Things messed up.
There was never a
good reason why things messed up, it just did! This was not an unfortunate
event. People choose to do it.
Even though people
were presented with cornucopia of choices and could still choose only one –
only one – it was remarkable how one would pick that messed up things.
I recognized that
when people start f**king up things, they f**ck me too. No matter how clever
little business I had built in my life, I have to master the pain of gripping
for fear that I might fall. It isn’t good luck that makes life works. It is all
hard graft and vision but a bad reaction to stimulus – let us call it – bad
luck – could mess things up.
I knew that no matter
how clever I am, how hard I work; bad luck could confuse me up.
I blamed it all to
the phenomenon called interconnectivity. We are all interconnected. The S-R
Theory. It is a non-stop stimulus-response cycle. The stimulus that stimulates
my reaction is the reaction of other people’s reaction which is stimulated by
other people’s stimulus. Or vice-versa. Or whatever.
It always comes full
circle, now it makes me nauseous. I want to step out in the cycle, in the
redundancy of things. I want to watch people f**cking up other people who mess
up other people and let them hear me laugh out loud.
I want out for a
whole time – if I can’t break the cycle.
But how?
The question is hard
to bear because I know I have been bottled up in the sequence. I have to live
with that. I am bottled up, no escape. No end to this conflict.
Someone says I should
do what I think is right. And I say there’s no such thing as the right thing.
No matter how I exert effort to do what is best for me, things would simply
clutter for me.
Last resort. I have
to anesthetize myself. Kaya nga gusto ko maging manhid.
Pasted
from <http://gustongmagingmanhid.i.ph/blogs/gustongmagingmanhid/2007/06/23/gustong-maging-manhid/>
Sunday, June 24,
2007
Nakaupo sa
kama
mga kamay
nasa unan
ang kumot
nasa paanan.
Nakatitig sa
dingding
habang
nakatitig ang dingding sa akin.
Ayaw
pansinin ang bombilya
na siyang
araw sa apat na sulok ng mundo
na ayaw
umikot
sa
katahimikan nababalot.
naghihintay.
Ilang milyon
na nga ba
Ang tupang
nakapila?
Nagtakbuhan.
sa mga
butiking naghabulan.
Magsyota
kaya ang mga umeksena?
Bago pa ang
sagot
nagulat ang
dalawang kamay
na patuloy
sa pagtakbo
Sa tili ng
sabungerong kapitbahay ko.
Alasais na
pala.
Makatulog na
nga.
Monday, June 25,
2007
Hikab! Pang
ilan na nga ba? Pati yata sa pagbibilang hindi ko na kinaya sa sobrang antok.
Aabutin pa yata ako ng second coming of Christ sa paghihintay pero hanggang
ngayon, narito pa rin ako.
“Maguwa na!”
(Aalis na!) sigaw ng konduktor sa wakas.
Siguro ay
tinablan na si Manong Driver sa mga nagbabagang mata mula sa akin at sa iba
pang mga pasahero. If looks could kill, hindi lang double dead si Manong. Sa
una mabagal, yun pala we’re preparing to take off. Ilang segundo pa lumipad na
ako sa pangunguna ni Manong Driver na bigalng nagtransform sa pagkapiloto.
Hindi basta ng erplen ha, jetplen! Kahit pilit akong hinihila ng antok, hindi
ko nagawang pumikit. Baka kasi sa pagdilat ko nakangiting anghel or worse
nakangising si Taning pa ang mamulatan ko.
Bigla kaming
naglanding.
Akala ko
malaking bag ang sumakay pero bata ang umupo sa harap ko. Kumaway siya at
ngumiti. Hindi sa akin, sa nanay niya.
Inosenteng
ngiti. Parang tranquilizer sa kung sino man ang pag-ukulan nito. Puno ng
assurance.
Gusto ko
malaman kung anong gusto niyang i-assure sa nanay niya.
Gusto ba
niyang sabihin na:
“Nay, wag
kang mag-alala pagbubutihin ko ang pag-aaral.”
