Midnight Drama: Part One of What Could be A Long Series of Drama

31 October 2010

It is 11:59 as I write this, the walls of my room shake as big-ass trucks pass by, dogs seem to be arguing about something, but the wind is quiet, and still I am lulled by the humming of my electric fan. After watching episode after episode of downloaded sitcoms I went down to the kitchen to make myself a pitcher of orange juice and a scooped a small bowl of peanut butter. Now I am sitting on my bed, hunched low, the only light coming from my laptop screen and I thought I should write something about love. So here I am.

There are no experts in love, the scientists can tell you about neural receptors and chemicals being secreted and bolts in your brain, and they can tell you of your beating heart, of your flushing cheeks, of your stutter as you speak, but they cannot tell you of love, not as you want to hear it. Social scientists go forth and observe your behaviors and the patterns and the similarities and differences between societies and cultures of their perception or expression of love, they give a lot of talk, but none of those are what I want to say. Even the poets and their figures of speech are not much different, they’re just fancy words, fancy phrases for something we all know, but can’t say what.

Love, love, love, we know of love, we know what it is, but we don’t have enough data about it to be able to say something about what it is that will be conclusively accepted as true. Except perhaps that it’s  perplexing.

----

I want to see you. I want to hold you.

I have dreams, dreams where I wrap my arms around you and I shield you from the world. In my arms nothing can harm you, in my arms there is no reason to be scared, in my arms there is nothing but my love. I can promise you my heart, I can promise you my life, I can promise forever if only you ask.

Tell me to come to you, tell me to speak, to shout, to proclaim to the world that I love you. Let me say it, let me say what we both know.

----

It is 2:19 AM, 26 hours and 20 minutes after I begun writing this piece and I am still thinking love. I have considered asking somebody more experienced than me in this field and then was where I hit another brick wall. What exactly constitutes the ‘experiencing’ of love? Does it require a mutual acceptance of a relationship before it falls into the category of ‘true’ love? I only bring that up of course because it was the main argument of this girl I knew in high school as to why what I was feeling for her cannot be in anyway ‘love’. Is an individual’s consciousness that a set of emotions and reactions to stimuli fall into a set and culturally accepted pattern constitute as ‘experiencing’ love, hence the phrase ‘falling in love’?

For several days now I’ve been immersing myself in different possible sources of information. Among them are love poems (notably, Chingbee Cruz has wonderful love poems, though again I cannot possibly know how the category ‘love poem’ was ever formulated without a clear enough definition of love), Hugh Grant movies, romantic songs (ignoring the fact that I might come off as spambot now, I would like to commend Ang Bandang Shirley for their album ‘Theme songs’), romantic comedy sitcoms, and even the holy books of different religions. Still I’ve got nothing.

----

I watch my cigarette burn. Holding it between two fingers I bring it closer and closer to my face. I see the ember as it consumes another bit of white paper and turns it into gray ash. The orange burns brightly within the black of the burnt tobacco, and right then I wanted to kill the embers on my chest. Burn my skin with this cigarette, right where my heart beats. It shouts, my heart does, it is cold and weak. I shall bring it warmth. I shall bury this cigarette through my flesh and bone to pierce my heart.

Your picture is pinned on a corkboard on my wall. Too small for me to frame it, too valuable for me to keep it in my wallet, too beautiful is the face on it for me to be able to cease thinking of it. I cannot hide it, I cannot throw it away, your smile immortalized in celluloid has been marked into my brain, etched with the embers of a cigarette.

I watch my cigarette until it burns nearer and nearer my skin. I swore to myself never to let it go, no matter the pain of the heat, no matter what stinging burn, I shall hold it until it dies between my fingers. Only then shall I let it go.

----

Jesus Christ, it’s now 3 AM and I’m writing vaguely about unrequited love, how much more pathetic can I be?

FML.

The Sparrow

20 October 2010

The Sparrow 

by Ernest Angeles

A gallant day,

Of come what may,

There came the man and his sparrow,

In desert heat,

On blistered feet,

He speaks of love found, lost and followed.

 

Heart was weary--

Did not see me--

 Only by eyes of his sparrow,

            With eyes and beak,

            Not find but seek,

The love he swore to follow.

 

            On the east path,

            Blocking it sat,

A man with eyes of a sparrow,

            “Man,” said he,

            “Could you he be—

The man I am set to follow?”

            “Journey not yours

            of feet and oars,

But through the eyes of your sparrow,

            With it, flutter,”

            Man did utter,

To the path that you seek not follow.”

It's a Blog, What Do You Expect?

07 September 2010

Did you expect perfect use of language? Impeccable grammar? Correct Spelling? Did you expect discussions on the philosophy of language? In-depth analysis of political events? Scientific research papers? It's an effin' blog, you get as good grammar as I can come up with while typing with as little thought processing as possible. The closest thing to philosophical thinking would be bullshit armchair philosophy. The closest thing to in-depth analysis would be biased ranting about hearsay, and I'm not even touching scientific research, never.

This is a blog, and it's about bullshit emotions and stupid slice of life stories written in the crappiest possible.

Having said those stupid excuses, I'm gonna start with the vague allusions and senseless statements again. Not now, but soon.

----

Okay, maybe a little now.

