Tao Ba Ako Inay?

Sayang. Siguro doktor na sana ako ngayon.

Kung hindi lang talaga maraming hadlang, marami na sana akong nakuha ngayon. Sa totoo lang, mas marami pa ang sa akin ay ipinagkait kesa sa aking nakamit.

Maraming “sana” ang sa aking isipan ay nabuo, mga “sanang” kailanma’y hindi ko na makakamtan, mga “sanang” ipinagkait sa akin ng aking mahal na ina.

Hindi ko ba alam kung bakit nya ako ginanito? Ano nga bang kasalanan ko para ipagdamot sakin ang ipasilip man lang sa akin ang kalikasan? Mapanuod ang unti-unting paglitaw ng bahaghari pagkatapos ng ulan? Ang pagsilay ng haring araw sa umaga, doon sa may likod ng kabundukan? At ang paglubog na rin nito na nagsisilbing simbolo para sa isang magandang bukas? Ni hindi ko man lang nasilayan ang mga labi ni Angelina Jolie. Malay ko nga ba kung pouty talaga ang lips nya? Gusto ko rin namang manuod ng Avatar ah!

Anu nga bang ginawa kong masama para ipagkait sakin ang malanghap ang sariwang hangin? Ang makapagtampisaw sa malinis na batis? Ang makinig sa huni ng mga ibon? Sa boses ni Asia’s Songbird, ni Taylor Swift. Baka nga nahumaling pa ako kay Lady Gaga ngayon.

Pero hindi naman ako galit inay.

Sabi nila inay, masarap raw ang chocolates, cakes at ice cream. Ayaw ko naman maniwala. Wala naman siguro akong karapatang matikman yun eh. Pero kung merun man, wala naman akong dila inay.

Tsaka alam mo inay, naranasan mo bang magfriendster? Eh multiply? At facebook? Nakakaadik raw ang mga yun. Mas nakakaadik pa sa droga. Gusto ko ring maranasan yun inay. Pero paano? Next time, turuan mo ako ha?

Ay nga pala inay, hindi ko pa rin pala nakikita ang itsura ko ngayon. Pangit ba ako? Balita ko, may Adobe na raw ngayon ah. Kung hindi kaayaaya ang itsura ko, papiktyur na lang ako. Ipa-adobe mo. Hehehe.

Inay, kelan nga po pala ang birthday ko? Meron po ba ako non? Lagi po kasi akong nakakarinig ng nagbabatian ng ganun. Para po kasing nakakaexcite eh. Tsaka, anu po pala kasarian ko inay? Hindi mo naman sakin nasabi eh.

Huli na pala to inay. Pati pala pangalan ko ay hindi nyo naibigay. Nalimutan nyo ata. Kaya nung tanungin ako ni San Pedro, wala akong naisagot. Pero, okay lang yun inay. Sabi ko sa kanya, sabay ka na lang naming iintayin sa kabilang buhay. Natatawa ako inay. At naiiyak. Kasi hindi ko alam kung bakit mo nagawa sakin to inay, kung paanong nagawa mo sa akin ito? Isang dugo lamang ba ako para sayo? Bakit? Hindi ba ako tao inay?

Sayang inay. Kung hindi mo lang sana ipinagkait sa akin ang aking pagkatao at buhay.

A Fancied Conversation

She says:

It’s been a long lonely day.

I want to cry.

I want to kiss him.

I would die for him.

I love him.

Too bad, I have to marry another man.

I think, it’s goodbye now.

He says:

I want to see her smile.

I want to wipe her tears.

I want to kiss her.

I would continue to live for her.

I love her.

If not her, then I would be single for the rest of eternity.

I know I’ll still see her again. Soon

Bilanggo

Madilim.

Masikip.

Sa isang sulok.

Hindi makaidlip.

Sugatan.

Duguan.

Hindi makagalaw.

Hindi makasigaw.

Nakatali ng mahigpit.

Nakaposas.

Nagpupumiglas.

Pilit na tumatakas.

Mga matang luhaan.

Mga kamay na pawisan.

Isang manhid na katawan.

Isang kasalanang

Pinagsisisihan.

