Glutton For Fear

actually, i just slept for two hours. i woke up at around 4-ish, lappie still singing domino's alas quatro (how apt), the room was dark, and i was feeling sweat on my forehead.

great. brownout. (walang ganyan sa states!)

so i huddled to my pillows instead and tried to think of happy thoughts, hook my mind on the song playing. because i know if i didn't, my brain would run amok and play ghost stories over and over again.

like, the other night, ramil told this story which took place in UST about these two girls who were playing around in the morgue just before graduation. they were taking pictures and stuff, playing vogue with the dead bodies. one girl, feeling really adventurous and playful, placed herself in between two male corpses. she sat their bodies upright, put her arms on their shoulders, and posed for the camera.

a week after, the girl who posed was found dead, and the other girl, the one who took the picture, went nucking futs. but that's not the creepy part. oh no. the creepy part is when the picture was developed. in the picture, it was the girl who was dead, and the two male corpses were evidently alive, sneering eerily.

mother of god, i can't believe i typed that up.

so anyway, i kept on imagining that godawful story all the while. i had this image of a face hovering somewhere in the dark, ready to pounce upon hearing a peep from me.

i used to be scared of Ringu and The Exorcist the same way. i wasn't able to sleep in my own room for almost a week after watching those horrid, horrid films. (not by choice tho. my sadist friends made me go. they bribed me with promises of ice cream and chocolates and a bevy of beautiful boys.) i got over it by imagining Sadako and Linda Blair dancing to Always Something There To Remind Me.

maybe i should do the same to the two dead guys. and since there's two of them, i'll make them dance to The Macarena.

(shudders)

scarier.

Alas Quatro

my my... i didn't know i could be so nastily potty-mouthed. bleb. good thing great music cools me down. sigh. wouldn't it be nice to disappear and become a musical note?

been listening to this song on repeat every chance i get -- upon waking up this morning, while taking a bath, when i got home this afternoon, and until now. this is by eli buendia's sister, domino, from her album, fair tales. my widdle bug gave me a copy. i owe him hugs and kisses and multiple orgasms for introducing me. nyar har.

since the album didn't contain lyrics, i had to painfully transcribe the song. i hope i didn't make any mistakes.

--

kakagising ko lang
kaninang alas quatro
pagbangon ay saka lang napansin
dinaanan na ko ng liwanang

konting galaw lang
sumasakit na ang ulo
nasan na nga ba
ang pag-ihip ng hangin sa bintana?

dumaraan na lang ang buhay sa harap ko
mga pangarap ko'y nasa isang tabi na lang

dati ikaw
ang ilaw sa tabi ng kama
nasan na nga ba
ang ngiting bumabati sa umaga?

dumaraan na lang ang buhay sa harap ko
mga pangarap ko'y nasa isang tabi na lang

iniwan mong
bukas ang pintuan
nasan na nga ba?
dala mo lahat nang umalis ka

dumaraan na lang ang buhay sa harap ko
mga pangarap ko'y nasa isang tabi na lang...

Ang Sarap Maging Kontrabida

putanginang buhay to. human beings are so unreliable. ang hirap-hirap maasahan. ang hirap ispelengin ng utak. magsasabi ng isang bagay pero iba ang gagawin. sige. fine. i can't fully blame the person for not being able to meet what s/he promised. i understand there are a lot of factors involved. but still. with the advent of bloody mobile phones they could have at least let me know. or even leave a godfucking note on the fucking door for bloody fucking christ's sake.

kagabi nagsimula eh. babayaran na daw globe bill ko. so excited ako. kasi mga tatlong linggo na kong naging pasensyado. ambait-bait kong bata. ok lang. last week dapat bayad na kaya lang may nangyari atang kung ano sa standard chartered ni mother kaya hindi nabayaran lahat. isang linggo na lang daw ulit. ok lang. mabait naman ako e.

so eto na. isang linggo na. excited na ko. nag-txt na ko sa nanay ko saka sa kapatid ko, mga 6:30. papunta na ko ng ayala. sabi nila kasi mga alas-siete nila ko masusundo. pero sige, since sanay na ko kanila, binigyan ko na rin ng palugit. siguradong male-late sila ng mga 15-20 minutes. ok lang naman.