I feel like a dick when I'm with you. I feel like I'm trying to come-off as something impressive and always falling short. I metaphysically slap my forehead every now and then for saying something stupid, or just plain acting like an idiot. There is so much of me that speaks of staying calm, of just being myself, but I end up doing these stupid things anyway. Or at least I think they're stupid, maybe you don't. I don't have enough balls to risk it.

I know it's futile and stupid and I'm not doing myself any favors by obsessing over it, it's just that there's nothing I can do. It's too late, what opportunity I may have had I lost a long time ago. I never recognized it. And even if I did, I wouldn't know what to do with it.

There is very little in this, this, whatever it is that stays and keeps us strangers from each other. Too little for me to try to figure out what it is. Too little, so we stay like this, on opposite sides of I don't know what. You just going on with your life. Me obsessing over this border I cannot cross, the fence I cannot see, the walls I cannot remove.

Meeting in Between

01 March 2010

Someday, and that day may never come, I will see you in the street and you will smile at me. You will walk towards where I am and I will walk towards where you are, we will say our hellos and never need to say our goodbyes. Maybe someday we will meet in between. You will love me liked I always have and I will no longer treat you as something more than just a dream.

Someday, maybe someday, we will fail to see the world as it spins its spells around us. Together in a future dream our dreams will be one.

One day, or so I pray, I can live on the air you breathe. You can live life you always wanted, the difference is that you live it with me. And I will forget whatever hopes I had because to be with you is living dream.

Maybe one day, maybe someday, maybe never. Forever can be made real thing, eternity will be an item, infinity can be personified into one you and all of me.

The Continuity of Self-Hate in the War Against the Truth That is Time

08 February 2010

I have prided myself in being above mediocrity, on being more than the average man. I am ashamed to admit that all this time I have been wrong. But I will admit, I have been wrong, I am no more than a man. Whatever the definition of which it entails, that I am, a man and no more.

I would like to believe in a One True Way, a destiny, a predetermined future that speaks of me being born to be more than what I have always been. I would like to believe in fate. I would like to believe that there is something out there in the path time takes to the end of it all that says one day I will be great. But I know there is none, I know now that there is no one true way. That I am a man molded by the choices I make and the events this brings.

For as long as I could remember I have been obsessed with the past and the future. Wishing there was a way I could travel back with the wisdom I have now and change things, make things better than they are. Hoping that eventually something will happen that will lead me to a destiny I have so long wished for me to have.  I am constantly at war with the truth that is time, and that there is nothing I can do about anything in it other than what is in the present.

I have come to understand that my wishing and hoping have all been wrong. Understand, but not accept.

I know this, I accept that the fact that I cannot accept that fact is a weakness. I am afraid of the future, and as the mistakes I have made pile up I cannot stop myself from dwelling In the seas my incapability to take charge of my own life has created. I am drowning, and as I consume more and more of these errors I realize all of this is just too much for me, and I will die in my sins to myself and to the world around me. To the people I love, and how I have begun to hate people I love simply for being right about me, for stabbing me with knives and spears in my face. There is simply too much of it for me to start over.

--------

But then, I do not have to start over.

I have taken the step to realize I am drowning, I have awoken to see my world flooded by these blunders of my own making. I have accepted that there is no way for me to parch these waters, and what I have to do is to learn how to swim.

-------

I am humbled by my own words, I recall once saying to a friend; “We can never start over, we can only continue from where we are.” How arrogant of me to have said words I have been blind to follow. Time and time again reminds me of how my past has molded me to be what I am. Weak, irresponsible, arrogant, fool-hardy, timid, indolent, these are adjectives that have chosen me as host. I have lived a life to deserve the flaws of my nature, and not the splendor that I could be.

There, I said it, there is nothing I must be. There is nothing I should be. There is nothing I need to be. There are only the things I can be. Somewhere between my clouded reverie and lurid lucidity I know, There are things to be done, and everything now lies as to if I will.

I can never really know unless I try I guess.

Senses

03 February 2010

I wish we can turn off our senses.

I wish I can choose to not hear, not feel. I wish I could be there but not know it.

I always wish I cannot feel, the world I move around in is a jungle of stimulus that mauls each of my senses like mobs. I am left beaten from the moment I can no longer pretend to be asleep to the instance life grants my wish that I be numbed and fall asleep. The pain I bear is so that I forget to wish for my dreams to not hold the pain in them. If at all, remove all my senses, may no more come to this consciousness of mine, if I shall still live let me then be a shadow awaiting death. If you cannot take from me all that binds me to this reality then by the very least take my hearing. For I can always close my eyes, but my ears are cursed to always hear the words spoken to me by she who means to hurt, amen.

My name is Jun Palma, and I am not alone in the confines of my room. I share the space with fear, hate, anger, sadness. I share my room with the recurring words from a creature known to my soul only as the bringer of pain. I am not alone and I have never felt so weak.

Hate, if I have to left with only one thing, let it be the hate. My Hate.

The Complexity of Memory Annoys Me

28 January 2010

I wish people would stop telling people what things remind them of, I know I must've done it a few times as well but I'm gonna stop it right now. People should stop telling people what things remind them of. People get reminded of  a lot of things during conversations, people get reminded a lot of things when we look at things, people get reminded by a lot of things all the time! It's annoying when they start going "oh that reminds me..." "it reminds me of..." nobody cares what it reminds you of, did you get your conversation skills from a shoe?