Deja vu

He should be happy. That’s what his friends had been telling Jim since the previous day. “But is there any reason to be?” asked Jim. “Yeah. It’s your birthday.” They answered him. He was silent then and asked himself instead, “So what? Does it necessarily mean I have to celebrate? What the heck?!” He became an eccedentesiast. Honestly, Jim was an expert in faking smiles, fooling us like he really extinguished the loneliness in his voice and the sadness in his face. Everything about him seemed to fall in its proper place once his thin lips formed a slight curvature below his philtrum.

When he left after dining with his friends during lunch time that day, he strolled alone around the mall, window shopping. Feeling lost, he just meandered, letting his feet lead him to anywhere until he reached the bookstore where he first met her, Jhanna. Jim sincerely missed her. He tried to reminisce everything that happened between them from their first meeting to their last evanescent communication months ago which just augmented pain to him.

At a not so distant corner of Fully Booked, Jim saw her, searching for books at the Teens Fiction section. He wanted to talk to her but he fought the urge to approach her instead, he just checked his phone, as if expecting that she would text him. He was satisfied to just see her. Before she even glanced toward his position, he had already walked away.

Last night, Jim tried to reach her through calls and texts trying to make her remember that it would be his birthday the next day. But she was out of reach.

And it was lugubrious and disappointing. Last year, same month and day, Jim waited for her birthday greetings but unfortunately, naught reached him. He waited until the hands of his grandfather clock hit twelve midnight. But still, no greeting. He waited the next day, no greeting again. That week, he waited. He waited until the month of January left the calendar. Until realized that he was just waiting for nothing. He was really hurt.

Tonight, he kept controlling himself not to expect any greeting from Jhanna. Because for sure, tonight would totally feel like a deja vu. All the waitings in vain, all the pain.

Sixty-one Pesos

The midday sun was burning and blinding me. The sounds produced by the continuous blowing of horns of the vehicles were deafening. It had been my everyday life when I was still a kid.

Death threats were everywhere. The speeding cars that might hit me anytime. The pollution being sniffed and consumed. Climate change. And above all, poverty. Those were death threats that I have avoided until now. Luckily.

Poverty seemed to be my and almost everyone’s toughest adversary, more competitive to down and degrade me than my co-workers on the street.

At a very early age, I had learned to very hard to sustain life. Without parents to guide me, I learned to depend on myself, to use my instinct in everything, to fight, to avoid producing any emotions. I never cried. I never laughed. My face was just always blank, no trace of any feeling. I never thought I could find friends. I never thought I would fall in love. Until I met her one drizzly day.

There was a heavy traffic that time. A good timing to request for alms from my benefactors, a good timing to satisfy my lascivious stomach. If beggars could look really untidy, I appeared untidier than most of them.

My stomach hurt. Really. From the passengers in the jeep, I begged for alms. No one pitied me. The resented me. I tapped every window of the car that stopped, hoping that at least one would show me mercy. Hope did not leave me. A girl maybe that of my age or a little younger than me peeked through their car’s window, her index finger signaling me to come near her. And I sauntered toward her.I thought I got lucky. She gave me three twenty-peso bills and four twenty-five-cent coins. She opened the window fully, ignoring the rain pouring inside the car. And I saw her face. An incomparable beauty. A sweet and sincere smile. Glittering eyes. Everything about her seemed great. Her hair. Her ears. Her pointed nose. Her whit teeth. It was like I was staring at the best portrait with awe registered in my face.

Their car started driving out of the traffic, leaving me staring at the sixty-one pesos she gave me.

I didn’t know how to interpret everything that had just happened. The feeling was new to me. An uncommon excitement. Fast beating of my heart. But, it seemed great.

That night, I didn’t eat my supper, fearing that I’d be able to spend the sixty-one pesos, a small amount of money but an unforgettable memory. I didn’t care if I were very hungry then. What was important was that the money was kept, sealed and treasured.

Starting the next day, I always came and went to that place where we first met, expecting that I’d see her again. This time, failure consumed me. And I still hoped.

______

I haven’t fallen in love with other girls since my first encounter with her. My friends now are teasing me because of that. They just laugh at me everyime i told them about my story. But I didn’t really care.