nakarating ako sa ayala mga 10 to 7. so nag-txt ulit ako. sabi ko andun na ko sa meeting place. sa may national bookstore. nagbasa-basa muna ko. naghihintay ako ng kahit anong reply, wala akong nakukuha. kahit sabihin man lang na nandun pa sila sa fort, o hinihintay pa ng nanay ko kapatid ko, o paalis na sila, o pwede bang bukas na lang magkita, ni ha ni ho wala akong natanggap na putanginang text. ano ba naman ang piso sa anak o kapatid, leche. so nagmissed call ako nang nag missed call.

finally after 47 years, tumawag ang magaling kong kapatid. mga 7:15. sabi niya mga 10 minutes na lang daw sila. sige. so great. 10 minutes. so basa ulit ako. basa, basa, basa, basa...

putek, 20 minutes na ah. nagsasara na ang hub! nag-txt kapatid ko. nagpapark na daw sila. leche. by that time sarado na hub. hindi na naman makakapagbayad. tumayo ako sa may escalator. balak ko na silang salubungin. nanggagalaiti na ko. dumating sila after another 20 minutes. knowing those two, nag-away pa yun on the way. bwisit talaga.

nung nakita ko nanay ko, hindi ko alam... sumabog na lang ako. parang sinagasaan ako ng beinte unong taong pagdadrama niya. beinte unong taong parati na lang silang dalawang nale-late. beinte-unong taong parati na lang akong pinaghihintay. mababaw na kung mababaw pero sobrang naging pasensyado kong tao. parati na lang ok lang. parating sige, bukas na lang, o sa isang linggo na lang. parati na lang akong mabait. kagabi hindi ko na natiis. sumigaw na talaga ko. kailangan kong ipaalam sa buong mundo na hindi ako ok at hindi ok ang nangyayari sakin. hindi ok na naghihintay ako. hindi ok na nangangako at hindi tinutupad.

hindi naman sa pagbayad yun ng bill ko sa telepono eh. i could care less kung mawalan ako ng telepono. para naman kasing may nagtetext sakin. ang ikinaaasar ko e yun na lang parating ako ang naghihintay, nagpapasensya. nakakaasar na. hindi madaling maghintay.

sometimes i think my life is one big waiting shed. parati na lang akong naghihintay. parati na lang may dumadating, nakikiupo, makikipag-usap sandali, at aalis. parati na lang akong naiiwan. nakakaburat na.

so umuwi akong mag-isa. iniwan ko silang mag-ina. ang sarap maging kontrabida...

--

pero teka, hindi pa tapos ang kwento. kanina dapat lunch makikipagkita ko sa kaibigan ko for lunch sa mongolian barbecue place sa UM. matagal-tagal na ring di ako nakakakain dun. so i was so looking forward to it. we were supposed to meet at one. so mga 12:30 nagbibihis na ko. after that, punta ko kena oscar. i called him up nung umaga to tell him pupunta ko sa kanila ng 3 and we can work on his site then. sabi niya he'll be there. sinigurado kong andun sya kasi walang siyang cel. so hindi ko maco-contact.

nang palabas na ko ng bahay, hinarang ako ng pinsan kong medyo dense din naman. may ipapaprint daw siya. ako naman, ok lang. since sandali lang naman yun. so i ushered her in, opened my lappie, and plugged the usb printer in. then she gave me a list of scribbled notes and a quick outline. sabi ko, "ano to?"

"yung ipapaprint ko sayo."

kinabahan na ko. "ha?"

"nahanap ko sa internet. sa google ba yun?"

"ah, so pupunta ko sa site tapos ipiprint ko?"

"oo."

tinignan ko ulit yung notes. naghahanap ako ng http o www o kahit dot man lang. tangina. kinabahan ako. walang kahit anong url na nakalagay. "nasan na yung site address?" tanong ko.

"anong site address?"

puta sabi na nga ba... "yung http. o www..."

"ay... yun ba dapat yung sinulat ko...? nakuha ko lang to sa google kasi eh..." while handing me the note and backing off slowly.

ano pa nga naman magagawa ko. siguro naman sandali ko lang mahahanap tong mga sites. google lang naman ang pinaka-reliable sa lintek na mundong ito. so my fingers whizzed and typed and saved and typed and saved again. in ten minutes i finished finding everything except one. damnit, it's always the last one. i looked at the clock. 10 minutes to 1. ok. i'll be a bit late, but i'm sure my friend won't mind. "ate, isa na lang. sigurado kang tama tong sinulat mo?"