It especially annoys me when it involves some sort of artwork done. A webcomic I read once had a lot of comments saying "This feels so Calvin and Hobbes" the artist commented back sounding offended, she had no intention of it looking Calvin and Hobbes-ish, she is barely influenced by Calvin and Hobbes and the readers thought it was very Calvin and Hobbes because it had a FRIGGIN' SNOWMAN! What the fuck was that about? What good did your comment do? Who the hell needed that information? Saying something like that is saying something because you don't have nothing to say, if you have nothing to say then DON'T say anything. Especially about what shit reminds you of.

To those who follow me on plurk, you would be familiar with how I was annoyed by a comment saying that my poster design reminded somebody of the Loverage poster for the UP fair sometime back. Now that was damn annoying, even if you meant it as a compliment, how the fuck did that comparison help anyone? And the designs don't even look anything alike. If it reminds you of something it offends our attempt at being original. It offends me because I go to great lengths to make it look good and the best thing people would say is "hey, that reminds me of ________" fuck that.

Okay, there goes Ernie again complaining about shit that don't go his way. Just think about it okay? That shit ain't cool.

Pathetic Loser Admits Pathetic Loserness

29 December 2009

I admit it, you still make me feel weird.

Don't get me wrong I really really appreciate that your in love and all that. You like this guy, and he's probably a really nice guy, he's real good looking and all that, he's even artistic and all that, we could actually be buddies. But hell, here I am, being miserable for something that is five years old. God, I probably sound so pathetic right now.

I remember Prom night, yes this will so pathetic, when I held you in my arms and we danced some weird dance-like thing. I must've stepped on your foot for at least three times, cut me slack, I was nervous. Do you still remember what I told you? Probably not, fifty other guys were on the line to dance with you. I said, "Pinapangarap ko to ng tatlong taon.", something like that. Pathetic losers like me say stuff like that.

It's very very weird.

You know what I'm doing right now? I'm looking at your facebook photos, and photographs I took way back when. I am looking at them and I feel so pathetic doing it.

No, really, don't mind me. I'm a writer, I write stuff, this is what I do, so don't you go worrying about the stuff I've been saying. Not that you'll be able to read this anyway, never had that much confidence since second year highschool, and that was done in a really cowardly way too, giving you all those pathetic poems I did. Do you still have them? Probably stuffed underneath your pillow or something? Hah, I wish, if you still have it it's probably deep in the pile of stuff all the guys that try to win your heart has given you.

I don't even understand this, It's not like there were no girls after you, I had my fair share, and then some. You we're, like, the girl that never was. That I never went any distance with. Maybe that's it, I placed you on the pedestal, my deity, nobody can take you place inside of me, you'd always be that special creature of the human species that will torment my internal organs forever. And that makes me pathetic.

A friend says, "It's just weird, it's never pathetic." Maybe she's right, liking you is never pathetic, your the first girl I used the word "love" with, that may not be so pathetic. If you we're just another trophy beauty damsel then it would be very pathetic but you're not. You're the female human that stood in a place in my consciousness and never left.

I don't know, maybe I'm just regressing, sorry for wasting you're time. I'm pretty sure he's a great guy and he loves you very much. Click nga kayo 'di ba? Hahaha. yeah I stalk him too so I know he's pretty neat, and I hate that because it doesn't give me a reason to hate the guy. So there, just had to say it, keep in touch.

Sorry for being weird, don't worry, I have no idea what I'm talking about either.

A conversation (Flash Fiction)

14 December 2009

http://www.plurk.com/p/2z83jx
Isang Mabilis na ginawang fiction, presented sa format ng Plurk.

Darkness

01 December 2009

The dark does not exist. It is no object. It is the absence. Absence of the truth that is light.

Endless, and the fall has begun

Flesh flies off my skin as I bleed into non-death

Your voice echoes in my skull

Painful.

Stop it, stop this damnation

My turn for a revelation

Destined for the generation

Bleed the darkness out your souls

Get out, you're the stain in blood

Get out, you're the mud in my veins

Get out, you're the evil

Eat my heart outside my conscious self.

Slowly the mirror has become my fear

Darkness creeps it's arms around me

Eternal embrace of its son

I don't want to see those arms around me

Save me from this plight

Give me some light

Can no longer fight

I am never by myself, but I'm alone tonight.

I Remember my Dreams (201st blog entry)

19 November 2009

(yep, you read it right, this is my 201st blog entry, wow, that's like, 200 entries after the first one. Might be, not really sure, I'm pretty lousy at math. Don't bother counting every entry here, some are exclusive to different people, I think I only have three people who can see every entry there is. Instead of doing what I did on the 101st blog entry where I highlight certain really cool entries I had in the past I'd rather talk about something that has bothered me by a bit, something that makes me realize what kind of person I am becoming)

I am young, I know that, I admit, no matter how much I want to grow up really fast I am still young. 20 years of life doesn't really constitute that I have enough experience to be considered old, or at the very least, mature. When I was a younger boy I had dreams, I wanted to be a fireman, an Indian chief, a Soldier, the President. I wanted to be a lot of things, I was younger and much more ignorant than I am now. Gaining more years of life I have dreamed more practical things, to be a journalist, to be a teacher, to be a writer. I actually tried a little for those roads, I have given up sometime between trying and beginning. I was young, I was ignorant, I had no idea what the world was like, I am grateful that I now know what kind of life there is for someone who quits and does not pursue such dreams, I am grateful to lose that ignorance. But I regret losing my dreams.

