ni lola, sa langit doon mo mararanasan ang tunay na kaligayahan. Sa impyerno naman ay walang hanggang paghihirap at kaparusahan. Doon susunugin ang kaluluwa at kakainin ng mga hindi namamatay na uod. Naisip ko lang, pwede bang sabay yon, masunog at kainin ng uod? Astig!

Patay na ang lola ko. At ako, hindi na katoliko. Hindi na ako nagsisimba, nangungumpisal sa pari, nagdarasal ng rosaryo, marami na rin akong binalak na patayin sa isipan ko, at minsan ko na ring sinubukang patayin ang sarili ko. Sabi ng lola mapupunta raw ako sa impyerno, nakakatakot no?

Masusunog ako at kakainin ng mga uod ang katawan ko ng habang buhay, tutusok-tusukin ng mga demonyo ng malaking tinidor at lalatigohin, paulit-ulit, isang habambuhay na sakit.

Punyeta!

Napagod na siguro akong matakot, mag-isip ng masama sa kahihinatnan ng kaluluwa ko. Napagod na ako sa kakaisip kung paano ako magiging santo, at kakapraktis para makagawa ng milagro. Hindi ko kayang mag-levitate o magpagaling ng tao, o kausapin ang mga hayop, o maging ermitanyo’t pumunta ng bundok at makita ang mga santo o si Mama Mary or Papa Jesus. Nahihirapan na akong magpakabuti, dahil inaabuso lang rin naman ako. Bakit ba kailangan kung ibaling ang kanan kong pisngi kapag sinampal ako sa kaliwa, pwede ko naman syang sapakin, o kaya’y paduguin ang ilong? Bakit ba kailangan kung ipagdasal ang mga namatay, e sayang lang naman sa oras yon, hindi ko naman sila kilala? Bakit ba gusto kung pumunta sa langit, kung ok naman sa purgatoryo? Ba’t ba ako takot sa impyerno?

Matapos ang isang malalim na pagiisip, isang buwan, dalawang buwan, tatlong buwan, hanggang umabot ang isang semestre ng kakaisip at kakapukpok ng ulo sa pader hanggang dumugo, nagising ako.

Eto ako ngayon, isang ateyista (atheist) at masaya.

Ang sabi ng Lola, ang mga ateyista raw satanista! Eto lang ang masasabi ko sa Lola ko, isang malaking “ASA!”

An Ode to a Broken Promise

You were always curious how it felt like to drown. There was a time that you felt death and that you can't do anything to stop the darkness that looms over your face. You've always been with your sandman, dreaming of the bloody Neverland, always dreaming. And you know that it was just an escape.

You were always afraid of that man on dark suit, afraid he might cut your throat and that blood would gush out, your red thick blood flowing and drenching your shirt. You were always afraid someone might stab you behind your back, that when you look back you'll find no one but your shadow. You saw a guy once on top of a building and seating at its railings and you insanely thought that he might just slip and fall crushed on the sidewalk right in front of you. Ever thought he might just fall on top of you?

And every time you see a person smile you'd never feel the warmth--instead you'd feel fear creeping inside you thinking that that smiling guy is a freak serial killer and that he is after you. You thought you might be on drugs, but then you're sure you're not 'cause you just checked your drug exam that morning and it says negative --- or maybe they were mistaken and you just forgot? And you asked yourself when was the last wild party you attended and you just can't remember. And you'll say Fuck!

You felt that your world was an upside down world and that everyone around you were sick, and you were the only sane guy. You felt that every single person on the road was there to hit your car so you'd drive slow and safe but eager to put the gear on its high speed the moment a psycho skids to your direction.
You felt like running, trying to shake your shadow, but the fucking thing keeps on following you and you say "shit, shit and shit!"

You felt trapped in a world that has gone haywire and you suddenly felt like you wanted to puke just like your first ride in a roller coaster.

And you felt like crying? You were so afraid of being alone and your world was just too heavy.

Someone told you that 'reality bites' and you said "Sh#t! Bite my ass! I know I'm strong for any kind of sh#t!" And you knew you were going to eat your words. You sunk in mire and you hear someone says that anyone who is really down has only one direction left--the way UP! And you wanted to punch the guy to his face thinking he would never understand that you're already drowning! You knew that there was so much pain inside you and you so much wished for it to all stop. And it was the first time you thought of death and the many ways of dying.