______

One time, I saw a woman looking totally like her. I have no evidence that she was her, I just know that it was really her. Because I’m a man now. Everything about this girl was familiar. An incomparable beauty. A sweet and sincere smile. Glittering eyes. Her hair. Her ears. Her pointed nose. Her white teeth. Everything seemed unchanged. Except for one thing. My heart. My feelings for her. There was no excitement in me upon seeing her. My heart beat just normally. I didn’t know what was happening. I put my hand inside my pocket, grasped something and procured it.

The sixty-one pesos. Her sixty-one pesos.

Now I realize that I ma not really in love with her.

I am in-love with just the memory of her. I am in-love with the sixty-one pesos.

To Love Economically

Economics is known as the Queen of all Social Sciences.

Economics is the study of how people or the societies utilize scarce resources to produce valuable commodities and distribute them among different people according to their effort. – Samuelson

But have you ever wondered that this course also covers another field of specialization known as Love?

Below are some of the terms normally used in this science:

1. SCARCITY is the most important consideration in this study.
>>PRIMARY QUESTION: Isn’t my love enough?

2. OPPORTUNITY COST is the value of the next best foregone alternative. This means that you have to think first of what is going to happen if you leave your present love just to stay with another.
>>PRIMARY QUESTION: Is he/she worth it?

3. MARKET occurs when there is the interaction between the producer and the consumer. This is just the start of their “mutual feeling.”
>>PRIMARY QUESTION: Are we compatible?

4. PRODUCTION is the process of producing the right feeling for someone. The process of production depends on the amount of love demanded.This problem can be answered by the production of the amount of love that needs to be supplied to satisfy the consumer’s needs. With the full utilization of this production process, the scarcity of the amount of love demanded can be lessened.
>> PRIMARY QUESTION: How to produce?

5. CONSUMPTION refers to how the individual perceives, receives or consumes the love being supplied to him/her by the producer.
>>PRIMARY QUESTION: What to produce?

6. DISTRIBUTION refers to how the producer distribute his feelings for everyone. Here, the producer thinks if everyone is really entitled to receive his love. If yes, is his love for everyone be equally distributed? Who deserves most of his love?
>>PRIMARY QUESTION: For whom to produce?

7. DEMAND refers to the amount of love that the consumer is willing to receive.
>> PRIMARY QUESTION: How much do I receive from her?

8. SUPPLY refers to the amount of love that the producer is willing to give.
>> PRIMARY QUESTION: How much do I give her?

9. DEFRAUDMENT is an act of cheating. In here, either you are the one to cheat or the one to be cheated on.
>> PRIMARY QUESTION: Am I fair?

10. EQUILIBRIUM occurs when the amount of love supplied is equal to the amount of love demanded.
>> PRIMARY QUESTION: Are WE fair?

Love is a business.. It is really a risky undertaking.. Make sure that you are indeed willing to accept the consequences once you venture in this obstreperous industry.. Remember that love itself is a market.. Either you are a consumer or producer.. a buyer or a seller.. Reminiscent of the market, love deals with prices too.. once you choose this kind of commodity, you will not be able to change it.. it strictly follows the “No return, no exchange” Policy.. In the same way as the market, defraudment occurs in love too.. either you are the one to cheat.. or the one to be cheated on.. But if you will just be satiated with the maximum amount of goods or services that can be rendered by your supplier, then remember that there exists the EQUILIBRIUM too…

QUESTION: Are you willing to take the risk?

Blue Moon and Your Love

Tonight is a peaceful night for me but not for my heart.

I am standing here inside my bedroom, trying to take a slight glimpse of you outside through the small hole created by a stray bullet last New Year celebration.

It’s slightly dim inside. All lights are off. But outside, the gleaming sun is slowly hiding at the back of the mountains.

Memories of our past are striking my mind tonight. It is really a good time to reminisce now. But I don’t want to because the act of reminiscing pains my already wounded heart.

It’s very ironic. I really want to escape from you and from our moments when we were still together. But here I am, acting as Peeping Tom, waiting for naked Lady Godiva to come.