O kaya..
“Nay, iaahon
kita sa hirap. Magiging sikat na doctor ako.”
O baka…
“Nay kung
hindi mo na ako kayang pag-aralin, sasali na lang ako sa starstruck.”
O di kaya…
“Salamat sa
baon nay.”
Nainggit
ako. Hindi sa baon niya.
Sana at the
end of the day, may chance akong ngumiti tulad ng ngiti ng batang kaharap ko.
Yung ngiting gustong ipaalam sa mundo na naging makabuluhan ang buhay ko sa
buong araw. Yung ngiting may assurance na may magandang bukas para sa akin.
Yung ngiting reflection ng inner peace. Yung ngiting galing sa puso, kahit
hindi na inosente.
Syet!
Lumampas ako!
Manong,
paraaaaa….
*Just came
from work
6:00am March
6, 2007
San Miguel,
Jordan Guimaras
Wednesday, July 4,
2007
She was
wearing black on the evening of May 1, almost 3 years ago. She curved her lips
forcing a smile but everybody around her sensed her misery. She smiled shyly
as people asked questions which she answered while trying to drown the pain in
her words.
I looked at
her, though anxiety was in her gaze, it was not only her beauty I thrown into.
I walked slowly towards her. I have something for her that surely would break
her into pieces. I hated it because it left me no choice but to break her at
that instance.
She smiled
at me a little slowly. Then I dropped the bomb. Her exceptional warmth which
began slowly faded slowly too. He left her. She is now alone. She refused to
hear it and let tears engulfed my words. I turned my back, can’t bear to see
her pain.
For 27
years, they lived the same lives. Theirs was not a perfect union but I knew
they can’t live without each other. Greg and Bing struggled in one to guide
four lives preparing in a battle called life. And on that fateful night, I
recognized Greg was so sorry for going ahead and leaving Bing.
Watching
her cry for many nights from the night he left her, my spirits were sinking
rapidly. They would have sunk lower if not for her own words, full of
assurance that everything’s okay if not for her, for us her children. She is
in pain but she won’t let us know.
The bomb
she caught was not the first in many years that she has been a mother.
Different bombs from four of us in different forms, in different intensity
shattered her. She was devastated but it never crushed her spirit. She always
stood up with the regal angle of her chin, with her motherly strength and high
hopes. And like any mothers, she never gets angry with our failures but she
let us realized that every time we fall, it was her knees that get bruised.
Now that
she is alone in her bed they once shared, on the breakfast table in the
mornings, in meetings that supposedly called “Couples for Christ,” I wonder
what keeps her going. Is it for the reason she had not yet prepared a very
solid ground for us? Does she believe that we can’t fly without her? What send
shiver me is the thought of how long will she hold on for us.
The four of
us, Totit, Jean, Pj and me are so careful now not to cause her pain again. We
see how weak her emotions right now, that another stir can make her wasted and
tired to go on holding the last rung of the ladder. We love her. We may
not say it often or maybe we always assumed she knew it. But deep in us, we
love her simply because she is more than our mother, Bing is our Life.
Sunday, July 29,
2007
I am here
in a place not where my physical body is.
Floating
Praying
To
whoever more powerful than me, if there was, there is.
Prove
your power.
Bring me
to where my mind is.
My mind
went home, is at home.
Where is
my home?
What is
home?
I missed
the feeling of feeling at home.
I hate to
be here,
But…
Still I
am hating to be here.
Who’s to
blame?
Cast the
stones on me.
I cast
the first stone on me.
Leave me
no choice but to breathe just for the sake.
I’ll
wait.
Can he
wait?
In time…
But
I can’t
wait forever.
Glad my
mind’s at home.
I’ll wipe
my tears.
Thursday, August 2,
2007
Dumating
ka sa buhay sa isang pagkakataon na hindi ko inaasahan. Hindi kita kaylangan,
hindi ko kinakailangan nang kahit sino sa buhay ko. Hindi ko binigyang pansin
ang pagdating mo. Sabi ko sa isip ko, aalis ka rin kapag ipinaramdam ko sa’yo
ang pagbabalewala. Pero hindi, wala na akong magawa, andiyan ka na eh.