Imagine this universe, a box of endless possibilities everyday, imagine all of the things I could have done and could have been had I only acted upon these possibilities. But here I am reading web comics and posting replies to social networking sites, downloading games and funny pictures and pornography. Sending out resumes via the internet because the 500 pesos I have won't be enough for me to go to companies myself. I still haven't finished my clearance at the previous company I worked for because of issues that are caused by incompetence and laziness and irresponsibility. Everyday of my life seems like a repetition of yesterday where the only difference is the dates on my calendars and the level of my characters in the video games I play. Where have my dreams gone? What happened to my hopes and goals that have been reduced to getting a job and getting out of the house once in a while. What has become of me?

I know I have my dreams somewhere, I can feel the disappointment at myself for living a life of stagnation and idiocy. I feel the anger at myself for forgetting about what I should be doing to achieve my dreams. I am afraid of the tomorrow whether it would end this monotony for the better or for the worse for I do not know how to live a life other than this sensation of falling. Yes, I am no longer on the edge, I am falling from the cliff I myself jumped from, it is such a lengthy fall that the fear, the sadness, the curiosity and the boredom have been taking turns at me for several repetitions now. I have always thought I was grasping at the straws of security, I haven't realized the straws have ripped off long ago.

I have forgotten, forgive me, whoever may, or whoever would have the urge to, forgive me. I threw myself into the furnace and melted into a molten soul, fitted into a mold. I have become scared of my dreams as well ass used them as an excuse for incompetence and irresponsibility. I now fear judgement for I know it will be just, and I will be punished, if the burden I bear now is not punishment enough for my lies, misdeeds, evil thoughts and incompetence.

As I write this the rain has started to fall, and it reminds me of tears I will not allow myself to shed for myself. I may not be excused from this anguish, I refuse to provide myself relief from the pain. This is my pain and I deserve it, I shall make this the greatest day of my life, the acknowledgement of failure and pain and refusing to give the blame to anyone except myself.

Thank you for sharing this moment with me. My names are Ernest Jean Angeles, estongdakila, Jun Palma, and Cilva. I have spoken these words so you may slap me in the face or throw me a pail of cold water. I remember my dreams now, and I pray you never forget yours. Screw the World and it's walls, I have dreams, I shall live them.

I'm no Genius, I'm no Activist, but I'm Not Enough of an Idiot to Not Say Something.

18 November 2009

Do you know these names? Noynoy Aquino? Of course, how abot Kris Aquino? Hell yeah, the Cojuangcos? It seems stupid to ask. How about these names: Jun David? No? Boy Verzola? Never heard? Neng Manalo? Random people you say? Nah, These are just the names of some of the farmers killed at the Hacienda Luisita Massacre. Yeah, doesn't really matter, does it? They don't affect your lives, they do their farming, they fertilize land with blood, the Cojuangcos live their nice and easy lives and you don't give a shit.

It's funny how easy we judge the villains in soap operas when we can't see the bad guys in real life.

Sure, Noynoy may not have ordered that massacre. Yeah, I AM judging him by his genetics. I want to know something from this Presidential Candidate, WHAT ARE YOU GONNA DO ABOUT IT? Prove to me that you won't let your family influence you, prove to me what you can do for the farmers, point the finger on who actually is responsible for those deaths and that injustice and actually do something about it. All you did so far was blab on the newspapers that you want the Hacienda Luisita Lands to be given to them farmers, do something about it motherfucker.

Right now, it aint your fault. You let this slide and it will be.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

A few months ago, actually maybe even less than that, Legarda was accusing Villar of corruption on the C-5 road project. I definitely think that Legarda was just doing that to catch attention because her "climate change lady" image just isn't selling (if you don't remember, I don't blame you, she also used to be "poverty lady" and "social injustice lady"). That didn't work out quite well for her as well since she ended up sounding like Jamby Madrigal, and who the fuck would want to sound like a cam-whore? So scrap that, she goes into the "I-don't-want-to-talk-about-politics-I-want-to-focus-on-climate-change" mode, (she actually said those words) WHILE everybody is talking about Presidential aspirations, oh c'mon. That sounds so Presidentiable, I hate you Legarda.

And now, she's running with Villar as his Vice-Presidential candidate. Not that it was surprising, it was funny and annoying as hell. Now who  the fuck is telling the truth the whole time? We all know that Manny Villar went corrupt in that project, I just want somebody punished for corruption once in a while in this country. C'mon! The question I want to ask and I want to hear a goddamn straight answer from both of them WHO THE FUCK WAS TELLING THE TRUTH? Because if Villar was teling the truth that he didn't go corrupt on that project then Legarda was making baseless accusations and she's a liar who just wants some attention at the expense of a fellow senator.if LEGARDA was telling the truth then what the hell is Villar doing running for president? You want to give him MORE power?