"ha? bakit wala? andyan yun kahapon ah. may butterflies pa nga eh..." she said, looking over my shoulder. "sandali nga tabi ka muna dyan, ako maghahanap."

the bitch grabbed me with her manicured claws and literally and forcefully pulled me from the chair, away from my lappie. rar. pero sige. ok lang. mabait naman ako. mahaba pasensya ko. hindi ako magagalit. male-late ako nang kaunti pero maiintindihan ng kaibigan ko yun.

so nagpunta muna ko sa tindahan. kumuha ng chichirya to pass the time. after 20 minutes, balik ako sa pinsan ko. aba! nag-e-email na!

"ate... kailangan ko nang umalis..."

"ay sandali lang! may naalala kasi ako kailangan din i-print..."

so tahimik na lang ako...

tahimik... tahimik... tahimik... tahimik...

"o, tapos na. sige, sa labas ko na lang ipiprint. paki-save na lang sa diskette." haaaay... narinig ng kung sinong diyos ang sigaw ko sa wakas. isang oras na nakalipas. kawawa naman kaibigan ko. hindi ko ma-txt kasi wala ring cel. so nagpadala na lang ako ng offline message sa yahoo. sobrang sorry talaga ko. (at least ako marunong mag-sorry.)

so papunta na ko kena oscar. as usual, mainit ang biyahe. masikip sa jeep, at murder ang pagsakay sa lrt. pagkababa ko sa blumetritt, mainit pa rin. mausok pa. mabaho pa kasi sa may palengke yun. pero ok lang. at least makakahinga na ko ng sama ng loob. pinagkakatiwalaan ko si oscar sa mga bagay na yun. kahit ba puro reklamo na lang kami sa buhay, at least hindi kami nagpapalastikang maging optimist. ang saya maging bading pagka kasama si oscar.

so tiniis ko ang usok ng maynila at quezon city, at ang masangsang na amoy ng mga baboy sa laloma kasi i get to have fun after naman.

or so i thought.

when i got to oscar's place, i called him up. just to let him know andun na ko. after 5 rings kinabahan ako. walang nasagot. omg. baka wala siya. i called again. wala pa ring sumasagot. i knocked. and knocked. and knocked. and knocked louder. wala pa rin. oh my. this is turning out to be a really bad movie. syempre makulit ako tumawag pa rin ako kahit alam kong walang sasagot. para lang magmukhang may ginagawa ako. nasa harap ba naman ako ng bahay nila, sa ilalim ng init, amoy baboy, amoy usok, at lalo pang umiinit sa bawat segundo sa pagtaas ng inis ko.

sa sobrang galit ko nga, 45 minutes pa kong nakapaghintay.

nang matauhan ako, naglakad na ko sa sakayan. sabi ko sa sarili ko, "kahit man lang mongolian barbecue, masalba araw ko." so nagpunta ko sa may UM ulit. nakipagbangayan ulit ako sa mga pasahero ng jeep at lrt. this time, looking forward to sitting down in front of a steaming, spicy bowl of sweet, sweet taketori mongolian barbecue. and i was religiously, deliriously holding that image in mind as i got off the lrt station and floated towards the restaurant...

... in which i find a Closed sign plastered on the door, jeering at me for all it was worth.

putangina.

ayoko na.

kung may natatawa man dyan, leche, gigilitan kita. wala akong pakialam kung diyos ka. MASARAP MAGING KONTRABIDA.

Julian's Story: Second Part - The Dreamscape

Julian woke up screaming. Or rather, he woke up inhaling sharply a large amount of air that he thought he was screaming. Reality snapped into his eyes like a rubber band stretched too far and then let go before it split in two. He could feel his neck and pillows were wet with sweat. His room was throbbing. Beside him, the green blip-blip light his mobile phone made was the only thing which made sense. He focused his eyes on that for a few seconds.

He thought about his dream. He couldn’t remember much about what he saw, but what he could remember clearly was the feeling he had. It was dark... though not the murky kind of dark. The darkness seemed like wind, moving. He felt as if he were on top of a rocky crag overlooking the ocean, and the darkness which was the wind was ruffling his hair, blowing in his ear, trying in vain to relieve him of his clothes. Julian felt cold, and at once he hugged himself, exhaling into his hands and rubbing his shoulders to keep him warm (what good that would do, Julian didn’t know).