May
nagbago agad sa akin. Ako pa rin naman ako. Ganun pa rin naman ang molecules na
bumubuo sa katawan ko pero highly-charged na ang mga ito. Kapag nagpaparamdam
ka, halos mabaliw ang bawat cell sa sistema ko. Naglulundagan, parang baliw na
nag-aamok, parang lamok na carrier ng dengue na nasa loob ng kulambo, parang
addict na lowbat at gustong tumira.
Noong
inamin ko ang pagdating mo , punong puno ng sari-saring emosyon ang puso ko. Sa
sobrang gulo, kahit ang trilyon-trilyong neurons sa utak ko hindi ito kayang
i-dentify.
Pinilit
kong kalmahin ang sarili ko. Nag-isip kung ano talaga ang papel mo sa akin at
ako sa iyo. Katulad ng pagpupumilit kong ayusin ang lahat ng basura sa loob ng
cabinet ko, pinilit kong kilalanin at makipagkilala sa lahat ng emosyong
huma-hunting sa katauhan ko.
Meet and
greet.
Nakilala
ko ang saya. Happiness. Natuwa ako sa hindi ko alam na kadahilanan. Siguro kasi
dumating ka na, hindi na ako mag-iisa. Kahit hindi ka pa nangangako na hindi mo
ako iiwan pagdating ng panahon, ako, sa sarili ko nangangako na kahit na anong
mangyari, hindi kita iiwan.
Excited na
ako. Excited akong makilala ka ng lubusan. Alam ko na sa pakikipagkilala ko
sa’yo, mas lalo kong maiintindihan ang mundo, ang buhay at ang sarili ko.
Ano kaya
nag paborito mong pagkain? Ano kaya ang gustong gusto mong isuot? Mahilig ka
rin kaya sa looney tunes at anime? Sa horror movies? Sana sabay aayong mag
soundtrip. Sana pareho tayong adik sa tulog kapag umuulan.
Takot. May
takot rin na bumabalot sa akin. Takot na baka hindi ko kakayanin ang pressure
para ma-impress kita. Paano kung hindi ko kaya ang buhay na gusto kong ibigay
sa’yo? Pa’no kung ayaw mo pala sa’kin? Pa’no kung ang totoo, hindi ka para
sa’kin?
Dahil sa
mga takot ko, pilit kong ginigising ang lakas ng loob at tapang kahit hindi ako
sigurado kung meron ako. Andiyan ka na, ilang hakbang na lang, andito ka na sa
tabi ko.
Hindi ko
alam kung saan ko huhugutin ang tibay at lakas ng loob para ipaglaban ka sa
mundo. Gustong kong ipaalam sa lahat na akin ka na, na tayong dalawa na ang
sabay na maglalakbay sa buhay.
Alam mo ba
na sa unang ngiti mo pa lang sa’kin, para nang pinahiram ni darna ang bato
niya? Kayang-kaya ko na yata lahat. Ganun katindi ang tama mo. Sobra pa sa
shabu ang amats na nararamdaman ko. Smile pa lang yan ha!
Kung dati
walang direksyon ang buhay ko, ngayon pinipilit kong tahakin ang tamang daan.
Kahit baku-bako, kahit maputik, maalikabok, mainit, maulan. Kahit takutin pa
nila ako na may nag-aabang na multo,aswang, baliw, adik, rapist, serial killer,
pulis na nangongotong, corrupt na politician, cute na crush ko, tutuloy pa rin
ako, hindi ako titigil.
Kung
tatanungin mo ako kung bakit hindi ako matatakot, aaminin ko na matindi ang
takot na nasa puso ko pero mas malakas ang puwersa ng determinasyon kong maging
maayos ang lahat sa buhay ko.