I like Villar for pete's sake, he was the original rags to bureaucrat capitalist story. I just don't want him running the country, I'm fucking scared.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

What the fuck can I say about Bayani Fernando that hasn't been said already? He can't even fix Marikina, you expect him to fix a country? He think trees are like street lights you can pull out and replant. God bless the Ateneans wanting to pull up a "we love the environment" image for not letting Bayani Pull out the trees at Katipunan. He's a wonderful engineer, sure, he has great ideas sometimes but he can't solve all the problems, he can solve very specific type of problems that cover his field of knowledge. He isn't stupid, he's fucking ignorant of all the other things. He thinks the reason his methodologies aren't working is because we don't know how to follow the rules, Motherfucking idiot, does he even drive around Metro Manila? I want him to drive around Metro Manila every god condemned day of his life to see what kind of messed up things he comes up with and how it messes up everything else.

By the way, Pink and Blue is just a fucking ugly color for the streets, mix it with all that black from soot and its disgustingly ugly. Paint it silver or something, paint it Yellow, Paint it beige, blend to the street colors, just don't paint it fucking ugly blue and pink you idiot.

-------------------------------------------------

I don't blame many people for liking Chiz Escudero, the guy is charismatic, he talks the talk, he talks quite a lot actually, and he actually thinks he's the Obama here, he's a fucking corrupt idiot.

I grew up surrounded by Sorsogon Politics, I know what Chiz has been doing all the time he was Representative of Sorsogon, effin' nothin'. He was too busy being a noisy young congressman from Bicol during the impeachment trials. He was busy being the so-called good-looking senator. He was too busy sounding smart and pretending to be smart to actually be smart. He's an overrated, overexposed motherfucker who talks too much.

YOUNG PEOPLE! Knock-knock! Chiz Escudero cannot save your country, he is another Feudal raised, corrupt son of a bitch. It just disgusts me that they even let him speak, everything he says is so written down on a piece of paper and memorized before he actually says it on cam. Geez, how I wish I could talk about everything he's been doing and the stuff he's been saying, and all that stuff but I promised my family I wouldn't. So I'll just say shut up Chiz.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

When I told my mom that Erap is running for President I did it via Yahoo! Messenger since she's out of the country, all she could reply was "OMG."

Geez, constitutional loopholes! We are going to allow somebody who is actually guilty of corruption to run for President? A womanizer, prolific gambler, corrupt motherfucker? Are we that stupid? Do we have absolutely no respect for our constitution or ourselves? THE GUY WAS CONVICTED GUILTY. G-U-I-L-T-Y. He is out on PARDON. PRESIDENTIAL PARDON. The guy's a convict for taking money of the taxes WE paid that could've been used to feed our families. The guy's convicted for protecting illegal gambling activity in the country, what the fuck else do you want to hear?

PLEASE! Joseph Estrada can't even respect  a little deal he signed for his pardon. "NO RUNNING FOR PUBLIC OFFICE" or even "THOU SHALL NOT COMMIT ADULTERY", how the hell do you expect him to follow law like "Don't steal from your country ass-hole"?

----------------------------------------------------------------

This is going to be one really retarded elections. With all this stupidity I would make you want to NOT vote. But fuckers that's the only thing we have to do in this Democracy. I fucking hope we choose the right one.

Miss

15 November 2009

I hate being stuck at home. I feel like a bum. I'm not a bum. I'm a freelancer. That's a job.

I miss being at school. Not going to classes, just being at school. Hanging out with my buddies and talking nothingness. I miss Christine. I miss Jammin, I miss Roxanne. I miss everyone.

I miss drinking beer with my buddies. Drinking beer should always be with buddies. I want to treat the guys out for beer. A small group would be better than a big group.

I miss being respected for what I do and what I choose. I guess too many wrong decisions forfeit that right. I hate feeling like a burden.

I hate wanting to die. Wanting to die is as pointless as fearing death.

I miss being able to smoke at the sunken garden. I miss the smell of freshly cut grass. I miss jeepneys.

I miss nights at UP, where everything is beautiful.

I miss falling in love.

I hate having to go back at the office. I hate the way my old boss looks at me like I'm worthless. I hate knowing that she's right.

I hate the questions they ask me. When are you graduating. When will you be back at school. What are you doing right now. Where do you work. What does that mean. How much do you get for it.

Tell me if I suck. I'd love it. Affirm the belief I've had for years.

I hate this. I miss you.

Nauubos nga Kaya?

11 November 2009

(oo, yan talaga ang title n'yan, hindi yan inagaw sa mga linya sa Katorse kahit na parang magkasing korni)

Paano kaya kung ang pagmamahal e nauubos. Yung tipo bang me stock ng pag-ibig sa puso mo, tapos kapag naubos na e wala na, di mo na kaya magmahal. Kahit anong pilit mo, di na kakagat ulit tulad ng dati.

