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.


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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.”


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