He stood like that for a moment, looking down at his feet, trying to focus on keeping his temperature up. When he was sure he’d be comfortable enough, he thought of moving. He looked up and forward again, but he couldn’t see a thing, try as he might to focus his eyes. He thought he could see an island far away, but he couldn’t be sure what it was. He wasn’t even sure if there was an ocean before him. For all he knew there might just be a wall a few inches in front of him. Testing this, he tried extending his right hand slowly and cautiously to touch whatever it is he thought was in front of him. Arms outstretched, he breathed a sigh of relief that there was indeed nothing in front of him.

Except something suddenly took a hold of his right wrist and tugged him forward off of the edge of the rocky cliff. All at once, he felt the winds suddenly laughing, rushing past his ears, falling down with him, spiralling around him. Julian shut his eyes tight and covered his ears, waiting for the impact of the rocks or the water below. Either way he knew it was going to be painful. As he was falling, the winds were trying to wrench off his wrists from covering his ears. Julian screamed, but was stopped a split second after. Thud. Red. Fade... then... black...

... then white. And white. And warm, warm light...

And amidst the warm whiteness surrounding him, Julian flickered open his eyes. From afar, he could see a faint yellow-gold glow floating in an irregular path towards him. Closing his eyes again, he felt like he couldn’t care less what it was. Everything didn’t make sense. Colours meant nothing. It would change again any second, he thought. Black, red, black again, then white... So why try to insist that there was something yellow-gold in front of him?

He opened his eyes again. The glow was still there. Only, it was in front of his face now, as if looking into his eyes. Julian couldn’t look away. He knew the glow didn’t have a face, much less a body, but he felt like he was being studied. He was surprised he managed to chuckle a bit, when he thought of the will’ o the wisp. He hated those things. It was especially difficult trying to kill them in the video game he liked playing, but he did so anyway, hence the chuckle. His heart felt warm then. And for a moment, he thought he should be thinking of someone. Missing someone even. But he couldn’t recall who it was...

Then the glow did an unusual thing. Well, it was unusual for Julian. It stopped moving and moved back slowly. And then it started to shake, as if shaking off its skin of golden dust. It looked like it was dancing, shedding off its clothes. Julian felt sick. This time he really wanted to look away. He felt as if it were a pain looking at the glow. He felt dirty. He felt he was being defiled. Like looking at the glow went against all his principles, all he believed in, all he stood for. But he couldn’t look away. The glow held his gaze. Then Julian’s eyes widened. His mouth opened slowly, air went in unbidden. Julian wanted it to stop. He tried lifting his hands to cover his mouth but all his muscles were paralyzed. The glow was entering his body through his eyes, his nose, his mouth. He wanted to scream. He wanted to close his eyes and exhale all of the defilement entering him. And just when he couldn’t take any more, just when he thought everything would go back again, his voice was freed.

And then he woke up.

Julian's Story: First Part - The Watcher

This is something surreal. Something random I just farted out of my mind. I really did feel like going out. I guess I was just too bummed to stand up. And I felt I needed to stretch my writing muscles again since I haven’t written anything for over a month.

My time for being an undercover student has begun again, and I might as well start writing now since this will probably be one of my main sources of strength the coming months. Well, this and maybe a few bandwidths wasted on playing Ragnarok. I’m planning on jumping into the MMORPG fray. Hell if I care, if I get addicted. Heh. Live fast, love hard and all that bullshiot.

Plus, I felt like missing someone and writing about him, but he’s probably sick of all these blog entries already. SO TALK TO ME ALREADY MIKEY. Hahahaha…

And I almost lost Dance Dance Dance. When I found it (or rather, when my aunt found it for me), I felt like I had to apologize to Murakami-san by reading the book all over again. Har har. I kill myself.

Anyways…

--

Stories are supposed to start when you wake up. But it seemed like Julian is never going to fall asleep so he figured he might as well start his story now.

It was a little past 3 in the morning and it had just finished raining. He opened his window a crack and smelled the cool, wet, rust/rain-scented air that seeped in. He ran his fingers through his hair a couple of times and rubbed his eyes off of the icings of non-sleep. Getting off the bed, Julian accidentally knocked his phone off to the floor. Muttering a mild cuss, he picked it up and noticed he had a few messages in. Mostly from acquaintances, wanting to talk the smallest of small talks over the phone, discussing their little lives, razzle-dazzling for all they were worth. Julian thought it was disgusting.