For not a very long time, I have waited for you. Almost in vain. The moon has just emerged from its concealment. It’s a full moon. But NOT an ordinary full moon.

I am still hoping for the impossible and am not expecting you to come outside your house. I can see you glancing all over the surroundings, relishing the tranquility and serenity tonight. There’s a tingling sensation all over my spine upon seeing you.

I just continue standing here, satisfied that I can still lay my eyes on you.

You look really relaxed. But when a gush of wind touches you little by little, you then automatically embrace yourself, pause and then enter back the house.

A sense of disappointment and insatiability envelopes me now. I feel like I’m frozen. It’s true. Really. I cannot move.

Mainly because I don’t want to leave this position I am currently at. The same spot where we were, the last time we were together.

Despite everything that happened between us, good or bad, hopes have not left me. I still expect that sooner or later, you will be coming back to me.

I don’t really want to leave this spot where you left me almost a year ago.

I fear that I won’t be where I should be when time comes that you change your mind and decide to come back to me.

I’ll just be waiting here. So it would be easier for you to find me.

Then I notice the lights inside you house winking out one by one.

Silence. It seems that everything around are ordered to shut up.

I realize that maybe I am bound to believe that my love for you, like history, repeats itself. Like a river incessantly flowing.

With silence gone again, I cherish the nature around me. The chirping birds.

The screeching owls. The howling dogs. And every part of nature that produces sound.

I open the window now. Despite the sadness, I am still glad I am able to relish the clouds. The wind. The stars.

Time seems to stop when I look at the moon. All hopes and expectations are shattering now. My heart is breaking. My eyes are now shedding tears. All these just because of tonight’s full moon.

I also realize that maybe I am bound to believe that your love for me just happened “once in a blue moon.”

I remember. It’s the second full moon of the month. A very peculiar occurrence. And that makes it uncommon. Because it’s a blue moon.

Blue moon. Your love. Both rarely happen.

(Her) Wedding

“Ting! Ting! Ting!”

The church bell rang. A signal for the start of the mass.

Today is a very special day.

The bride had arrived already.

Because today is wedding day.

I was inside the church, waiting for her. Now, I could see her walking in the aisle, being taken by her beloved father in the altar.

She was very voluptuous. Her curve was still emphasized in her long and pristine white gown.

Her face was concealed by a transparent veil. But I knew that behind that veil was a visage with a pulchritude unparalleled.

I could just stare in awe.

Time seemed to cease upon me seeing her. But unfortunately, it did not stop.

Seconds later, she was in the altar.

I almost got lost of the time. It appeared like everything happening now was being fast-forwarded. I was just able to cope up again when the celebrant asked her with the “magic question.”

And I heard her answer, “Yes, I do.”

Now, it was time for the priest to ask the groom now.

With my eyes closed, I answered in a low voice, “Yes, I do.”

Time was so fast…

And it was the right time for the groom to kiss the bride.

With the veil being lifted slowly, I felt some kind of nervous.

I know there was still pain in me. A sense of suffering. A touch of melancholy. It felt like the only thing left for me was a broken heart.

When their lips met, I turned and walked away, leaving the one I loved in the hands of another man. Someone who deserved her more than I did.

I know it was awkward for a guy to shed tears while walking. Especially when he was facing the red carpet. But what could I do? That made me really feel better.

When I reached the outside of the church, I wiped my tears with the handkerchief I received from her (so many years ago).

I just smiled. I just continued meandering in the vast space occupied by the town plaza, hoping that somewhere out there, I would meet someone who would not just accompany me in a transient paradise, but would be bound to me for the rest of eternity.

Someone who would join me in a wedding I could call my own.

A Phoenix’s Dirge

Undeniably, I could hear it coming from that Arabian tree. The most audible sound, the most symphonic song produced by her.

But wait! It was not an ordinary tune. It was neither a chant nor a ballad. If I were not mistaken, it was a threnody. I could say so. Because I saw everything.

The incandescence that was evident in the Arabian tree would surely blind me. Nonetheless, I couldn’t make myself look away from that art.

It was a son et lumiere.

This “light and music” was created by her, the Phoenix.