Samahan mo
ako, hawak-kamay tayo. Kasi mas madali para sa’kin ang lahat kapag alam ko na
kasama kita. Kapag may pagkakataon man na bibitiw ako sa pagkakahawak sa’yo,
huwag kang mag-alala hindi ako sumusuko. Kailangan ko lang hawakan ang marupok
na tulay para makatawid ka ng hindi nahuhulog, hindi masasaktan.
Kung pwede
lang na hindi mo makilala ang tinatawag na sakit, paghihirap at lungkot tulad
ng pagkakilala ko nito, gagawin ko. Itatago kita sa sa kalupitan ng buhay, ng
mundo, ng ibang tao. Pero kailangan nating tanggapin na magulo ang mundo,
malupit ang buhay. At ako? Puno rin ng ligalig.
Hindi ko
maipapangako sa’yo na pwede nating i-bribe ang buhay para maging kakampi natin.
Isang pangako lang ang ibibigay ko sa’yo. Hindi kita iiwan kasi andito ka na,
hawak ko na uli ang buhay ko. Ikaw ang buhay ko.
Siguro
naman alam mo na. Mahal kita!
Pasted
from <http://gustongmagingmanhid.i.ph/blogs/gustongmagingmanhid/2007/08/02/alam-mo-na-ba/#more-21>
Thursday, August 9,
2007
High
School life was the best until I stepped into college.
First two
years were boring. Boring subjects, boring teachers, boring lesson, boring
classmates, boring everything and boredom stirred up the quitter in me.
But I woke
up one day and realized there is no such thing as boring everything, only
boring minds. Incontented with the same sh*t, I tried mind boggling, mental
aerobics but I settled for mental masturbation to anesthetize myself and
encapsulated boredom in the back seat of my mind. For happy thoughts I needed
for my flight, I took amphetamines to get my life a life.
Infringing
the redundancy of my so-called life, three entities disturbed my full circle.
I don’t
know how I find them or how they found me or how we found each other. Or did
we, really?
The three
creatures kept me hanging between sanity and lunacy during those days when I
was trying to find myself for I am not sure if how I lost it. Actually, we
still hold on until now for my sake and for theirs, too.
Fate was
maybe weary that time when it played a joke on us, as it collected me and Allan
in the back seat of the dark room where Ms Judy tried to grab our attention.
Ritchel
didn’t exist at that moment as far as I am concern but she was somewhere in
that same dark room. King? Who would have thought he was alive?
Tell me
who your friends are. I have 3!
Allan
— An apparition! That was what came to my mind the moment I sat my eyes outside
the little chapel where we pay our last respect to my father. He was there
standing, hands in his jacket. Though I can’t see his eyes, he was watching the
scene inside. I thought he wouldn’t show up for he was somewhere in some part
of the Philippines working his ass to earn a living. That was in 04.
It was a
relief for me just with his presence. Maybe that’s what real friends are for.
Just mere presence is comforting enough you could go on with the fight.
With my
series of unfortunate events, he didn’t fail to show up. He has this power
(attributed to mind reading or maybe we’re some kind of connected?) of being
there at the right moment when things didn’t go on the way I expected it to be.
Shock absorber. He can calm my storm over bottles of beer, loud music and few
words while we pass time at Manong’s (we’re resident tambays of Manong’s). I
was unaware of his influence in me same way I guess that he was unconscious of
the effect I have on his life.
Some hard
lessons in life I learned from him. How would I forget the way he showed me the
simple way of enjoying a stick of ‘chongki’. To escape from the harsh reality
of college life, the four of us hid in our little valley, cover our selves with
smoke and real laughter.
He told me
in between demonstrations using a stick of lighted yosi “Hold the smoke
in your lungs as long as you can. Feel it swimming inside of you. Slowly let it
go. While doing so, enjoy whatever comes to your mind.” I followed suit. It
felt good. But we didn’t do it with a real ‘chongki’, too bad.
I hold on
when circumstances cause me to bleed or put me to death laughing. Feel it
swimming inside of me. Slowly, painfully, I let go. There’s not much of a
choice. While doing so, be thankful for people like Allan who taught me that
life is more than smoking a ‘chongki’.