And you bought yourself a blade and thought of cutting your wrist --- and once you heard that doing it quick is painless, just be sure to cut the right vein and to cut deep. You looked for that blue vein you've heard, the right spot, and aimed your blade. Funny that you've waited for a grand light to stop you, maybe this time God will send one of his angels just like the ones you've heard during your bible reading classes when you were a kid--you waited and waited but there wasn't any. Your eyes were filled with tears you can hardly see. Except you knew you must and that it was too much.

...

And you did what was expected. You quit. I know you would, one day. You were alone and there was no reason to live. Pity!

Maybe one day I'll follow. Until then, and we would both wait for the world to laugh and say pity...One day they'll follow and yes, to our grave. And we will both laugh in our misery. Maybe you're right, our world is upside down and nothing is real.

How much we want to wait for that grand light and so afraid it will not come, and all we can say is shit, shit and shit!

Isang araw habang umuulan at ikaw ay lumisan

Dalawang oras ka nang nakatitig sa blankong papel. Hindi pala madaling simulan ang isang artikulong tungkol sa wakas.

Saan ka nga ba maaaring magsimula?

Sa simula? Naaalala mo pa ba ang simula? Hindi na. Gaano man kahiwaga, ang simula ay nalilimot, nawawalan ng saysay dahil sa napipintong katapusan. Makabubuti lamang ang pag-uungkat sa nakaraan kung may bukas na yayapos sa iyo upang pawiin ang pangamba. Dahil kung wala, ang tanging magagawa ng simula ay ipaalala ang simula ng wakas.

Simulan mo kaya sa dahilan? Hindi rin pwede. Ang pinanghahawakan mo lang ay ang sino, ano, saan at kailan. Sadyang mailap ang bakit; may mga bagay na habang pilit iniintindi ay lalong nagiging mahirap maunawaan. O baka naman nasa harap mo na ang sagot. Ayaw mo lang itong paniwalaan kaya't pilit mong isinasantabi ang tanong na bumabagabag sa iyo. Hindi mo masisisi ang iyong sarili. Mahirap tanggapin na ang mga katotohanang nagpasaya sa mga araw mo ay panggagago.

Kung gayon, bakit hindi mo simulan sa ulan? Sa ulang hindi mo naman hiniling at dumating sa panahong hindi mo inaasahan. Sa ulang nagpakita sa iyong maaari kang tumingala sa langit at tumayo sa gitna ng kalsada, habang nilulunod ng mga patak ng tubig ang iyong kasuotan at mga gamit.

Tama. Sa ulan. Binago ka ng ulan.

Itinuro sa iyo ng ulan na ang mga tao sa buhay mo ay darating at aalis kung kailan nila gusto. Wala kang magagawa. Hindi mo sila mapipilit na manatili. Hindi mo sila mapipigilang lumisan. Titila ang bawat ulan. Hindi nito sasabihin kung kailan, pero mararamdaman mo ang paglumanay ng hangin at ang paghawi ng mga ulap.

Ang maiiwan ay ikaw... at isang puwang.

Ang pangungulila ay hindi nag-uugat sa paglisan, kundi sa pamamaalam. Ang isang taong pinahahalagahan mo ay maaaring magpaalam nang hindi umaalis, subalit maaari rin siyang umalis nang hindi nagpapaalam. Paunti-unti. Dahan-dahan. Patuloy ang pagtakbo ng buhay sa kanya, habang sa iyo, dumarating sa bawat araw ang kapiraso ng wakas.

Minsan tuloy, naiisip mong mas maigi pang matapos na lang ang lahat sa simula. Nang sa gayon, walang pinagkatagu-tagong text message na kailangang burahin, walang mga sandaling dapat ibaon sa limot at walang puwang na palalalimin ng pangungulila.

Nakapapagod maghintay kung kailan muling mapupunan ang puwang na tanging ikaw ang nakadarama. Mas madali itong pag-ipunan ng galit at pagkamuhi.

Pero hindi mo gagawin iyon. Hahayaan mo lang na dumaloy sa iyong pisngi ang mga luha at kahuli-hulihang patak ng ulan. Alinman ang unang maubos, ikaw ay patuloy na tatayo sa gitna ng daan.

Maghihintay. Aasa.

Dahil kahit maging balewala ka na sa isang tao, mananatili siyang importante sa iyo.

Patikim ng Libro

Kapag kakain ng libro, huwag maging pihikan; tikman ang lahat ng pwedeng tikman at huwag agad aayaw.