He threw his phone aside and went over his closet to look for something warm to wear out. He got a white shirt he liked very much and cargo shorts he was supposed to wear the day after tomorrow. No occasion. But he thought, what the hey. It was rare he’d get this surge of wanderlust at this time of the morning. No actually, he’d get the desire to walk out almost every night, but it was only this morning he knew the cosmos agreed that he would be able to go out. So it was special. Special enough to wear a nice pair of cargo shorts. He also put on a blue windbreaker, white sneakers, and slinked off the house as silently as the exhale of a 3AM shadow.

The streets of the metro were damp, in exactly the way he liked it to be. And the street lights were casting a misty orange light all around, it was almost surreal. He felt like a god visiting a sleeping universe. He felt magic silently crackling like static electricity in the air. It was intoxicating. He was glad he snuck out.

He was a few blocks away from the park he always hangs out in when he saw something glimmer under a parked Altis. He squinted and after a few seconds of shadow-shifting, the glimmer in question revealed itself to belong to a cat’s eye. Or, more exactly, a kitten’s eyes. Mew... it faintly said. He thought nothing of it after and continued walking.

Eventually, he reached the park and he walked over to the bench he usually sits on. The sign “ADULTS ARE NOT ALLOWED TO USE THE PLAYGROUND” was almost ready to fall off. Julian would have torn it down himself if he had enough will and energy. The sign made him feel sad for some reason. Sad and tired. So he turned his attention back to his bench. It’s been a while since the rain has stopped so the seat was almost dry. Julian sat down on the cold stone bench and heaved a tired sigh. The feeling of being god was gone, although he could still feel a faint crackle of magic from afar.



He then willed his mind to think. To form images. Random. Non-specific. He felt like he just needed to think. OK, he thought. What am I going to do today…?

But no idea came. Julian let out a sigh again, a small one this time, and brought his knees up to his chin and hugged his legs. He wasn’t feeling particularly cold, but retreating to a foetal position seemed like the most natural thing in the world at that time. He closed his eyes and swirled the colours around the vastness of his mind’s canvass.

That was when he felt it. A presence behind him. Solid, warm, breathing. But definitely not human. Crouching. Waiting. Inhaling. Exhaling.

Julian was afraid. He knew it. He knew the presence knew it. It was so intense he almost whimpered. He slowly turned his head to look behind him. It was as if the presence’s hackles were poised to attack. He swore he could almost hear it hissing.

Julian blinked. And it was suddenly gone. Everything was quiet again. Or rather, everything was clear again, even the ambient sounds – the trees, the slight breeze, and a passing cab. The thick silence was lifted, but Julian was unconvinced. He shook his head as if to ward off an annoying insect, but the uneasiness was still there. He stood up, convinced himself it was nothing. It was gone. And maybe a walk will eventually dispel any traces of feeling it might leave lingering.

So Julian walked back. He passed the Altis where the kitten was. He thought of the Cheshire Cat in Alice In Wonderland and he almost thought he saw the kitten’s grimace fading out amidst the shadows under the car. He passed the familiar streets to his house, and it wasn’t as wet anymore as he would have liked. He got home, went back quietly into his room and laid down, windbreaker and sneakers and all. He turned off the lights and closed his eyes, thinking what a pointless story he had made.

He never thought about the uneasiness in his mind again. Although it was still there. And he didn’t know it, but the presence was watching him. Constantly, irrevocably watching him. Mew...

Won't You Hold Me Down

Life is just that way. There are times when I get tired of it all, and feel like I just want to die. But there are also times when everything is so amusing I want to go on living forever. It's like the scene in cartoons when a little angel is standing on your right shoulder and a little devil on the left, and they're fighting over who will win. My will to live and my desire to die were the same as the angel and the devil -- it was a fifty-fifty tug-of-war raging in my soul. Gravity seemed to be the only thing holding me down.

-- Sakumi, from the book Amrita by Banana Yoshimoto

Kung Saan Nagpunta Ang Ulan

“Sana umulan,” ang parating bulong ng aking kamalayan. Kahit nuong highschool pa lang ako, tuwing umaga pag lalabas ako ng bahay at magsisimulang maglakad papuntang eskuwelahan, unang dasal ko parati, “Sana umulan…” At pagkatapos makapag-antanda ay saka ko lang isusunod ang mga taong naghihirap sa mundo, ang mga gutom, ang mga walang matuluyan, ang aking mga kaibigan, ang lola ko, at ang pamilya ko. Ngunit nauuna talaga sa isip ko ang ulan.