Ritchel — So much self-confidence that was how she projected herself on the
first time we both accepted our existence. She was part of the elite
group and me, the loner, the outcast. I dunno how it started; maybe same hands
of bored fate brought us together. Same venue, backseat of semi-dark room. She
was okay. We didn’t share the same opinion and often we clashed trying to
outweigh each other. But as time pass us, again we get bored, we learned to
listen. I am good in listening, I prefer to listen. And Ritchel? All she wanted
is to speak up what’s in her mind. She’s my balancing factor. My devil’s
advocate.
Runway.
Our sanctuary. With sticks of yosi, we would shy away from our confusion and
offered each other the consolations we knew.
I still
remembered how she stood up for me when a girl from the university bullied me.
She bullied the girl! With her big frame and mataray looks, who wouldn’t be
afraid of the big bad wolf? King called her Yakult – Yawang Kulot!
After
college we headed different directions. She found job right away while me, I
tried to find myself armed with only my ideals. Not only she found her career,
she had found the love of her life! That made me a loser. But I was happy for
her.
“I am no
longer woman of the police but a policewoman!” she proudly announced.
She maybe
in the other side but the fence doesn’t separate us. We didn’t see much of each
other. In fact I don’t remember when was the last time we saw each other.
But she
called me in the middle of the night to listen to my cries. She was there for
me. She took time to pay attention to my heartaches. Yakult has her soft side
softer still.
We knew
that unlike the runway we used as tambayan, life would not be smooth and
straight. But we knew that like runway, no matter how long and hard the travel
we will nevertheless have time to carry our sticks of yosi, shy away from the
world and embrace the friendship we have.
King
— We met in different space, not in the same dark room where three entities
done the orgy of thoughts. It was not hands of friendship I first offered him
but a stick of ‘chongki’. We were passing time behind the university chapel
waiting for the next class to begin which we prayed it would not. Every girl
who passed by the area would be a victim of his malicious intent. Lacking of
better things to do, he raided my wallet for pictures of boys and anything that
would amused him but found it boring. He caught the smell of the stick then
savored the scent. He planned to light it up in broad day light, in public
place, in that university campus worse behind the chapel.
“Sige lang
para mabangag si Jesus!”
King is
not that brutal.
Like a
knight in shining armor, King would rescue a damsel in distress. Not any damsel
but true friends like me and Ritchel. How many times he proved he would kill
for us, how he willingly would jump over the bridge for us, his friends.
We may not
agree on certain issues, we may discuss things in loud voices but certainly we
cling on to and for each other. In between beer tournaments, conflicting
matters, maoys, we knew we are still of the same mind. I wouldn’t trade him for
any gorgeous and sexy boys for he claimed he’s gorgeous enough for me.
“Bugo ba
ko?”
I just
can’t help but laughed in his quest for self-introspection.
With King
around, I wouldn’t be terrified to light my stick for I knew he would be there
and together we will be flying high.
Pasted
from <http://gustongmagingmanhid.i.ph/blogs/gustongmagingmanhid/2007/08/09/ode-to-the-entities-who-taught-me-smoking/#more-22>
Saturday, August 11,
2007
The sky,
even as a child, it fascinates me. I dreamed of becoming an astronomer so I
could study the sky and everything in it. I used to spend time watching the
stars and moon. In day, the forming clouds and even if it hurts the eyes, the
sun. I learned an area of the sky and learned it intimately until it becomes a
cornerstone of my private map. The area of my sky is not a complete picture but
a tantalizing one. It invites guesswork, fancies and theories.
Just like
my life.
It
occurred to me that the sky is parallel to life. A phenomenon in the sky is a
phenomenon of life.
I have
known my galaxy and now it was different. It had been altered. The changes
distorted the surrounding sky.
It
happened when our eyes met for seconds. It was longer than uninterested look
but shorter than a cruel stare. I cannot resist admitting that he was the force
that rearranged my galaxy.