Maaaring mapipilas na ang pabalat na natapunan ng kape at naninilaw na ang mga mapapanghing pahina, pero alalahaning hindi ang mga ito ang iyong nanamnamin kundi ang mga muni-muni ng may-akda. Huwag ding maniwala sa sabi-sabi; magkakaiba ang ating panlasa. Higit sa lahat, tandaan ang sinabi ni Anonymous: "Never judge a book by its movie."

Nasa sa iyo kung gaano mo kabilis isusubo ang mga salita, pero sana, pagtagalin ang mga ito sa bibig. Huwag kang lunok nang lunok ng mga ideya at kwento. Mahirap mabilaukan o matinik.

Dila-dilaan at nguyain nang mabuti ang mga tauhan upang mas malasahan mo ang pagkakaiba ng matamis, ng maasim at ng maanghang. Gayundin ang gawin sa mga opinyon hinggil sa isang isyu at sa mga taludtod ng tula.

Kung may oras ka, suriin kung paano niluto ng may-akda ang hawak mong libro. Usisain ang paraan ng paghahalu-halo ng mga simbolo at imahe. Huwag kang titigil hangga't hindi mo nalalaman kung bakit niya nahuli ang iyong panlasa. Dito mo matutuklasang may mga sahog na hindi lamang pandekorasyon, kundi pandagdag sa timpla at pampatakam sa iyo upang ubusin ang mga pahina.

Siyempre, maganda rin kung mararanasan mo ang mga pagkakataong tsibog ka lang nang tsibog, walang ibang iniintindi kundi ang pagguhit ng mga salita sa iyong lalamunan, hanggang sa magmakaawa ang iyong mga mata at mabusog ang iyong utak. Hindi naman kailangang seryosohin ang lahat ng bagay. Ang mahalaga, iyong nakukuha ang sustansiyang gusto mong makuha sa kinakain mong libro.

Sakali nga palang maubos na ang libro, pero nagugutom ka pa at wala ka nang pambili, matuto kang makikain. Huwag mahiya. Basta't kapag ikaw naman ang meron, magpakain ka rin. Nasa diskarte iyan kung gusto mong makarami.

Inaamin kong may mga librong masarap isuka: mga librong parte ng iyong pag-aaral o trabaho kaya't pinipilit mong sikmurain, mga librong sa ayaw at sa gusto mo eh kailangan mong harapin tuwing almusal, tanghalian at hapunan. Ganyan talaga. Ang maipapayo ko sa iyo, magpuslit ka na lang. Kumain ka ng mga paborito mong libro habang nagbabawas sa kubeta, nag-aabang ng barkada sa bookstore o naglilibang bago mag-exam. Lalong sumasarap kapag takas.

Hahanap-hanapin mo ang mga libro, kaya naman nakalulungkot ang katotohanang darating at darating ang araw na itatae mo ang mga nakain mo. Pero huwag kang mag-alala, hindi lahat ay nauuwi sa inodoro. May mga butil -- gaano man kaliit -- na manunuuot sa iyo. Mahirap malaman kung alin at saan. Magugulat ka na lang, dahil isang araw, magigising ka at iyong mapagtatanto: ang bahagi ng libro ay bahagi mo na pala.

Ano nga ba ang kasiyahan?

Kung papipiliin ka, ikaw ba ay isang mabuting tao na paminsan-minsan ay nakakagawa ng masama, o isang masamang tao na paminsan-minsan ay nakakagawa ng mabuti?

Ako? Yung pangalawa ang sagot ko. Kasi pag ang tingin ko sa sarili ko ay mabuti, malulungkot lang ako tuwing makakagawa ako ng masama. Pero pag ang tingin ko sa sarili ko ay masama, matutuwa ako tuwing makakagawa ng mabuti sa ibang tao.

At maganda yun dahil sawa na akong malungkot.

Kailangan ba talagang isaalang-alang ang ibang tao bago mo masabing dapat ka ngang maging masaya? Hindi ka ba pwedeng maging masaya, dahil lang gusto mong maging masaya?

Bakit maraming taong mahilig makialam sa kaligayahan ng iba? Malamang dahil iniisip nilang wala kang karapatang maging masaya. Pero mas malamang na wala kasing nagpapasaya sa buhay nila.

Mas napapasaya ka ba ng sarili mo? O ng ibang tao? Masama ba kung masaya ka sa buhay dahil sa mga nagawa mo para sa sarili mo, at hindi dahil sa mga nagawa mo para sa ibang tao at mga nagawa ng ibang tao para sa iyo?