Naisip ko lang naman kasi hindi ako sanay ng hindi ako inlab, taena komedya. Lagi akong inlab e, kung kanikanino, apaka bilis ko mainlab. May mga resurgence-resurgence pang nalalaman ang puso't damdamin ng bwakanang inang pakshet, tipo bang maiinlab pa ulit sa nainlaban na nya dati kahit hindi na naman sya inlab dun for quite some time. Inisip ko tuloy, sa dami ba ng nainlaban ko (taena, anong salita yan? nainlaban ampotah) e naubos na ba yung stock ko, di na kaya? Napamigay na lahat (kahit di nila lahat alam na nakakatanggap sila), ubos na, sa kabilang bahay na lang kayo mag trick or treat kasi di na kaya mamigay ng kendi ng mokong na to, 1 week old na pandesal na lang ang natitira, bonus na yung palamang ipis.

Inisip ko din, sakali ngang nauubos yung stock ng pag-ibig, parepareho kaya tayo ng dami ng pag-ibig? Baka merong mga sumisirit na sa puso nila yung pag-ibig, dyuskopoandame, tapos meron ding yung perslab nya na kaklasmeyt nyang tinuruan sya magtali ng sintas nung greyd tu lang ang kaya nyang maalayan ng pag-ibig, pagkatapos nun serial killer na s'ya. Halata naman kasing iba-iba tayo ng paraan ng paglustay sa pag-ibig na meron tayong naka stock, haypotetikali. Halimbawa nga ako, para akong bagitong bumberong perstaym humawak ng hose na sobrang lakas ng bugso ng tubig, edi kung sino-sino na nababasa, alang direksyon ampotah. Meron namang parang Kongresman, karamihan ng pork barrel e sa kanya lang. Papatayo lang s'ya isang put brids.

Tsaka, paano kay kinokompyut yun? Ibig ko sabihin, yung mga paraan ng pagpapakita ng pag-ibig may corresponding value ayon sa kung gaano kadaming pag-ibig ang kelangan i-alay. Siguro magastos yung magsimula ng bagong lab, kaya siguro ubos kaagad yung sa akin, bigay lang ako ng bigay e, walang maintenance.

Pero baka naman narereplenish, pede mag reload. Halimbawa nood ka ng mga pelikula ni John Lloyd e me sapat na bala ka na para mainlab ulit. O kaya may pace din ng pagreplenish, tapos depende ulit sa tao, ang jologs pero ang astig atdaseymtaym! Kelangan ko talaga malaman kung paano na rereplenish kung sakasakali, kasi kanina pinipilit kong mainlab ulit ayaw talaga, parang alam kong dapat naiinlab na ako, pero di sumusunod ang puso sa dinidikta ng isipan. Wala na daw kayang ibigay e, yata, di ko pa naman talaga nadidinig magsalita ang puso ko, bingi ako sa mga hiling ng damdamin, nakanatutsa, nakakadiring linya!

Pero syempre, haypotetikal lang nga, malay mo eklat ko lang to tapos di naman pala totoo, wala lang. Mali yung hula ko, tapos maya-maya naiinlab na ulit ako. Baka napapagod lang ang puso pero di nauubusan, naks, kanina pa ako bumabanat ng korning linya, ang korni-korni ko na, Walang wenta pa tong entry na to, halo-halong kagaguhan, kakornihan, kadramahan, malalim na linya, makekesong eklavu, nakakabanas na banat at jumbo blender na writing style pa ang gamit. Korni-korni ko talaga, ang wirdo lang kasi kapag hindi ka inlab.

Para sa mga Kaibigan kong Graduating

06 November 2009

Mahusay, magaling, graduating na kayo, you made it this far, you deserve applause, give it yourselves. Mahirap ang pinagdaanan n'yo, nagawa n'yong lagpasan ang mga hirap na yun dahil talaga namang binuhusan nyo ng timba-timbang pagod, balde-baldeng puyat, sangkatutak na pagtitiis ang lahat. Magaling, mauuna na ako sa mga babati sa inyo sa Marso, congratulations.

Ang aga mo naman bumati Ernie, sasabihin n'yo, maaga ako bumati kasi alam ko namang matatapos nyo itong dadaan na semestre, at matatapos nyo ng may lupit na humahagupit. Makukuha nyo yung bwakanang inang passport nyo sa mata ng mga recruitment officer ng iba't ibang kumpanya, UP Diploma. Alam ko, kahit hindi nyo man makumpleto lahat ng subject nyo itong semestreng to, kahit na may maiwan ka pa para sa susunod na sem o sa summer, matatapos mo din yan at medyo mas maaga lang ng kaunti para sa iyo ang pabati ko. Pero ikaw naman, ano ba namang depirensya nun? Gumradweyt ka, medyo nagkaaberya lang, naubusan ka lang siguro ng gasolina sa daan, naflatan ng gulong, o baka nasira stereo mo pero darating ka rin dun. Makakarating ka rin dun.

Natutuwa ako para sa inyo dahil itong semestreng paghihirapan nyo, bawat minutong pinuyat mo sa sem na to, isipin mo, konti na lang. Bawat salitang tinatayp mo para sa mga paper mo, isipin mo, konti na lang. Bawat paglabas mo ng school para magfieldwork, pag hahalungkat sa library, paghahanap ng sasagot sa survey, pakikipag diskusyon sa prof, pagdadala ng mabibigat na text book, pagkokompyut ng problem na dapat nang idemanda sa sobrang hindi makatarungan, tandaan mo, konti na lang. Konting-konti na lang, kayang-kaya nyo na yan.