Hindi naman siguro malakas na ulan, tulad ng ipinagdadasal ng karamihang estudyante. Hindi ko naman gusto yung tipo ng ulan na babahain nang lubos-lubusan ang ka-Maynilaan. Binabaha rin kasi ang kalye namin, at pumapasok pa sa loob ng bahay kaya mahirap ding ipagdasal yun, gustuhin ko man dahil mawawalan nga naman ng klase.

Ang gusto kong ulan ay yung kung nasa loob ka ng bahay namin at nasa may kusina ka’t nagkakape’t pandesal (o pag sinisipag ang tiya ay naiisipang mag-champoraodo), isang mahinahong tunog ng pagmartsa ng patak lang ang maririnig mo galing sa nagpapalakpakang yero at ulan. Marahil ay nakikipag-usap ka sa tiya mo, o sa lola mo, o sa kaibigan mo na naghihintay ng paghupa ng ulan pero hindi niyo kailangang magsigawan dahil sa sobrang lakas ng tunog ng bagsak ng tubig sa bubungan. Naririnig niyo pa naman ang tawa, ang pag-oo at pag-hindi ng bawat isa. (Marahil pati na rin ang tibok ng puso sa pagitan ng bawat paghinga…)

Ang gusto kong ulan ay yung hindi malakas, at hindi rin paambon-ambon lang. Yun bang kung lumabas ka sa kalsada at maglakad, ay para bang may karamay kang kaibigan. Yung para bang gusto mong makihiyaw, magtampisaw, at sumabay sa paghalakhak dahil sa isang bagay na nakakatawa na kayo lang dalawa ang nakakakaalam. At kung tatahimik ka ay pabulong na magsasabi ng sikreto tungkol sa lihim na pag-ibig ng buwan sa araw. Ng gabi sa liwanag. (Niya sa iyo…)

Ang gusto kong ulan ay yung titingala ka, pipikit, ngingiti, at magpapasalamat dahil alam mong ang ulan na iyong kaibigan, karamay, katipan ay isang pagbabasbas mula sa langit at patunay na may dahilan pang maging masaya habang ika’y nabubuhay. Iyon ang tipo ng ulan na pinapanalangin ko tuwing bago ako lumabas ng bahay.

Ngunit tulad ng maraming bagay na ating ipinagdarasal, hindi ito ipinagkakaloob sa atin. O marahil ay mas naaayon, hindi ito ipinagkakaloob sa atin sa panahong ating ito’y inaasahang dumating.

“Sana umulan,” ang sabi ko sa sarili. Tulad nung gabing nabanggit mo na kailangan mong umalis, mangibang bansa. Kailangan mo munang magpahinga, magpalayo, mapag-isa. May mga panahon din naman na inaamin ko sa sarili ko na hindi kita maintindihan, at hindi ko na pinipilit ang sarili kong intindihin ka. Ang kapal naman ng mukha ko kung isipin kong naiintindihan ko ang bawat pagtibok ng puso mo, dahil lang mahal kita.

Nag-alay na lamang ako ng mumunting dasal na sana kung saan ka man pupunta ay matagpuan mo ang katahimikang hinahanap mo. Inuna ko nang ipagdasal ka, saka ko na lang sinunod ang ulan.

Nang umalis ka, para bang sumama rin sa maleta mo ang ulan. Pakiramdam ko nagtampo, dahil sa kauna-unahang pagkakataon, may mas inuna akong dinalangin bago siya. Natandaan ko ang mga araw na nagmamaktol ako sa loob ng mainit at tahimik kong kwarto. “Ang daya-daya mo talaga,” ang sabi ko sa sarili. “Aalis ka na nga, sinama mo pa ang ulan.” Wala tuloy sumabay sakin nung tahimik akong nagsisisinghot sa sulok ng kwarto at umiiyak. Para akong bata na nilubog sa mainit na tubig at hinayaang malusaw sa sariling pawis at luha. Inaasahan ko ang lamig na yakap ng ulan, ngunit ipinagkait mo pa iyon sa akin.

Ngayon mas napapadalas ang dalangin ko. “Sana umulan…” Ang tahimik kasi. Ang init. Ang lungkot. Parang antagal na panahon nang huli kong marinig ang pagpalakpak ng ulan sa bubungan. Parang antagal na panahon nang huli akong nakatawa nang malakas kasabay ng isang matalik na kaibigan. At antagal-tagal na ring panahon nang huli akong nakarinig ng kwento ng mga nag-iibigan.