Hindi siguro masama, pero malungkot. Na lalong nagpapagulo sa usapan. Isipin mo, malulungkot ka dahil ikaw lang ang nagpapasaya sa iyo?

Babalikan mo ang mga bagay na bumuo ng mga araw mo sa loob ng maraming taon. Naging masaya ka nga ba? O niloko mo lang ang sarili mo na masaya ka?

Kung kailangan mo pang kumbinsihin ang sarili mo na dapat ka ngang maging masaya, paano mo masasabing masaya ka nga?

Kaya naman sisimulan mo ang paghahanap ng kaligayahan. Ikaw ay hihiling, maghihintay, aasa at mabibigo. Paulit-ulit. Ayos lang sa iyo. Tutal, pangako mo, kapag nahanap mo na ang hinahanap mo, magiging masaya ka na 'di ba?

Ang mahirap maintindihan, bakit kapag nasa harap mo na ang isang bagay na maaaring magpasaya sa iyo, saka ka naman magtatanong, "Ano ba ang nagawa ko, bakit dumating sa buhay ko ang magandang bagay na ito?" Maiisip mong hindi ka karapat-dapat, kaya't ikaw ay lalayo at muling maghahanap.

Ano nga ba ang hinahanap mo? Hindi mo ba napapansin na may mga bagay hindi hinahanap pero kusang nagagawi sa landas mo?

Kailan mo kaya maiisip na hindi mo kailangang maging espesyal na tao para dumating ang isang magandang bagay na babago sa iyo? Para iyon sa iyo, dahil ikaw ay ikaw. Hindi na kailangan ng dahilan. Bawat isa ay nararapat lang na maging masaya.

Sa halip tuloy na masaya ka na, pinalulungkot mo ang sarili mo sa pag-iisip kung paano ka nga ba sasaya.

The unacceptable truth

WE ARE PART OF THE SHITTY GOVERNMENT, WE ARE PART OF IT, SO STOP WHINING AND CHANGE FOR GOOD


Probably out of every Filipino in the Philippines, if asked "is the government corrupt?", would shout YES.

The sad thing about this is, YES it is. We see it in the news, the streets, offices pretty much everywhere. Especially in government sectors, you name it, they got some. Unfortunately for us, we got some greedy and abusive people in power that sucking us all to dry.

But if we ask you that "is it all their fault?", would you think?

Would you just say YES and keep on blaming JUST the government and think that you are a victim of this crappy system?

Here is a SADDER truth for all of us, WE are in part of this. WE are also to blame for as to why this corruption is now rampant as a virus killing everyone.

As weird and probably unbelievable as it sounds,but we are included in the BLAME list. Not just our government, but us as well.

We became part of this long before it started, and the worse

part is we let it grew this big and now we treat it as PART OF LIFE LIVING in the Philippines.

As a part of our SYSTEM that we go on.

We urge the government to change, yet step down on their positions to promote change. Which is basically true but, think about this.

IF WE CHANGE OUR LEADERS BUT WE DON'T CHANGE OUR WAYS, DOES IT MAKE A DIFFERENCE?

So, all those protest in the streets are useless if we don't impose change on ourselves first. "So what are we suppose to change anyway?"

WHY WE ARE TO BLAME?

Yes, as bad as it sounds, we are to blame as well. The reason is we TOLERATE the people in power, in doing what they shouldn't be doing.

BEING CORRUPT. Yes people protest in the streets but it is still not enough to encourage change that we really want. Because we still let the other people abuse their powers on us. The sad thing is, WE DO NOTHING BUT COMPLAIN to ourselves. What is complaining to ourselves gonna do? Time for us to change our living ways if we wanna push the government to change as well. It should start form us, and not wait for them because really... "Lions won't go hunting in a field without deers."

So what are the things we do as to why are we part of the blame... Well, here are some examples, and please don't act surprised after you read them because everybody knows this is

true and VERY VISIBLE!!!

HOW ARE WE A PART OF THE CRAPPY SYSTEM:

THE ADVENTURE OF THE TRAFFIC OFFICER

- We tolerate POLICE every time we are pulled over in the roads, streets,where ever, when they ASK MONEY from us and we're "off the hook" whatever our penalty is. If you say you hate corruption, you shouldn't be agreeing on this thing. Pretty much everyday someone get pulled over, this scenario happens. Most of the times THE DRIVERS initiate the "conversation" first.

Please, think about this...