She was the source of that blinding light, the font of that beauteous song. Her singing could be heard by everyone in the environs.

Her music just went on and on until it suddenly ceased when a Turtle-dove arrived. Her inspiration, her source of strength. If winking meant gladness of the Phoenix because of the Turtle-dove’s advent, then I could say that she was glad. But her happiness was evanescent.

She had waited for him to come. For eons, she built walls around her to shun meeting new mates, hoping for his return.

But now that he had come back, her source of strength was frail. A bleeding wound near his heart was the cause of the Turtle-dove’s decline of vigor. A tear fell from one of the Phoenix’s eyes.

Then abruptly, the Turtle-dove began singing. And the Phoenix sang with him. Songs of a forbidden love.

And sooner, the Turtle-dove passed away.

Life’s too short for him. But not for her. She had almost all the time to live. And she was unhappy because of that. Imagine living alone for the rest of eternity. Yes, she was able to die too. But when? How? After death, she would be reborn and would be living lugubriously again in this world.

I was sorry for her. I know it would really hard for her to live in that way.

And the Phoenix resumed her impeded singing.

As she hummed, she carried her inamorato, unfurled her wings and readied herself to fly. But as their bodies collided, they blended into one. Everything was ablaze. The bird was ferociously burning herself until it was turned into ashes. From those ashes generated a new Phoenix, a bird that was destined to live as long as its old self.

And that meant another millennium for suffering. Another life for pain. Rejuvenation for solitude.

And it flew away, leaving no signs of her existence but the smoldering Arabian tree.

Then the crack of dawn followed. I consumed my time in a deep sleep. And the song of lamentation of the Phoenix still rang in my ear.

Tonight, at New Year. . .

“The rule is: we cannot really forgive ourselves unless we look at the failure in our past and call it by its right name.”

-Lewis B. Smedes – Forgive & Forget: Healing the Hurts We Don’t Deserve

There was once a guy who loved only one girl. He always pursued her wherever she went to. He was, at first, an introverted person. But his timidity slowly diminished when his love for her became more intimate and more poignant until he gradually and totally changed into a more outgoing one. He then earned more and newer friends.

With the help of these newfound pals, he commenced wooing the girl. It did not take too much time to receive her very “sweet yes.” He was very happy. He had his new friends plus his girl. And she was happy too. By the way, her name was Margarette.

Time was so short until he became aggressive. He was mean. He was avaricious. He desired sex from her. [And he was lascivious]. But she didn’t want to and he was still very adamant. He was trying drugs too. Thanks to his so-called friends for this excellent transformation!!

The girl wanted to leave him for good but she just couldn’t, with his situation now.

One night, the two of them went to a bar. But instead of taking her back home, the guy dragged her to heaven(for him, and to hell for her). He was out of control. His libido was unrestrained. He hauled her toward a grassy land.

He raped her.

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

And that was years ago. Every night, he was being choked by that nightmare. He wanted to escape that darned episode of his life. Tonight, inside the gaol, he was in his bed, humming a lullaby, trying to make himself fall asleep in the midst of the audible sounds outside. He was looking at the multicoloured sky.

On his seventh year in prison, he asked again for forgiveness. For seven years, all he did was to repent. He besought her and her family for pardon. He didn’t really want an exculpation. Just a simple forgiveness for a sin he knew he really committed. A mistake he hadn’t denied.

This was all he wished for since having himself thrown into the borstal. He knew it was really hard to achieve, but he was still hoping to.

Tonight, at New Year. A fresh year for hope. For change. For makeover.

He could now hear the countdown of everyone from the outside. And he couldn’t help himself but to smile.

—————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————–

By the way, my name is Gary, the narrator of the story. I don’t know if i could consider myself the protagonist or the antagonist. Because I am Gary. Gary the Rapist. Gary the Repentant Rapist.

Award or Shame?

Philippines has been hailed as the country having the longest Christmas season in the world. The start of the “ber” month signals the commencement of the Christmas Celebration here in our country and winds up with the Epiphany on the 6^th day of January every year. Now, do you still wonder why Philippines bears this title?

Seven days to go and it’s Christmas time.

But that is the irony of it.