Usually, I
went away from the room and back again and nothing was different. Now it was
something else. It was as though each molecule in my body has been changed from
solid state to gaseous one. I am still me, still composed of same molecules but
suddenly they were highly charged, their emotions frantic and their paths
random.
Am I in
love?
The
thought was an uncomfortable one, disturbing yet so beautiful.
The
symptoms were obvious: lapses in concentration, loss of appetite, an apathetic
response to any intellectual activity, an enthusiasm for previously tedious
chores like a simple washing of plates; fantasies, fatigues which miraculously
vanished when he walked into the room.
When he
smiled, I become self-luminous. Much more when he started a conversation, I
feel like a Nova, a star that suddenly brightens by a factor 10,000 or more.
With him around me, my increase in brightness occurred for a few days and the
bright phase lasted for weeks and I prayed it will never end.
The
spiritual beings like men in kind though vastly superior in powers were maybe
too busy creating a new world for they didn’t hear me pray. Like a comet
blazing brightly in an evening sky, the idea of him being in love with me too,
was gone too soon.
I thought
we were one universe that could shake the stars and move the heavens. I was
wrong. He has his own galaxy. I am not part of it.
Slowly, I
was surrounded by silence and darkness. As the sky darkened, my earth become
still. A big black disc was gliding slowly across the sun and like a big fish,
it was gradually swallowing the sun. The darkness all around was absolute. It
was not really night. The world was still and silent and dark and cold. Despair
settled in me like thick dew.
I fell in
love and fall out of love and love is a black hole. A region in space which
nothing, not even one can escape. It creates yawning chasm in the fabric of
space time, warping everyone.
After my
eclipse, when my earth breathes again, I was still all in darkness, without
form beyond reason, like sleep.
The Big
Veda asked “Who can speak the origins of love and life? Did he who controls
this world make it?”
From this
arose the all-creating god. Forming me again, shaping my galaxy until another
force greater than the first comes to distort my surrounding space again and
again…
Pasted
from <http://gustongmagingmanhid.i.ph/blogs/gustongmagingmanhid/2007/08/11/black-hole/#more-23>
Monday, August 13,
2007
This story
happened when I was in
college.
The avenue
is one of the busy roads during daytime within the city. Along that long road
lies a public cemetery and like any other cemetery, it is cold and lonely
especially in the middle of the night.
A friend
of mine was suffering a broken heart when his girlfriend eloped with another
guy. As a breather, he found himself alone and lonely walking along the avenue.
It was almost midnight and it was cold, thanks to the heavy rains that evening.
There was no one except for one or two cars passed with great speed.
Rain
started to pour again and no PUJs were in sight. He ran to the nearest waiting
shed, the one nearer to the cemetery gate. He stood there waiting for the rain
to stop or PUJ to pass by, whichever comes first. In his peripheral vision, he
saw someone near the gate. He felt a chill in his neck. He tried to ignore what
he saw and the fear that started to build up.
In
seconds, he sensed something bearing on his left side. He took a deep breath
and finally looked. There she was, few inches from his face. Her eyes looked
directly into his. It was the loneliest eyes he ever saw!
Some say
it’s a gift. To some, it’s a curse and to a chosen few, it’s unending wonder
packed with amazement. I don’t care how they called it. I don’t have it. I am
third eye blind. But for 27 years of struggling in this life, I have been into
situations scarier than stories in books and movies.
For one is
letting go.
I heard of
the story about a traveler who, while traveling one dark night, falls off a
cliff. But on the way down, he is saved by a branch of a tree. Hanging until
dusk, nobody hears his cry. With vanishing hope, he calls on God. God tells
him: “Let go of the branch”. But he was so scared he didn’t let go. When
morning came, he looked down to see a hilarious sight: he was only a foot away
from the ground!
Like the
traveler, I was afraid to let go of the things that I cling to, to feelings
both wonderful and painful, to people who walked in and out of my life. I no
longer realized that I am holding on to a branch that I thought could save me
from falling.