Hindi mo alam sinasabi mo Ernie, siguro nga, sinukuan ko yan e. Pero natutuwa ako para sa inyo. Patunay ko sa sarili ko na hindi peer pressure ang dahilan kaya ako nagloko, ang sisipag nyo e. Whoops, walang kokontra, masipag kayo. Wag mo sabihin sa aking nag-slack off ka last sem kasi may mga gabing kinumpleto mo tulog mo. Walangya ka, maawa ka sa sarili mo, kinailangan mo naman yun. Kung kinulang kayo sa sinakripisyo, hindi na yun kakulangan bilang mag-aaral, ang dami nyo na ngang kinakalimutang basic necessities, pumapasok na nga kayo ng eskwela ng hindi naliligo. Nalilimutan na nga ng katawan nyong magutom kasi masyado na itong abala mapagod. Appreciate nyo yung pinaghirapan nyo, andito na kayo, ayan na, dulo na to, game na.

Hahaha, siguro nga gusto ko lang mauna bumati ng congratulations, pero tingin ko naman hindi naman ito sobrang agang pabati. Tama lang naman, hindi ko naman kayo kinokongratulate dahil makakakuha na kayo ng degree at diploma e. Binabati ko kayo kasi napaghirapan nyo na yung degree na yan, naalayan nyo na ng dugo, pawis, luha, laway, sipon, tinga, tutule, nana, libag, kalyo, patay na kuko, eyebag, hairfall, wrinkles, at taghiyawat yang degree na yan. Okay na, solb na, konti na lang para marealize na din ng eskwelahan na okay ka na nga. Sige na, aral na kayo.

Di n'yo na kelangan ng goodluck, kaya nyo na naman yan e. Apir.

Gising tungo sa Bangungot

06 October 2009

Gising na yata ang mga mata ko sa dib-dib, isa isang tatanggalan ng muta, manu-manong bubuksan ang mga talukap. Oras na ng pagdungaw sa bangin, habang may hawak na payong at malakas ang hangin. Kailangan makita ng lahat ko ang bangin, at ang unti unting pagkahulog ng lupa patungo roon.

Sa paglalakad patungo sa bangin sinusugatan ako ng yelong lamig ng mga pinaslang, dulot ng pag aagawan sa iisang lupang pareho namang kanila, dulot ng pag aagawan sa mga bagay na kapwa hindi nila kailangan. Tumpok tumpok ng nabubulok na tao, namatay para sa rasong hindi katanggap tanggap sa mga mata sa aking dib-dib.

Sa paglalakad patungo sa bangin sinusunog ako ng apoy ng gutom at sakit, ng paghihirap at pagdurusa, ng mga alipin, mga biktima, mga sugatan, luhaan, at kapwa ko sinisilaban. Tumpok-tumpok ng nabubulok na buhay, tumataghoy sa mga bagay na pupwede namang hindi mangyari, sa mga sakit na sanay di na lang nadanas.

At Pagdating ko sa bangin idinungaw ko ang aking sugatang sunog na dib-dib, at pinamasid sa mga mata ko rito ang banging kumakain sa lupa, at habang ako'y nakadungaw, malakas ang hangin at may hawak na payong, paatras akong naglalakad na rin pagkat kinakain ang lupa kong kinatatayuan, isang banging parang bunganga ng impyerno, na lumalamon sa mundo. Habang sa paligid ko ang mga tao'y tinatapon ang isa't isa huwag lang mahulog. At tuwing lumalapit nang mapuno ang bangin ay lumalalim ito't lumalaki, tila nais gawing bangin ang buong mundo.

Tumpok-tumpok ng nabubulok na puso ang sumisingaw sa mundo, parang lason. Nagising ako sa bangungot ng tumpok tumpok na nabubulok na kung ano-ano, at pagising ko ang nakita ko'y ganung ganun pa rin. Bangungot ang mundo kong isinilangan.

The Drifting Away/Brotherhood/Half the Pun

26 August 2009

The drifting away of a friend is a sad thing.

I don't know what happened, it seemed we jsut led two live too different. Sad as the truth is it shall be this truth that is the truth for this point of view, this point of view is to the passt, and nothing can change the past, it is what it is. A very peculiar history we had, a past for the history books.

It is also true that we had become friends, he became a guy I shared cigarettes and stories with, we had our laughs and out truths and he was a friend in a category no friend of mine has ever fallen into, but he was real, he was there, like a brother I was supposed to have in the first place.

He had his girl, I had my confused little ramblings about every girl that exists, we shared those stories. Perhaps much more to my expense than his, but I didn't care, we are friends, friends don't care about that shit. I even appreciated that his girl considers me some sort of expert in her boyfriend's personality, truth is I know him just as much as a man can tell why another man is acting like he is, we both had a chromosome that women didn't, that's it. We knew only what we wanted the other to know, perhaps he knew more about than I did about him simply because of how much he is aware of what he reveals of himself, but I was fine with that, that was more than enough to be a friend.

(Who drifted? Was it I? Because a drifting did happen, perhaps I was drowned by the sudden surge of new people that I learned to share similar things we shared, perhaps overwhelmed by the fact that it wasn't just our little gang of fools, but a bigger gang of fools. Perhaps I have become part of the whirpool while he had clung to a piece of driftwood, maybe I just didn't notice, and he just didn't want to make me notice.)