We just have to wait for a week for Christmas. But do I really need to be happy about this?

Because to tell you honestly, the spirit of Christmas could not be heartily felt now. Instead of different shows emphasizing the Christmas season, innumerable commercials showing the bestial visages and ingenious perfidy of the reptilian politicians are dominating the Philippine TV.

It is undeniably true that nearly all the Christmas culture, customs and tradition have been forgotten.

Because of this, I couldn’t help myself but to pity every Filipino who has been hoodwinked their fellow Filipinos “serving” and who will be serving our humble abode.

Now that you have read this, are you going to neglect the message this post has implied?

Will you be joining those who diminish the genuine values and importance of Christmas?

Indeed, the Filipinos have been acclaimed to be the people who celebrate the longest Christmas season in the world.

But what is really with the distinction and fame? So what if we commemorate Yuletide for a very long time? If we, ourselves, do not know how to hold dear of this remarkable accolade, and if we are unmindful of the true meaning of this treasure in our grasp, then would you still consider this as an award that needs to be cherished forever or just a shameful act that should be forgotten as early as now?

I really pity you, Filipinos.

we both die

If I were to compare our relationship with others’,

then

I would compare it to that of a hamadryad and a tree,

THAT IS…

if the tree dies, the hamadryad dies too;

that if you die, I die.

i shall

if we can’t be together, then i shall die alone.

but i won’t let that happen.

if i have to kill, then i shall kill.

if i have to wait, then i shall wait until you come back.

i believe that our love can transcend anything that hinders us to be with each other.

i would do anything just to stay with you forever.

if i can’t, what should i do?

if i can’t see you,

better be blind

and enjoy the sight of darkness.

if i can’t touch you,

better be an amputee

and enjoy sitting in the corner.

and if

i can’t be with you forever,

then it’s best to die now.

tomorrow

Every time

i

wake up. . .

i

seek

for

two

valuable

things -

you & death.

just.then.but.lately.and

JUST…

I thought that again I won,t be in love,

That I would always feel bad,

So lonely and very sad.

THEN…

You came into my life and change everything

You also removed my pain and suffering

You gave me the chance to love again.

BUT…

I know that again I’d would still be hurt

That I would cry in the end

That I would feel betrayed.

LATELY…

I realized

That even if you hurt me, and in darkness

It’s still that I visualized.

AND…

That’s love after all…

“After you are hurt,

In love again you fall.”

stolen darkness

Light fades

Darkness comes

Coldness appears

Hotness succumbs.

Stars loom

So emerges the moon.

Only silence is heard

As noise is procured.

In this night –

I am sullen.

Only darkness

Is my companion.

But I know

That soon, light reappears

To purloin from me

This darkness.

This night ends

With loneliness in my heart

With anger for light

As darkness and I part.

just a single wish

Once in my life, I wished for almost everything. But time came when I had to desist wishing. Neither because all my wishes had been granted nor any of those had been vetoed. But because you came, above anything that I had ever wished for. When I first met you, my mind seemed like a supernova . . . gradually exploding when something electrocuting ploughed into it . . . sending thoughts over my body . . inundating me with different emotions . Then there came the striking light . . . Shown were order . . . tranquility . . . concord between us. . . There was something like a slim thread connecting us, linking our thoughts, uniting our hearts. . . but all these serenity, elation, stupefaction were ephemeral. . .When you were gone, there was pure dimness. Turmoil was over my mind. . .pandemonium of thoughts ruled. . .an utter confusion. . .an interminable upheaval in my psyche. . .That made me blatantly downhearted. . sequestered. . wretched. . And all I could wish for was my abrupt demise. . .

first time

The first time that we met

I asked the Lord above

About this feeling I felt

The He answered me, “It’s love.”

The first that I saw you

I did know what to do

I was just to tell you

That I love you and it’s true.

The first time that I saw your smile

My heart jumped for a mile

And then I thought for a while

Dreamt that we’re both in isle.

The first time that I heard your voice

My whole body trembled.

The first time I touched you,

I felt so nervous.

This is my first time

To be in love like this.

Now I want to know,

If you’ll give me my first kiss.