Kailan ako muling mabababasbasan? Kailan muling magkakaroon ng patunay na mayroon pang dahilan para maging masaya? Patuloy akong dumadalangin. “Sana umulan, sana umulan, sana umulan…”

The Rest Of Us

I imagined the lies the valedictorian was telling them right now. About the exciting future that lies ahead. I wish she'd tell them the truth: Half of you have gone as far in life as you're ever going to. Look around. It's all downhill from here. The rest of us will go a bit further, a steady job, a trip to Hawaii, or a move to Phoenix, Arizona, but out of fifteen hundred how many will do anything truly worthwhile, write a play, paint a painting that will hang in a gallery, find a cure for herpes? Two of us, maybe three? And how many will find true love? About the same. And enlightenment? Maybe one. The rest of us will make compromises, find excuses, someone or something to blame, and hold that over our hearts like a pendant on a chain.

-- Astrid Magnussen, White Oleander.

Jumping Into The Fire

even from a couple of miles away, you know it's going to hurt. but you still plunge on. you know you're going to come out bloodied and burnt and scathed and almost out of breath... but if you even have a microtesla of a chance of coming out successful and victorious, you'd do it. it's obvious folly, and a waste of energy (not to mention huge amounts of sanity, heck you've been wasting sanity all your life), but you'd take the chance anyway.

life's crazy like that. and i don't know if i'd want to punch it in the face and kick it in the gut, or just walk away laughing my ass off. either way it's a hoot.

sigh. operator, i need an exit.

Skip To Next Post - Shameless Self-Pitying Ahead

sometimes some people just make me feel like a talentless freak. like i'm not really, as in really good at anything. sure, i'm good at doing stuff, but i feel like it's all i'm ever going to be. i'm not going to be someone exceptionally good at something specific, something really mine.

ok, let's count our blessings one by one. i've been told doing that cheers one up...

• writing. sure i can write. sometimes surprisingly, i even impress myself. but most of the times it's just my brain blebbing out random thoughts. not really coherent, and if anything it's majorly rhetorical and only i get to know what i'm talking about. it doesn't have a purpose nor a direction. it just suddenly existed because my mind had to fart.

  
  
  

• drawing. great. i can draw anime females in four profile views with very unproportioned boobs. like my writing, it has no purpose, everything is random, and there are loopholes needing patches which i do not really care to think about, much less correct.

  
  
  

• webpage design. this one i don't know. sure, i like designing and illustration and anything regarding digital art... but my disposition is too gloomy to spread out to other fields and design techniques. i'm too much a fan of monochromes and very much a minimalist to really bother exploring other schemes... pfeh.

  
  
  

• talking. ok, i can talk when i need to. in front of an audience, to a friend, to a stranger, to plants, to inanimate objects... what have you. i think i'm pretty decent when it comes to conversing in english, tagalog, and coñospeak. it's just that... i don't feel really connected with the person/s i'm talking with. and i don't really have a grasp on the ideas that my mouth is divulging. it's like forcing my arse to release a sweet-smelling fart. it's so fucken' harrrrrrrd.

  
  
  

• thinking. this is the crux. i may be good at thinking, i may be grace under pressure, and i may be mightily clever at times... but my mind always tends to spiral downwards. it takes a real effort pulling it up the way it should be going. an effort sometimes not worth making. oh god.

well that's about all the things i can think of. bottomline, it's all useless. the energy used up in doing those things are just wasted. and that's not even the problem. the problem is i don't even know what it is i'd rather be doing. i feel... dispensable. like anyone can replace me anytime. like i'm not really needed.

and i'm not even sure if being needed is the problem...

about over a month ago i stayed in my room for three days. i came out only to pee and poo. i didn't eat, i didn't talk with anyone... i just laid there on the bed. the most significant movement my body made was billow the blanket. other than that i was just either looking out the window, or looking at the visualizations the mp3 playing in my laptop is making.

those three days... nothing felt odd at all. it felt right just lying there. silence became the air that i was breathing, and it would only feel like i was suffocating everytime my mother would come in and ask me what was wrong with me.

here i go again. this isn't exactly an online journal is it? this has become a garbage dump. a toilet bowl of sorts.

god, i need to fart.