Now I know, now I know what I don't know, who I don't know, I don't know him, my friend and brother, I never did. He had always led alife different from mine and now we had took paths too skewed from the others. maybe our friendship was just a crossroad, a joining path, only to split again. We may not always be friends, but since the day brotherhood has begun, he will always be the brother that I do not share blood with.

Even Spiderman worries about his Web.

15 August 2009

I'm at another computer shop, I hate computer shops, I hate it when other people are there when I'm trying to write. My mind gets easily distracted by other people typing away on their keyborads, people talking to the clerks at the counter, people chatting on-line, people coming and going, the annoying sounds of door chimes, keys, coins, plastic bags, seats being pulled and pushed and dropped and shit. It's a stupid, stupid place to be.

I hate work days, since mobile broadband in the Philippines suck like ant-eaters I can't use my laptop for internet, there's absolutely no point, it's friggin expensive and the coverage doesn't even cover half of UP Diliman, not even a quarter, or an eighth.

Look at me, I spend a great chunk of my self set allowance on internet connection, I live for the net, considering my schedule which gives me only one day of the week where I can go over to my buddies in UP so I don't have to go to the internet shops just to talk to them and have something to for the four hours (more or less) of free time I have

I want a Monday-Tuesday day-off schedule, I hate mondays in the office and I hate having to go to computer shops instead of actually talking to my buddies and annoying them in person, and the internet just isn't the same as when I stay on-line for 12 hours or so a day when its my day-off, I wanna use my own PC, not a stupid, generic, ad laden PC from netopia or Orange.

So there, got to log out now, my bill is running high.

O' Gabi

03 August 2009

O Gabi, ikaw na s'yang kumot ng dilim,

Yakap ng lamig,

at balot ng tahimik.

Itago mo ako

Sa iyong mga bisig,

Yakapin sa iyong dib-dib

Nang ako'y hindi na matakot.

O Gabi, ang puso ko'y humihiram,

Sa kapa mong itim

ng kaunting pagtago

Sa puso kong duwag

na may matapang na pag-ibig.

O Gabi, lunurin mo siya

Sa apoy ng aking payapa

at di mapaslang na pagkahimbing

sa kanyang ganda.

Na umaagaw ng liwanag sa iyong mga tala.

O Gabi, ikaw na sumumpa

Sa kaluluwa kong hilaw

Na mapain sa karagatan

ng mabangis na pag-ibig

Gabi-gabi'y nabibingwit,

at sa iyong pamamahinga,

muling pinawawalan,

para lamang madagit ulit,

sa iyong pagbabalik.

O Gabi, sakit man ito o lunas

pangako ko sa iyong iiwan,

Hindi hihimbing akong iyong isinilang

Hangga't ikaw ang Dumadatu sa Kalangitan.

Kay Malungkutin

26 July 2009

Naiinis ako,

Naiinis ako hindi dahil sa may mali kang ginawa, o dahil sa may napuna akong maling naganap, o dahil sa gusto ko lang mainis; ayoko sana mainis, kaso naiinis na nga ako, ano na magagawa ko, pero hindi ako sa'yo naiinis, naiinis ako sa ugali nangyayari sa'yo, sa ginagawa mo sa sarili mo.

Hindi ko alam kung ano ang dapat kong gawin, pakiramdam ko ay may dapat akong gawin, dapat kitang tulungan, payuhan, awayin na din siguro. Gusto kitang tulungan, pero paano naman kung ikaw lang ang may alam ng pinoproblema mo?

Hindi ko nga siguro maiintindihan ang hinahanap mo sa pagsasama, hindi ko nga siguro naiintindihan kung ano ang problema, hindi ako ikaw at hindi ko nakikita ang mundo sa mga mata mo, o inaalisa ito gamit ang isip mo. Ang meron ako ay ang mata ko lang at ang isip ko lang, pero meron din akong tainga, meron din akong bibig, pedeng makinig, at madalas nga'y kahit di mo naman hingin, o di mo man gustuhin, nagpapayo, nagtatanong, nagbibigay ng dahilan, depinsiyon, at paminsan-minsang solusyon.

Nakukulangan ka ba sa akin, sa kaniya, sa atin, sa pagsasama? Nawawala ba? Hinahanap mo ba? Hindi mo makita? Ayaw ba bumalik? Hindi mo alam kung paano pababalikin? Para kang nagyoyo na bumuhol yung pisi, maibabato mo, pero hindi gugulong pabalik.

Sabi ko magsabi ka, kasi pareho tayong hindi marunong. Hindi ka marunong mamroblema at di naman ako marunong kumilala ng problema ng iba, ilan beses ko ba dapat sabihing hindi ka nag-iisa?

Kaibigan mo ako, hindi dahil sa dineklara nating magkaibigan tayo, kundi dahil gusto kitang tao, at mabait ka sa akin. Kaibigan mo ako kasi gusto ko kaibigan kita, at hindi kita pwede maging kaibigan ng hindi mo rin ako nagiging kaibigan sa proseso, kaya umayos ka, tumayo ka d'yan, tigilan natin tong kadramahang ito at pagusapan natin ng matino.

Tae, akala ko ako na yung malungkutin. Tara na.