THE "I DON'T WANNA WAIT." SYSTEM OF PROCESSING

- People complain about how government sectors are corrupt. And yet when people process their papers and documents on government sectors, they have to pay a FIXER. Now see this, people hate corruption and yet they don't mind to pay a fixed amount of money to "fast process" their papers, faster than the others who are LAWFULLY doing the process. Is it because they were to lazy and undisciplined to fall in line and wait? Is it because they are to dumb that they don't wanna take any exams regarding the document being filed. First of all, there's no guarantee if this "FIXER" can really "FIX" your papers or they're just trying to extort you. Second,If you support this kind of "processing" then you are PRO CORRUPTION.

Please think about this...

THE TRYING TO BE BLIND AND DEAF AND MUTE MAN

- A lot of people has been seeing THINGS in their local government that, well shouldn't be happening. A lot of people have been WAITING for things their local government promised to give and yet didn't happen. And yet a lot of people are BEING BLIND, DEAF and MUTE about it like they don't even care. But then you hear them complain about this and that, this is missing and this should not be here, and they spent too much money on this why only that came up, TO THEMSELVES! Here's the deal, we all have the right to know what's going on in our local government. If we are seeing things that shouldn't be happening, or not seeing things that SHOULD happen. We have the right to ask "what's going on?" The thing is people just act DUMBFOUNDED on it and JUST LETS IT GO. Talk about being on the side of corruption. And well all not that this is not just a government thing. Yes we are talking about private sectors too. They do this to their people as well and yet the people are just "nah..."

Please think about this...

IN OUR COUNTRY, CHEATERS WIN

- And in here, well it doesn't really need a whole lot of explanation. People hate corruption. But they cheat on taxes. They cheat on expenses. They cheat their documents. They kickback on money, money that should be for the use of good for the people. Worse of all, THEY CHEAT THEMSELVES.

By SELLING THEIR VOTES. Do we need to say more?

Please think about this...

And if you think it's just the government who's greedy, take a

good look at these.

THE NON GOVERNMENT'S

- The pirated CD's. Those unregistered public vehicles. Unlicensed products. Every time people patronize these is making it worse. Why do you think these CD's get into the country when it's illegal? Why do you think vans are getting pulled over by cops everyday. Why do you think that the LEGALLY permitted drivers and operators of businesses don't earn profit. Every thing unlicensed and unregistered anything that the people take advantage of causes a chain reaction to corruption.

Please think about this.

These are just some of a few examples that is still present in the Philippines. Everybody knows that there is more to it than this, but this should be enough to make you think and realize that WE REALLY ARE A PART of it. Are you thinking now?

Patawad

Ayokong hanapin mo ako dahil sa hindi mo ako makita, (malabo) dahil sa hindi mo ako maramdaman.(malabo pa rin)

Nitong nagdaang mga araw, nagbabago ako ng anyo. Isa akong yelo, na nakakulong sa bakal na puno ng kalawang. Hindi tumatakbo ang oras. Paano ako makakawala nang hindi natutunaw? Nang hindi nadudumhan?

Kung dumating ang oras na maghahanap ka, puntahan mo ang nagliliparang alikabok. Isa ako sa kanila. At kung sakaling mapuwing ka, isipin mong ako ang pumupuwing sa 'yo para di ka masaktan. Gusto kong maramdaman mo ang aking presensya nang hindi ako nakikita.

Kung madaan ka sa mga halaman, 'wag kang kukuha ni isang dahon man lang, baka ako ang iyong mapitas, malulungkot ako.

Pag ninais kong muling magbagong anyo, (ayoko pa) 'wag kang umasang makita ako, mag-iiba ako ng pormat disenyo.

Kung mapadaan ka sa umaagos na tubig, damhin mo iyon ng iyong mga palad. Wag mong punasan, isipin mo ako, hayaan mong matuyo at saka ako maglalaho.

Isipin mo lang akong tumatawa, tulad ng lagi kong ginagawa. Isipin mo lang akong tinotopak, at tawagin mo akong baliw, hindi pa rin ako masasaktan, tulad ng dati.

Hindi mo man ako makita, hindi ako lalayo. Magbago man ako ng anyo, ako pa rin ako. 'Wag mo na akong hanapin dahil hindi ako nagtatago, pero hindi ako magpapakita. Hayaan mong lumipas ang panahon...hanggang sa naisin kong ilapit ang langit sa aking puso...doon lang ako magiging malaya.




*hindi ako lumilimot, at hindi ako lilimot. gusto ko lang maglakbay ng walang anino...ng walang kasaysayan

para sa isang kaibigan. patawad.