One time
in my life where everything’s wrong, I came across with someone willing to help
me make everything right. I thanked fate for being so kind in bringing the
person to me. I even prayed that destiny would be kinder and will not
allow us to separate ways.
Either I
am not good in praying or life is just unfair.
How could
I gave up something disturbing yet so beautiful? Someone who, I called my life?
I am face
to face with horror of letting go.
Stubborn
that I am, I still hold on to him, to the beautiful feelings we shared, to
everything we had. His words, his memories, this entire person kept on haunting
me. I knew, like an apparition, he will not last long in my senses. He will
never be mine, for he belongs to someone else.
The idea
of letting go of something wonderful and someone valuable as my life is
unbearable. I never believed there could be such pain. The world seemed so
muffled and away and empty. In emptiness, I have nothing to let go. I am
lonely. And loneliness is another scary story.
I felt so
much loneliness that it’s been like an overdose sending me into deep
depressions. It’s a deep of a place in an abandoned building believed to have
residence entity. I don’t want to go in there for no one would like to share it
with me.
One day, I
woke up with another demon coming to life. Loneliness and depression forced me
in believing that I have no belief. That God is too busy with other people He
loves most. Or, there is no God at all. Heaven and hell doesn’t matter to me
anymore. I stopped bothering myself what kind of punishment lies ahead of me
after this material world.
I had read
in Bob Ong’s book that an argument of the existence of God is like an argument
between two ticks whether there is a dog or otherwise. Maybe the dog the two
ticks referring to, is busy screwing another dog that it didn’t even notice the
itch in its body.
But again,
the bloodcurdling idea of seeing a dog full of ticks is, as not as fear
provoking as the physical pain the world is confronting.
War,
disease, hunger, poverty, prostitution, pornography, child abuse, sex scandals,
sex transplant. Church scandals, AIDS, HIV, drug addiction, vandalism, OFW, DH,
murder, capital punishment, rape, Jemaah Islamiyah, Abu Sayyaf Group, NPA,
kidnap for ransom, graft and corruption, election fraud, Garci tape, jueteng,
EDSA I, EDSA II, the list goes on and on….
The scary
stories in my life breeds questions: If I let go of the things that both
wonderful and painful, am I exorcized? When do I have the courage to turn on
the lights so I could clearly see my shadows that take refuge in the
dark? Will the ticks lose its grip once the dog start scratching?
Pasted
from <http://gustongmagingmanhid.i.ph/blogs/gustongmagingmanhid/2007/08/13/dogs-2-ticks/#more-24>
Wednesday, August
15, 2007
I may
choose apathy or I can play autism but after a group of protesters armed with
banners and never-ending chant passed before me, he caught my attention.
True to
the form of Taong Grasa as defined by self-righteous society, he was
comfortably sitting in his place in the sidewalk. He was wrapped up by his
self-made world.
As if
awakened, he stood up. With his precious dirty tuxedo, he put his hands on his
hips and like professional model, he posed. After enjoying his new-found
profession, he relaxed. He then engaged in a conversation with someone he alone
can see. He nodded, talked, smiled a little then stopped as if to listen.
For
reasons unknown to me, his face hardened, his eyes became fierce. His
conversation with his “friend” turned into an argument. He was so furious
obscenities flew from his mouth. In one fluid motion, he assumed the form of
Bruce Lee. For few minutes, scenes of him were like from kung-fu movies. He
fought so hard with his invisible enemy. He was afraid to lose for his
reputation is at stake. After another series of round kicks, he raised his arms
and laughed like a madman.
Like
nothing happened, he went to his place in the sidewalk and again absorbed in
his own world. The honking of approaching jeepney stimulated me back to my
senses. I went aboard the jeep, once settled inside I increased the volume of
my mp3 player. I shut myself from the chaos of reality while escaping from the
world the Taong Grasa created for both of us.
Pasted
from <http://gustongmagingmanhid.i.ph/blogs/gustongmagingmanhid/2007/08/15/a-day-in-paradise/#more-25>
Walang komento:
Mag-post ng isang Komento